Grandparents Day & Momma Grizzly

You guys. I really suck at writing lately. I have opened my computer probably half a dozen times to post a blog entry and I just suck at it. I have writers block. My brain is broken. No mojo. I don't know what's happened to me.

Anyway, this simple blog entry proved to be just as difficult. Bleh bleh bleh.

Kirk had the opportunity to attend a special event at Lyla's school this week. It was technically Grandparents Day, but we had to get creative since we have yet to adopt any grandparents in Texas. I was feeling sorry for ourselves and complaining about all the nonexistent memories our kids are making with grandparents. I really tried to focus my energy on all the goodness that exists in our lives, but the truth is my heart was hurting. I miss Idaho a lot sometimes. Kirk took notice of my sadness and suggested he attend as Lyla's special guest instead. I gave this idea two thumbs up.

Kirk's job can be full of surprises, so we decided to keep it a secret from Lyla. We didn't want her to be disappointed just in case he had to cancel last minute. Plus, surprises are super fun! The day arrived and Kirk was able to make it. YAY! I was excited to show him around our school and took him to greet Max first. Max's class was not celebrating Grandparents Day, but I still wanted Kirk to stop in to say hello. Max was completely shocked when he saw Kirk. He ran right up to him and wrapped his arms tightly around his neck. *Que the water works* Then we let Max get back to his normal routine and continued to Lyla's classroom.

I entered Lyla's classroom first, as she was expecting me to join her for lunch as her special guest and nobody else. Kirk entered the room as she was washing her hands and sat down next to me at the table. Then Lyla turned around and saw him, which is when I expected the joyful embrace to happen. I had this big vision of Lyla being so excited and surprised but it was actually quite the opposite. She completely ignored him!!! I knew at this point she was overcome with nerves, but I still stated the obvious, "Hey, Dad is here! Aren't you excited?!" She honestly looked like she was about ready to cry. She held up one finger toward me and said "shhhh please just be quiet." We sat down for lunch and she was silent the entire time, so opposite from her typical demeanor at school. It was obvious she felt uncomfortable. It was weird having Dad in her element at school. It's totally okay and I completely understand. She wasn't being rude or sassy. I could tell she was just having a moment of being so overwhelmed and not wanting any attention on her whatsoever. I am SO familiar with that feeling from my childhood. I felt sad for her, but it was also a moment of genetic-fascination because she is so much like me. And my dad too! It's so crazy to me.

Anyway, lunch continued and they eventually made ice-cream sundaes. It was time to tour the book fair and I finally saw my girl shedding away all that fear. She was her happy, outgoing self again as we stopped by Max's classroom to bring him with us to the book fair. The school is so strategic planning Grandparents Day the same week as the book fair, turns out it works on dads too. It was a really fun day! I feel bad that I was initially so grumpy about not having any grandparents nearby, because having Kirk there made me really happy. And I think Lyla was happy too, despite her being unable to show it in the beginning. My kids are loved and we are so fortunate.

I feel like I've been wasting way too much energy feeling mad lately. It can be exhausting. The lack of grandparents on Grandparents Day is just one example among the spoonfuls of negativity I keep piling on my plate. It's so important to me to practice gratitude daily, but recently I've been doing quite the opposite. I have a bad attitude, as even Lyla pointed out. Bless her honesty. I keep finding myself choosing one bad moment that's happened and allowing it to impact me for the rest of the day. In doing this, I've raised the bar to an impossible level of perfection and it's so frustrating. I'm so hard on myself, my kids, my marriage, and every aspect of life that I easily forget about all the happiness that does exist in my life.

I think I need Lyla to get back on board with the Frozen obsession because having "Let it Go" on repeat every single day was actually really inspiring. Ha! It used to be so easy for me to let it go within five minutes. I kept low expectations and could almost instantly release angry feelings back into the universe, but now I keep a tight grip on that shit like it's actually worth something. And I'm pretty sure this shift in my mindset happened when Lyla retired Frozen!!!! Ha, not really. That part is a joke. Anyway, that's just a little self-reflection for the blog. I've learned the seasons of life are constantly changing and I will ride this wave through the storm. As for now, I'm really working on being more mindful of what I choose to focus my energy on. I can't always choose my feelings, but I can choose how they affect my life. The time with my family is so valuable because our kids are changing every single day. They are growing up. I don't want to look back and regret wasting time on anything insignificant.

