Mother's Day

Today is Mother's Day! Mine has been wonderful!! Aaron and the kids made me my favorite breakfast, breakfast burritos. I don't make them often because they require a lot of work and dirty dishes. The Bishopric handed out chocolate at church. Weeks before when Aaron asked what they should give to the mothers at church, I told him we did not want a music CD that we would never listen to, a book we would never read, a flower or plant that would die. We wanted chocolate. I apologize if any women feel differently. I probably should not have spoken for the entire congregation but I did, and I enjoyed the chocolate. Calories do not count on Mother's Day any way. Which also explains the chocolate covered strawberries in the fridge.

After church I took a nap in the sunshine curled up on a deck chair fully dressed in the backyard. (Those tan lines are going to look great!) I spent the evening forcing my family to play Ticket to Ride, my favorite board game.  I won 2 out 3 games. Mike and Melanie walked over to our house with all their babies. It was the perfect ending to a wonderful day.

Aaron's grandmother hated Mother's Day. She did not enjoy going to church hearing about all the wonderful things mothers did as she felt like she wasn't living up to par. My heart goes out to all the women whose hearts hurt today. Those whose children are wayward. Those who are alone. Childless. Widowed. Depressed. Inadequate. Unmarried. Stressed. Overworked. Under appreciated. I just want to say you are enough. You are perfect just being you. The world needs you. Each and every one of you. Just as you are. There is beauty all around and it is found in every face and heart and person on the earth.

I have been thinking a lot about motherhood lately.  I have been thinking about the women I know who have lost their mother. They can't call their mom on the phone and tell them how much they love them and appreciate them. I will think of them as I call my mom. I will tell her all the things they are unable to tell their own mothers today.

I will tell my mom that I love her for just being her. I really do love my mom. I love all of my mom. I love her example of someone who always tried to be better.  She never claimed to be the perfect mother.  She had a terrible childhood and fought her way through it. She stopped the chains of abuse for which I can never repay her. I will tell her that I will always be grateful for that.

I will tell her that she is enough. I have been surrounded by women who volunteer in every school, do every craft, sews their kids clothes, and build furniture in the garage. Their house is always clean and their kids are always dressed in coordinating outfits. They help their husband run his business. They earn money on the side to help provide for their family and yet they don't skip a beat in nurturing their children.  They have it all and they do it all. I think that is great! It just doesn't work for me. I can only do what I can only do. I see so many women struggle. Why? Why can you have a room full of talented, educated, good hearted women that all feel alone? Why do we strive for this ideal that seems so far out of reach? I am grateful that I have learned that what I have to give is simply enough.

I will tell my mom that I am grateful that she taught me to improve. I know that we continually progess as long as we are willing to accept the Savior and choose to progress. Recently I felt a connection to my maternal grandmother who died 20 years ago. I felt the peace that she has finally come to know. I felt the love that she has for me. She was not a perfect mother. She had to learn and grow and overcome. Her progression did not end in this life. Nor will mine. My mom always wanted me to be a better  mother than she was. I know that I am not a perfect mother. I know I am giving my kids baggage they will carry for the rest of their life. I am ok with that. I am grateful for the knowledge that the Savior loves each of us. He will help us overcome all that lays before us and also what lays behind us. I am grateful that He still loves me even when I still have so much room for improvement. He does not expect me to be perfect. He loves me for just being me and I as grateful for that.

Race for the Cure 2011

I have mentioned this before but one of my favorite races of the whole year is the Race for the Cure.

This year I did it with my mom and sister. It was so much fun!

I love being part of thousands and thousands of women all working for a good cause.

We were planning on walking the one mile course. My mom has a bad ankle and arthritis that makes walking long distances difficult for her. As we were on the course she changed her mind and we ended up walking the entire route (3 miles). This is a photo of her just before we crossed under the finish line. I LOVE the fact that my mom proved she can do hard things.