Max: Menace Diaries

Max. Max. Max. This little dude has been giving me a run for my money lately. I think we are finally nearing the end of a potty training regression, so that's a plus. I'm happy to be back on a once a week rotation for washing our bedding, three times a week was getting to be a little ridiculous. I have to laugh because we have both adapted to each others behaviors -- while I've learned certain fidgety movements are a sure sign Max's bladder is about to explode, he has learned that's also about the time I'm going to call him out. It seems right as we make eye contact, he says "no pee Mom, me just jumping." And then he continues to hop around awkwardly, like that is a normal thing to do. 

That's easy stuff compared to the fierce attitude he has unleashed lately. There are several times throughout the day when he simply cannot handle his emotions and explodes with such anger. This happens when he wants to do something all by himself, but is unable. This happens if I refuse to let him eat candy for breakfast. This happens if someone has something he wants. This happens if his cereal gets soggy. This happens if I forget to hold his hand down the stairs. This happens if I arrange the pillows wrong on his bed. This happens if I choose the wrong underwear, for him or myself. This happens if I put too many ice cubes in his drink. This happens if I walk too fast. This happens if I walk too slow. This happens when he deliberately disobeys. I could go on...but I think you get the idea. Clearly this has been happening a lot. The poor dude is like a light switch.

If it gets real ugly and I've exhausted all other options, I just sit next to him and start repeating the words "peace and calmness" out loud like a hopeless idiot --- it either works and he actually calms down or it just makes him more infuriated. I like to ask him if he feels misunderstood because as he replies with "yes" through the somewhat forced sobbing, it creates a slightly adorable moment within the chaos. We tend to hug it out a lot. 

I've found myself watching him in his sleep more frequently to enjoy him in a peaceful state. Definitely not to remind myself that giving him away is not an option. Lyla has also learned the art of compromise when it comes to her little brother. I've noticed within their own interactions she will sometimes give in just to avoid a fight, especially if she can sense his temperature rising. I think she can agree that remaining consistent [all.day.long] can be so exhausting. We pick our battles these days.

This will pass, just as it always does. I think I'm just a little taken back this round because 1. Max is typically easy going and maybe I foolishly thought he could never possibly be a victim of twoberty/threenager syndrome and 2. Lyla had already defeated her super dramatic stint by this age. But again, I must remind myself, their development timeline will vary because they are two different people. I don't know why I even bother comparing parenting round one to round two, it's rarely helpful. Max is two years old, experiencing and learning just as he's meant to... but if he could go ahead and wrap up this unpleasant phase, that would be swell. 

In reality, there could be worse things to groan about. These complaints are minimal. I am immensely grateful for two healthy children who keep me busy and keep my heart full. I'm a very blessed Momma. Life is good.

Mindful Motherhood

I was in bed the other night trying to quiet my thoughts and find dreamland when I heard Lyla walk downstairs and enter the kitchen. I'm suddenly wondering how I knew it was Lyla at the time --- psychic mother abilities, I guess. Anyway, I listened as she dispensed some water out of the fridge and went back upstairs. If you know Lyla, then you can understand why I was in disbelief thinking about what just happened. I can count on one hand the number of times she has returned to her bedroom without assistance after waking up in the middle of the night. I felt proud of her, as I selfishly stared at the empty nest of pillows and blankets I arrange for her each night on the side of my bed. Only a few minutes had gone by and I found myself upstairs crawling into her bed snuggling up next to her. I giggled to myself for being completely ridiculous as I drifted off to sleep.

That's how this parenting stuff goes a lot of the time, for me at least. I am constantly conflicted by mixed emotions and being pulled in opposite directions of wanting to slow down vs. hurry up. I want them to sleep in their own beds, but feel sad when it actually happens. It's so odd. I tend to do a lot of reflecting anytime my kids make a transition into more independent beings, which seems to be a lot lately. It makes me happy and sad --- happysad. That word should probably be an actual synonym of "bittersweet."

We have reached a chapter in this childhood/parenthood dynamic that I have looked forward to for a very long time, including when becoming a parent was just a dream of the future. I've truly enjoyed most aspects of my parenting journey, some more than others. I loved loved loved my newborn babies, but those days were much more challenging for me emotionally compared to now. The place we are right now is a lot of fun for me. I have these two little people who can communicate their needs and wants, they are old enough to participate in a broad range of activities, and most days they let their imaginations lead the way. I'm so grateful for the time I'm able to spend with my kids. I'm entertained on a daily basis. And somehow, I feel this blissful stage slipping through my fingertips faster than it ever has before. Why do I dwell on the inevitable changes of the future? I have no idea.

I am constantly coming to the realization there are some things I will never experience again, in regards to my own children that is. I will never change their diaper again. I will never worry about one of them crawling around the playground eating bark, uhh or cat poop. I will never smell like boob milk again. I'm even nearing the end of helping to get them dressed each day! And eventually all these other little tidbits of parenting are going to pass by me as well --- things like buckling car seats, turning on light switches, and sharing the bed with two tiny bed hogs. And although I'm well aware this is the natural process of how this whole thing works, it still just seems shocking how fast it all happens. I'm doing my best to make myself aware of all these little things that add up to being a parent. In making myself aware and fully present, I hope to look back upon these years with no regrets. It doesn't have to be perfect either. 

The time I have right now with my children is something I value beyond anything else, but that doesn't mean I don't require being reminded of such insight on a regular basis. I occasionally end the day with a feisty attitude and think "Alright, you guys are four and two. That's probably good enough. Time to move out!" Joking ... but I do have to remind myself every single day to savor these small moments, the daily and routine moments. It can be challenging --- especially during the frequent battles of sibling rivalry where hitting is the preferred method of communication, the bad attitudes paired with back talking, and all the other limitless amounts of frustration that come along with raising children. Screaming back at them has proven to be unproductive.

Although putting together each piece of the puzzle can sometimes feel overwhelming, I have to remember that all those things and all those lessons are contributing to one big picture. And the big picture is preparing our children for a world from which their parents cannot shield them from. It's hoping we've done enough to teach them right from wrong, let them experience enough but not too much, and allowed them to make choices and learn from their own mistakes. And most importantly, it's loving them enough to know no matter what happens or how old they become, there is always a space in Momma's bed for them.

There really are so many aspects of childhood that can easily get rushed through simply because we are so eager for our kids to advance to the next checkpoint in life.  Obviously my thoughts on motherhood have only progressed for four years, so I'm interested to read back my logic in another 10+ years.  But one mindset I'm confident will never change is the reminder to myself to slow down. breathe. & enjoy. 

And now I miss my mom after writing this. siiigh. 

Real Talk: Feeling Vulnerable

I am grateful tomorrow is Monday. I am grateful that last week is behind me --- and after this blog post, that's exactly where I'll leave it. We survived last week and nothing more.

Obviously I'm not referring to the beginning of the week, having my mom in town until Wednesday was fantastic! Then the last half of the week spiraled downward quickly and left me feeling raw and defeated against my children. The fighting, back-talking, entitled attitudes, and constant whining day after day fueled a storm inside me. They are incredibly persistent too and, frankly, were being total assholes. I don't even understand how it got that bad. Was it that bad? Was it just me and my inability to handle it? It was three days of chaos from the kids, including unproductive demands from me. It gets to a point where the constant "NO" from me becomes nothing more than a noise to them. They neglected to listen --- I don't blame them, really. I felt bad because I was nothing more than a robot barking orders, but I didn't have energy for anything else. 

I felt like a failure, wondering where my sweet children went. I started feeling even more guilty upon the fear that their negative behavior was a result of not enough positive attention they should be receiving. I worry so often that I get too consumed with selfish matters that I forget to love them enough --- I know I always do, it's just in these moments when I worry I'm not doing enough. Those insecurities sure can be annoying to deal with. I finally tapped out on Saturday and abandoned Kirk with the wild people. It was for the best, considering he seemed to have a better grip on life than me at the moment. If the acts of a two year old can make me want to cry, like for reals, then I know it's time to walk away. The normal me wouldn't let that happen, but my hot mess status was at a ten. My only options were to runaway to Mexico or surrender to my bed. Although Mexico sounded tempting, I chose the latter...

I do need to give Lyla and Max credit --- they really are awesome kids, they are polite and mostly well-behaved, and they usually get along great. I enjoy being their mom and usually they make it easy on me. We just had a few rough days. It happens. I think bad days probably have the potential to occur more often than I realize, I'm just faced with the "I can't handle it" level of mentality when I'm struggling to balance all the other crazy aspects of life. In hindsight, the daily conflicts were the same as always --- it was simply my own reaction that created such disastrous moments. My brain overthinks itself into an explosion every once in awhile, not often, but still unwelcomed when it does occur. I temporarily lost my ability to laugh and see the happy moments in the midst of the bad. This is a must have parenting life skill and it was nowhere to be found last week.