There is something that is inspiring about this race. It is the only race I do with tears in my eyes. There is always the little old man whose shirt read, "In memory of my loving wife", the toddler whose shirt was in memory of her mom, or the woman who had no hair, the shiniest bald head, and the biggest smile.

That is why I do this race.

It's not all tears though. I laugh too. This year's t-shirt of the year goes to this team......

This race is always done on mother's day weekend. I love sleeping over at my sister's house and spending time with the women in my life who mean the most to me,

I love the feeling of girl power that comes from being with so many strong women,

and I love knowing that together we can change the world.

A Few of My Least Favorite Things

For the most part, I love motherhood. There are a few things, however, that I really dislike. I don't like potty training, teaching a child to ride without training wheels, and deciding when to go to the doctor. (Being a nurse doesn't help.) A few weeks ago, Savanah had a low grade fever and cough for a few days. I finally decided to take her to the doctor knowing he would just pat me on the head, take the co-pay, and tell me she was fine. Well, in reality, she was diagnosed with pneumonia. She had major sinus drainage, fluids in her lungs, and possibly strep. We even had to go to the radiology department in the hospital for a chest x-ray. He put her on high powered antibiotics, steroids, two other medications, nebulizer treatments every 4 hours, and gave a stern warning that any chest pain must be seen by a doctor immediately.

Did I mention this all happened over spring break? This is how Savanah spent her first spring break. She laid on the couch for the most part.

By that Sunday, she seemed to be feeling better and she had been an antibiotics for two days so we knew she wasn't contagious. We took her to church only to have her start coughing in the middle of the meeting. You know when you cough so hard that you just about gag? That was her. I felt everybody was giving me the "why-did-you-bring-a-sick-child-to-church" look. Add this to my list of dislikes: when a child doesn't show any symptoms of illness until you are out in public.

She is doing better now. It took her a few weeks to really regain her strength and energy. She was really emotional and would become angry at the smallest things. Aaron blamed that on the steroids. He figured it was "roid rage".

She is happy to report that she lost her front tooth. Now she whistles every time she ways the "S" sound. She loves these jeans with holes in the knees. She told me they make her look older, like seven.

I'm not going to argue with that.

30 Minute Meals with Four-n-More

I like Rachel Ray. Who doesn't? She's the cute and spunky host of 30 Minute Meals. I seldom watch her shows but every once in a while, I can sneak one in. As I was fixing dinner the other night, I thought of Rachel. She can fix a meal start to finish in 30 minutes. Complete with cooking tips, stories, and the kitchen is always clean when she is finished.Then there is me. Whenever I try to cook a meal in 30 minutes, it just doesn't happen. You see, while Rachel is cooking she doesn't have a 4 year old who demands a bandaid right that moment because she is going to bleed to death from a minor scrape. There is no 6 year-old who really wants to help cook, especially with stirring the boiling water on the stove. A nine year old who announces he just spilled milk on the family room carpet. An 11 year-old who has to cook 1 hour every week for his class at school and seems to want to cook on the most difficult night of the week. There is the 13 year old who wants to eat before he heads out to soccer practice and the husband who will walk in the door from work at any moment. Last, but not least, my kitchen doesn't stay clean.

As reality set in, I realized I wouldn't trade her places. I wouldn't trade all this for anything.

Go to Work With Mom Day

Last week, the little boy I work with couldn't go to school because his wheelchair needed to be repaired. His mother asked if I could work with him at home for a few hours. She even said I could take Vanessa with me. (She obviously doesn't know Vanessa and doesn't read my blog.) I was apprehensive about taking her to work with me but it saves me from paying somebody to watch her.

He has a little sister who was home that day. She is a few months older than Vanessa. They played well together and seemed to really enjoy each other. They played outside for a little bit then came in for some hot chocolate.
Vanessa loved going to work with me and you can see why. It wasn't about me at all. She was happy to have a new friend to play with. It was a positive experience for all us and if it works out maybe we can do it again sometime.