I'm questioning if we experienced a post-Grandma Anna hangover, perhaps we couldn't handle reality after five straight days of being spoiled by her. Or maybe our household dynamic is in disarray because the absence of Taylor & Jordan gone to Idaho. Or maybe I'm just insane. Oh, I know! I'll blame the time change. Hehe! The possibilities are endless. Regardless, I need our happy energy to return ASAP. I'm hopeful it's on its way.

There is no denying motherhood is filled with so many fulfilling moments of love & joy, along with so many other emotions I never expected --- including feeling powerless and being inadequate at times. My patience was tested last week and if I've learned anything, I know it will happen many times again. At the very least, my endurance is growing.

I am grateful for a new week to do better. I am grateful for knowing that a few rough days does not equate to any long-term damage; my children tend to be continuously resilient and forgiving. I am grateful to Kirk for putting us back together after unknowingly walking into a hailstorm of a weekend. I love them all so much.

My focus for this week is being calm and patient with my kids. I'm going to slow down and listen intently. I'm going to remember the importance of balance and to breathe deeply. We are all in this together. 

What I Wore Wednesday: Part 5

What I Wore Wednesday is a social movement in an effort to prevent us humans from being slobs. My sister-in-law requested my participation in this trend, along with her other sisters scattered across the nation. Yoga pants will always be an essential item to my wardrobe, but this weekly habit is a small way of keeping us busy ladies accountable for our fashion choices.

I think Lyla looked exceptionally cute today. She requested Anna braids. Anna is a character from Frozen --- I'm sure you already know that, unless you're living in a bubble. I'm not sure where this sudden desire came from to have  her hair done, but I'm not complaining. I'm grateful for Max's preference towards hats lately. He managed to find and open Kirk's hair gel earlier in the day. His hair was looking totally wild, to say the least. See picture below. 

I purchased my sweater prior to my pregnancy with Max, then I got all plump and couldn't wear it anymore. It got lost in my closet and I only recently rediscovered its awesomeness. I love it when old clothes turn into new clothes. Also, I believe I made the statement in an earlier post that I am not a seflie person. I guess I can't really make that claim anymore since I now take photos of myself on a weekly basis. It definitely still feels awkward though. I'm always thinking to myself, "what the hell am I supposed to do with my hand?" 

Lyla Estelle: 

White Top, Gold Buttons: Old Navy
Floral Leggings: Old Navy
Ugg Boots: Gift from Aunt Kari

Maxwell Monte:

Nike Swagger Tee: Second Hand
 Lebron Nike Shoe: Nike Outlet

Texans Hat: Lids

Jeans: Carter's

Kaili Magdelina: 

Owl Sweater: Macy's
Dark Wash Jeggings: Bohme 

Brown Boots: Macy's 

Selfie Rant: 

Now that I'm a self-proclaimed selfie person, I think I need to get all of this off my chest. 

Selfies. I think it's the "look at me" mentality that tends to make me gag. This generation of individuals are incredibly tech savvy, yet equally as narcissistic. I don't want to be portrayed as a self-absorbed individual. That's not a path that I'm seeking in life. I guess I don't really understand why my mind is overly concerned with the world of selfies. The act of taking a selfie is fine, genius actually. There is no doubt that some people take really amazing photos of themselves. I just think some people get carried away with their selfie habit and need to cool their shit. 

I suppose people could make the same call about the amount of photos I take of my children. It's a completely mindless habit. There are so many moments of their childhood that I want to freeze, I guess taking a picture is the next best thing. I totally acknowledge that experiencing the moment is so much more valuable than looking at a picture later on. I constantly have to remind myself to put down my phone. I say to myself, "Hey self, it is okay if you don't get a picture of them in the bathtub today. I guarantee there is already at least 100 in existence." I know I'm not the only parent who tries to capture every adorable moment. I know I'm not the only parent who thinks their kid is the best thing ever. I'm literally obsessed with them. It's so silly. Do people with ugly children have this problem? <-- Joking. Calm down.

It's just interesting & terrifying & strange to me that my children will be able to find photos of themselves on the internet at basically every single stage of their life. I often wonder if the pictures posted of my kids will cause complications for them in the future? Imagine how much more accessible the world will be in another ten years! Nothing is protected on the internet. It's the INTERNET. This is why I avoid posting anything completely embarrassing online. For example, there is an awesome photo of Max sitting on the toilet. I didn't share it anywhere on the internet because I thought about what life might be like for him when he is in junior high. What if a group of 14 year old girls find this photo and it totally humiliates him. Maybe he will laugh it off, but maybe it will really hurt. This is a total hypothetical situation. It's just the crap my mind comes up with. Junior high girls are the worst. I know because I was one. Ha! I can't imagine how much harder it is now with the influence of social media.

Conclusion: I don't care about your selfies. You probably don't care about my kids eating plastic lunch. Maybe everyone should use a better filter when posting to social media and consider if it's really something everyone needs to see. At the same time, I'm not here to please everyone. The point of social media [for me] is to stay in contact with family. It's a great way to stay connected. My blog is really special to me because it is a journal of so many incredible memories. I really hope Lyla & Max are appreciative of it one day. It's the modern day scrapbook. Ugh! There goes my brain working in two directions again. I think moderation is probably the key to this headache I'm having.

If you can offer any insight or perspective to this generation of picture obsessed people, please share. It's something that boggles my mind. all. of. the. time. How did we get here? Is it necessary? Is it damaging? 

 OK BYE!

Happy Weekend

It is cold here! There is something wrong with me. My brain thinks 100 degrees is going to melt me and 50 degrees is freezing. I think the problem here is I am spoiled. I have Idaho blood, and yet I am actually complaining about the dropping temperatures this week. I'm pretty sure the 16 year old version of me wore booty shorts and tank tops when it hit 50 degrees in Idaho. 

I miss Idaho. I miss watching the snow fall. Nothing beats a white Christmas. But I do not miss the cold. 

The cold weather matches our hellish week perfectly. Lyla & Max have been passing around the toddler tantrum hot potato all week. Really. I think they broke each others records in the dramatic performances department. They have been really pleasant prior to this week, so I am finding it difficult to determine any reasoning for their streak of frightening behavior. I think we were just due for some hard days. Those hard days test my patience and make me feel weak. I think the most challenging lesson for Lyla and Max right now is having to share my attention. It's difficult on all of us. Today I cleared everything productive from our calendar. We stayed home all day to focus on happy attitudes, myself included. Most tantrums are a result of a miscommunication and if I try really hard, I can usually stop them in their tracks.

I do see light at the end of the tunnel and that light is called FRIDAY. I'm looking forward to two full days to recharge our batteries and spend some quality time with Kirk. Here's to hoping we start Monday with smiles!

I considered posting photos of their screaming faces. But I would prefer to let those memories fade far far into the archive section of my brain. We had a few happy moments this week too. I'm going to choose to remember those instead. I made this play dough and infused it with lavender in hopes of calming their woeful spirits. Did it work? Here's a hint...NOPE. 

Perspective

I met a mom at the park this week. This happens all the time, so don't go thinking that was the highlight of my day or anything. Parks for moms are like bars for 21 year olds. You prowl around the playground looking for an unsuspecting mom, awaiting the perfect opportunity to start a conversation without looking too desperate. Then if you're lucky you get a phone number. Yep. That pretty much sums up park life and bar life. Haha! My type is usually the yoga pants and ponytail chick. I mean really, who wears heels to the park? Go home Barbie. 

Anyway, this park dialogue usually begins with the dazzling mom pick up line of "aww he/she is so cute. how old is he/she?" Every once in awhile I meet a mom and we discover our kids are both 17 months apart. For a moment time stands still as I know we are both thinking, "oh my gosh. did we just become best friends?" That usually fizzles quickly because there is way more to a friendship than sharing the date you birthed your child. And I generally find people to be crazy...in a bad way. The "quality over quantity" mentality is the way to roll. 

I'm an observant gal though. And based off my observations, I think most moms at the park crave some sort of companionship or friendship, pretty much any sliver of adult interaction! The life of a stay at home mom is a lonely world. But usually just as a connection is made, someone notices their child eating dirt and the new friend is lost in the midst of slides and swings and sandboxes. But I still find ways to appreciate that short five minute friendship, even if it means only sharing a horrifying potty training story or nap time struggle.