While I had my camera, I snapped a picture of my patient. I fell in love with him the first time I met him and when we did an earthquake drill at school, I knew that I would give my life to save his because I consider him one of my own. He is such a fun kid to work with. I love the way he sings to me and laughs at me. He is truly an inspiration. I've learned to really appreciate the little things in life. I consider his family my friends and would love to hang out with his mom. I'm so grateful to work with him and have him part of my life. I love my job, not just the nursing aspect but the mothering aspect of taking care of him. I feel like I get paid to be a mom.That's why I love my job and I'm happy Vanessa was able to have a Go to Work with Mom Day.

Total TV Cop

When I returned home from work yesterday, Esteban told me Vanessa locked herself in her room hours ago. Not to worry, she had be quiet for most of the time. Well, I did worry. I let my "motherly" imagination run wild. I frantically went to work trying to get to her. The unlocking mechanism on the doorknob was messed up, her window wouldn't budge from the outside, and there were no screws to simply remove the doorknob. We pounded on the window and the door to no avail. What's a girl to do? I did what every good TV cop would do. I kicked the door in. (Walker, Texas Ranger would have been so proud!) It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. Esteban and I searched her room and found her sleeping. She was upset that with the door breaking open and us ripping the covers off her bed we woke her up. We were just grateful that she was alive and well.

Aaron called a while later to see how things were going. I told him about the whole ordeal. I thought he would be so impressed that I took such drastic measures to save the life of our youngest offspring. I thought he would be amazed at the tough momma he was married to. (I totally should have been a TV cop instead of a nurse.) Instead, he asked me why I just didn't use a credit card. I hadn't thought about it. He informed me that I would not make a good criminal. (I've had several people in my lifetime tell me that. Is that compliment or an insult? Something about my inability to lie, respect for laws of the land, and downright fear of prison keep me from being a career criminal.) Aaron told me it only took him 5 seconds to get in with a credit card earlier in the day when she did the same thing. I told him it only took me 5 seconds to kick the door down. Then he asked whether the door or the lock was damaged. I replied, "The entire door jam. You know the most expensive part to replace." That's not all. Since the girl's room is part of the original part of the house, built in 1908, the walls are made of lathe and plaster. Not only did the force of my kick break the door jam, it sent a huge crack through the wall. (I have to admit that is such an empowering statement. It would be even more so if I was not the one who had to pay for the damages.) My brother, who is on the SWAT team, was impressed. At least, he pretended to be for my sake. Plus, he doesn't have to pay for the repairs.
Anyway, when Aaron returned home later that night. He simply told me that he loved me. I hope he still feels that way after a trip to the local hardware store. (The pictures really don't do the justice that I think I deserve.)

The moral of the story: Don't get between the momma bear and her cub. I might just turn into my TV cop mode.

I Just Got Fired

Vanessa wasn't happy when I recently corrected her behavior. I know this because she told me I was fired. Yep, I just got canned by my 3 year-old. I thought Donald Trump's Apprentice was before her time but, obviously not.

Later when I had to correct her again. She told me she was going to tell my dad. Grandpa has a soft heart, but I still think he'd be on my side.

This economy it is not a good time to loose your job but, I'm sure I figure out something to do.

Motherhood at the Movies

We took the kids to see the new Indiana Jones movie while we were on vacation. We went to the new upscale movie theater in San Antonio. This place is huge and very posh!
During the movie, I held Vanessa on my lap hoping she would take a much needed nap. I think she was asleep long before her eyes actually closed. It's funny how kids can do that. Well, about halfway through the movie, I felt a warm, wet sensation running down my legs. She wet her pants, therefore, she wet my pants as well. Let's just say, it wasn't a little trickle. She didn't even flinch, and with her sleeping on my lap, neither could I.