Okay. So back to my original train of thought. I met a mom today and after a few minutes of small talk we identified that our kids are the same ages AND both 17 months apart. Yes. That BFF light started flashing! Lol. We compared notes for a few minutes and laughed as we watched our kiddos play. Then she said something that lingered in my mind. She said, "most days I feel like I'm just surviving." I reflected on that remark for awhile and I disagree. I do feel her pain. There are some days I am certain I am living in an indefinite hell on earth. Toddlers are very emotional little creatures! The daily battles and conflicts are exhausting. 

But...I don't feel like I'm just surviving. I am thriving. I am living the life I always wanted. In fact, it's better than I imagined. Nothing good in life comes easy and I don't think that's something you learn until you become an adult, which is why being an adult seems so glamorous when you're a kid. I have bad days just like everyone else. Days when my attitude is plain poopy despite all my efforts to make it otherwise. And on those days I especially appreciate Kirk. He has a way of putting things in perspective without minimizing my feelings. After a long day, I will typically cry and complain to him about all my daily dilemmas. Then he responds by asking, "Kaili, are our kids hungry?" No. "Are they sick?" No. "Are they loved?" Yes. "Do they have a roof over their head?" Well, yes. 

I wish I could go back to the conversation with that mom today when she told me she was just surviving. I would like to remind her that although it is most definitely chaotic, it's all worth it. Not because I don't think she already knows it. Of course she knows how rewarding motherhood is. Of course she knows it's worth it. But sometimes our perspective gets cloudy. I think we all need a reminder at times from someone who can shine a little light on our cloud and identify with our hardship. I think in that moment, I was meant to be her source of comfort. 

Life is challenging. Yes. But it's always a humbling feeling when I'm reminded that I am not experiencing any real world issues. I am a fortunate being. 

Baseball Frenzy & Mom Time Outs

Saturday evening took us to downtown Houston for an Astros baseball game. We took the kiddos with very low expectations. I knew it could get ugly as we neared their bed times and I would feel satisfied if we lasted an hour, at best. To my surprise, they were so good and we didn't leave until the top of the ninth inning. I was feeling a little antsy myself by that point anyway. 

Lyla and Max don't shy away from big, loud events. They seemed so enchanted by all the people, the cheering, the music. The crowd sang "take me out to the ball game" and Lyla belted it out loudly, although she didn't even know the words. She had this undeniable sparkle in her eyes as she said, "let's sing that again!" They were busy bodies during the game, of course. Luckily, we had six seats for them to shuffle around, plus a little ice cream break! I think everybody had a really fun time. 

The night at the baseball field was good for me. I needed some family time beyond the daily cycle. This past week was a real doozy. The constant rain causing a bit of cabin fever, Lyla sleeping like a wild woman, and Max's top molars coming in have quite simply drained me to the point of exhaustion. Oh yes, and the preferred method of communication this week was just lovely. ----> Crying. Hitting. Biting. 

Ugh. I just wanted to scream "I CAN'T HANDLE THIS!!!" [runs away & hides]

But I can't do that. 

Because I am the adult. 

And being an adult is really sucky sometimes. 

I really do my best to embrace the chaos and find joy in the small moments, it's sorta my mantra. But there was very little of that going on this week. My ability to remain calm was vanishing quickly. I was feeling so defeated and pitiful, wishing I could call my mom and say "PLEASE come take these barbaric children for the afternoon!" I really miss that lady. She always rescues me when I need it most and I'm okay admitting that. That is exactly what moms are for, right!? 

Then I remembered the YMCA offers a "save our sanity" program twice a month for other like-minded moms nearing psychosis. I signed them up as quickly as possible. My three hours of freedom consisted of a pedicure, Starbucks frappuccino, and wandering around aimlessly in Barnes & Noble. I just needed to breathe. Without occasional breaks, I find the mom I want to be and the mom I actually am heading in opposite directions. And that isn't what I want. I want motherhood to be an amazing, fulfilling experience. AND USUALLY IT IS. As I said, this past week was just a killer. I am obviously venting here. 

Anyway, during my little mom time out it gave my some time to think, reflect, and observe. I noticed a woman in the parenting section at Barnes & Noble looking deeply into a book titled "Parenting Your Strong-Willed Toddler." It made me smile. I watched another woman chase her toddler around the children's section as he pulled books from shelves. It made me smile again. Then as I pulled in to the YMCA parking lot I sat in my car for a few minutes, questioning why I was picking them up an hour earlier than necessary. [The truth is I was bored without them! LOL] Anyway, I looked over to the car parked next to me and noticed another book laying in the front seat. It was titled "Sleeping Through the Night." All these signs were dropping like bombs! I walked inside the YMCA to pick up my babies, feeling like myself again. I watched them from the big glass window before making my appearance known. Lyla eventually saw me and gave me a big hug. She told me she missed me. It felt good to be missed. I missed them too.

All of these moments were quiet reminders to me that we are all connected. Knowing that we are all in this together brings me some peace. We all have struggles. We all have hard days. We all have fear and guilt brewing inside. I think it's okay to say, "somebody help me!" I think it's okay to admit that being a mom is hard. It wasn't meant to be easy.  Sure, there was a time I thought being a mom sounded like an easy, carefree gig. Being a mom is something I dreamed of becoming for as long as I can remember. And yes, some days are easy, run smoothly, and are full of smiles. Some days are not. And it is okay. We get to try all over again tomorrow.

I hope nobody perceives this blog post as me being a negative Nancy. Because 1. my name isn't Nancy, and 2.  I would be lying if I said my life was rainbows and unicorns. I want my blog to include the good days and the bad days. I want it to be real. I want it to be honest. Someday I will look back at all these entries and laugh, probably cry, and just maybe it will be a source of support when Lyla ventures into the world of motherhood for herself. 

New Favorites & Other Sentiments

It's a lot of work keeping up with these two hooligans. I can't wait to put them to bed at night and can't wait for them to wake up again in the morning. It definitely feels weird to say I have a two year old and a one year old. I love watching them play. learn. explore. They are changing so much on a weekly, even daily basis.  

Max prefers walking over crawling now. He continues to run into furniture and fall on his head multiple times a day. It seems as soon as one bruise heals another one appears. The sad part is most of his injuries happen when I'm within arms reach. He is building up a tough and rugged exterior. His vocabulary isn't as developed as Lyla's was at this age. However, I am learning his ways of communication. I can determine the meaning of one grunt over another. He lifts his shirt up when he wants his diaper changed. He "helps" in the kitchen with groceries and loading the dishwasher. He laughs when I say the word boob. We made some progress on the boob weaning, but regressed with his recent teething phase. He is so miserable and sometimes nursing is the only way of comforting him. I really don't mind it though. My main priority right now is making real food his main source of nutrition and getting him to tolerate whole milk. The nursing thing will eventually become obsolete. 

Lyla is two and a half. She continues to amaze me on a daily basis. She speaks sentences and asks questions. I am just waiting for the "why" phase. I try to talk to her a lot about everything. Where we are going. What we are doing. Who people are. The way stuff works. It's amazing how much she understands and when I'm patient with her and take my time, she is a really good listener. She is polite.  She can dress herself and put on her own shoes. She likes to brush my hair, which I love. And her newest phrase is telling me "privacy please" as she enters the bathroom and shuts the door. It's cute, but not that cute since she still needs a little assistance going potty. She loves to perform and knows she is adorable. I'm afraid there is no hope for her ego. 

Lyla is finally sleeping through the night without waking up crying or terrified. It only took two and a half short [<-LOL] years. Kirk is especially happy about it since he was so gracious to always take the Lyla night shift, while I have been the night slave for the little one. After experiencing so many wild nights with Lyla, I was sure my second born would sleep like an angel. I was wrong.  Max continues to be an unsteady sleeper. I actually enjoy snuggling him when he wakes up, but apparently it's a bad habit and he should be soothing himself. I often question if my choice methods have destroyed their sleep habits. On the other hand, everyone is wired differently. Sleep comes easy for some and difficult for others. I would like to thank the internet for easing my pain and comforting me when I felt alone. Believe it or not, there are other parents out there with lousy sleepers. At least I have good nappers. And they always fall asleep easy initially. 