After the movie, when I stood up to leave, I realized the extent of my predicament. Due to the position I was holding her in, my pants were soaked front and back as if I had wet myself. I had to walk out of the nicest theater in the city looking as if the movie was so intense I couldn't contain myself.

I was so relieved when we finally reached the parking lot. (That was a very long walk. I avoided eye contact with the other patrons at the theater.) I dug clothes for both of us out of our suitcases. We both received a wipe sponge bath and a change of clothes. Ahhh, the joys of motherhood at the movies. By the way, the movie was really good.

Lists

I recently discovered in the back of my journal two lists I had started some time ago.

Things I Always Forgot
- the nausea at the first of a pregnancy
- not being able to sleep, stand, sit, walk, eat, or even breathe
at the end of a pregnancy
- afterpains (they get worse with each one)
- sleep deprivation
- the pain of teething
- the rigors of potty training
- the stress of Christmas
- packing for a family vacation

Things I Hope I Never Forget
- kneeling across the altar
- hearing the fetal heartbeat for the first time
- feeling the baby move during pregnancy
- seeing the ultrasound
- holding a newborn baby
- baby's smile of recognition
- holding a sleeping child
- playing pretend
- the empowerment of fixing a broken toy
- teaching a child to read and write
- my little Tiger
- a hug from a child
- a hug from my husband
- thumbs up from the soccer field
- hearing "I Love You"
- hearing "Thank You"
- the power of a woman

Can you think of something to add?

Retreat

Last Friday, I went with Aaron to an executive retreat at Snowbird Ski & Summer Resort. I enjoyed getting dressed up and pretending to be an executive (actually, being a mother of four-n-more, I am an executive in my chosen profession, that of staying home). I went to some of the meetings but, didn't go to the seminars. I found a nice little nook where the sun was shining and read a book or played solitaire on the ipod. The most amazing thing was that it was quiet and I didn't have a constant "to do" list going through my head. Aaron and I decided we need to go on retreats together more oftenThen we had to come home and face reality.

Aaron's sister Lauren spent Friday night with the kids. When she arrived at the house with her friend Ammon, they found Vanessa running around naked. (It was the first time Ammon had been to our house. I wonder if Lauren fully understood what she was getting into when she agreed to this arrangement.) We hurried home on Saturday to beat a storm that was blowing in. We arrived home in time for Aaron to go to Esteban's soccer game and I took AJ to his friend's baptism. Later, Esteban reported that while we were gone, Vanessa clogged the toilet with an entire roll of toilet paper (I'm not sure why I thought life would be easier once I got her potty trained but, it's not). Esteban used every towel in the bathroom the clean it up, then dumped all the the wet towels in the clothes hamper. I had to do all the laundry in the house (not the welcome home I was hoping for but it could have been worse, what if he didn't clean in up?). Lauren said to me, "Your life is so complicated." I replied, "This isn't complicated, this is just life." Thinking about it not only makes me want to go on another retreat but, simply retreat.

Rise and Fall

Esteban slept unusually late this morning. He played an amazing soccer game yesterday, he is covered in scrapes and bruises from various activities, and he was up in the middle of the night. I think his body was absolutely exhausted. As I found myself tip toeing into his room to make sure he was breathing, I realized I had done this many times before. Once again, I just needed to see his chest rise and fall.

The first night he ever slept through the night was on my birthday. He was only a month old. Like every new mother who finally gets a decent night's sleep, I sprang out of bed in panic as I realized the baby hadn't cried for hours. I ran to the nursery to watch his chest rise and fall. Calm swept over my body as realized he had given me my first birthday present as a mother.

He is almost as tall as me now, but he is still my baby (don't tell him I said that). I realized this morning that I will always be his mother. Being concerned comes with the territory. I also realized there may only be a few more times I can step into his room just to watch him sleep and see his chest rise and fall.

Way Too Funny/True

A friend recently sent me a link to an ebay auction. I was intrigued and found the most hilarious/true post I have ever read. I couldn't pass it by and want to share.