I am a constant a referee. Lyla and Max generally enjoy each others company, but the sibling battles are inevitable.  I try to let them resolve most conflicts on their own. I usually only intervene if there is pushing, hitting, hair pulling, or intentional toy stealing.  My biggest struggle for the moment is explaining to Lyla that because she is the older sister, she should know better. I know it doesn't make sense to her that when she hits she gets scolded and sent to her room, but Max only gets told "no no" and distracted with another activity. Or when she pulls every book off my shelf she has to pick them up, but Max doesn't. It's hard because they are so close in age. Occasionally I put Max in a pretend timeout just to please Lyla.  It seems completely worthless, but at least it seems fair to Lyla. I know this challenging phase will pass soon and they will eventually be on the same discipline platform. Meanwhile I will juggle it the best I can. However, I'm a little worried for when that time comes because Max seems to be a lot more destructive than Lyla ever was. Oh boy. Buckle your seatbelts.

 

A Fresh Week

We had an extra fun weekend and so far, I'm feeling good about the week.
I'm slowly regaining my control and at the very least, I'm not 
wanting to crawl under my covers and scream.

There is still this new unfamiliar toddler person living inside Lyla.

I'm getting to know that person and working on figuring out works best to tame that fiery rage.

But for the most part her sassy level is back to a cute and tolerable level

 rather than the scary and irrational one like last week.

She has made some big strides with potty training this week.
I will leave out graphic details just in case her future boyfriend finds this blog in 16 years.
We are moving at a gradual pace, but moving along nonetheless.

The newest problem around here has been bedtime.

Lyla has never given us any grief at bedtime. She has always made it so easy & simple.

Staying asleep for her is a whole different story---but the initial 

bedtime phase has always been a breeze.

Until now, that is. 

We are many moons late on this one, but the time has come to say goodbye to the bottle.

As a result, she has replaced that source of comfort by having mommy or daddy 

lay next to her in bed until she is sound asleep. Leaving the room is not an option.

A handful of books and forty minutes later, we attempt to sneak out of the room as
she shoots up in a sleepy blur  and shouts "no mommy, lay down." 

It usually takes 2-3 attempts before a successful exit is achieved. 

The only problem I have with this new time consuming 
bedtime routine is that it cuts into my hang time with Kirk. 

The other problem is she insists on this nonsense at nap time now too.

This would be a completely enjoyable part of my day if she were an only child. 

But she isn't. Max is here too and if I didn't have other people in the house

to help me out right now I literally have no idea what I would do. 

On the flip side, Max has relaxed compared to last week as well.
I think I may have been right about our return from Idaho sending everyone on the fritz.
It would only make sense that it would take longer for the little's to readjust.

I nearly have Max's nap schedule back on track.

They remain shorter than I would prefer, but we are taking it one step at a time.

Secretly, I often reminisce about the three hour long siestas of the past
 and I am keeping my fingers crossed they find their way back to us.

Mobile-Max is on the way! He is so so so close to crawling.

His hand coordination isn't quite there yet and face plants multiple times a day.

One "step" closer to keeping up with his sister Lyla. 

Well. A little ranting. A little update. I think that's all for now.
These changes are challenging but there is no place else I'd rather be. 

At the end of the day, I hope my babies know I love them

 more than anything in existence. 

Update

After 7 days:

I completely stopped consuming caffeine at all times of the day 

and saw a dramatic change in Max. Seriously. 

It's hard to believe it was making him that grouchy, but it make sense. It's science. Hello!

Maybe it was just a fussy phase, but the instant I cut off caffeine I noticed I big difference.

I guess my little baby doesn't enjoy being jacked up on caffeine all day. 

Understandable. I'm sorry sweet Max. 

My food & drink intake is back on my radar for your sake.

I'm so happy he is back to his pleasant little self. 

After 3 days:

Lyla is not catching onto the potty training thing as quickly as I hoped.

Yes, I expected accidents. But I also expected more progress.

She only successfully used the toilet twice. Exciting, but not good enough!!

The rest of her waste ended up in various locations around the house.

I know I'm impatient for giving up after only three days.

But she is still a little young and intimidated by the porcelain god.

We will continue to encourage her to use the potty, but maybe

 it will be best to wait to try again after all the holiday madness.

I am really looking forward to the day when I can spend that

 extra diaper money on something more spectacular though...

Thanksgiving is right around the corner and I'm happy to 

announce that I'm preparing my very first turkey.

With my aunt mentoring me all the way from Idaho, 

I think I can pull off something glorious! 

I never knew menu planning and table-scaping could 

be so time consuming and anxiety inducing!

Luckily I have Olivia here to hand me a brown paper bag

to breathe into when I start feeling overwhelmed. ;)

Turkey pictures coming soon and then my daddy is coming for a visit! Hooray!