Those of us who grocery shop with kids know exactly what she is talking about. Happy reading.

Ten-N-More

For those of you wondering, the title of this post is not about my future aspirations. Just read on and you'll see...

A few weeks ago, we had the chance to meet up with one of Aaron's mission companions and his family. Paul and Aaron actually served together twice and they were a great companionship. I doubt they realized as they walked the streets of Venezuela that at some future point, they would have a total of 11 kids between them.Yep, they have 6 kids (one little girl is hiding behind her mom) and as you all know, we have 5. We met them at Temple Square, which is where Janet, Paul's wife, served her mission. I enjoyed talking to her about her mission and motherhood.

As I talk with other women who are mothers of big families I find it very interesting. We are the masters of multi-tasking. We carry on conversations, while constantly counting heads, and answering children's questions. As I talk to women about the challenges of motherhood, I find they feel the same way I do, we wouldn't have it any other way.

Laundry Day

Do you realize what laundry day is like around here? Do you want to know? Probably not but, here goes anyway.Twice a week, I have all of the dirty clothes dumped on my bedroom floor where I sort the clothes according to color or texture. This equates into 6-8 loads of laundry. Each load is washed and dried. When a load is finished drying I hang up all the clothes that need to be on hangers and the rest go upstairs where I sort them into piles according to the owner. The boys are responsible for folding and putting away their own clothes (Ethan prefers the crumple and stuff approach).

It is a little easier in the summer, but it still takes most of the day to get it all done. Is it really ever done? I don't think so. I guess it's just part of being the mom.

A Day for Women

Sometimes I need a break from writing about life, so I can just live life. I think that is what happened this past week. Now, I'll catch up on a few things.

Let's go back over a week to Mother's Day. I can't have a blog all about mothering four-n-more and not mention Mother's Day. Aaron and the kids made breakfast. The kids sang in church. We had dinner at my parent's house with my family. AJ gave me this picture of myself.

You have to love the sunglasses. I'm so cool! I've debated about putting a head shot on my blog. Maybe I'll use this one. It looks just like me.

My close friend Charlene sent me a card that read "It's Mother's Day -24 hours of thanks and appreciation....surrounded by 364 days of reality. Enjoy it while you can." (How true that is).

I love Mother's Day, then again, I am a mother and that is how it should be. The kids were great and I love having a day all about me. I know so many women that don't like it. There are the women who are not married, those who can't have children, some women had horrible mothers, and there are those who are mothers but feel guilty for not being the "perfect" mom. It seems, all these feelings come to a head on this day.

I think it should be day to celebrate womanhood, not just motherhood. Although, being a mother is part of being a woman, there are so many wonderful gifts we have as women whether we have children or not. I think being feminine is something all women should celebrate.

My sister's friend told me, "Happy Mother's Day!" I replied the same to her, she is not a mom so I hope she didn't find it offensive. Every time Savanah told me "Happy Mother's Day". I told her the same. I hope someday she is a mother, and if not than I hope she uses this day to celebrate simply being a woman.

Motherhood

I saw a sign recently that read:

Who are all these children
and why are they calling me Mom

(That is what it is like around here somedays.)

Pick your Battles

A mother needs to choose when it is important to take a stand. As a mother of four-n-more, it is important for me to pick my battles. One of these "battles" is what the kids wear.

Savanah is very particular about what she wears. I tried so warn her about wearing a princess gown to the playground. She wouldn't listen and soon found it was difficult to swing, slide, and climb in the equivalent of a 4-year-old's prom dress. Maybe next time she'll listen to me (I doubt it).

Gone are the days when the boys wore what I picked out for them. Esteban wanted to wear some wore-the-day-before-grass-stained-pants to school. AJ wears a red & blue striped shirt with his camouflage pants. It wasn't until Ethan wanted to wear this shirt that I took my stand.

Something about the way the whole he ripped in his shirt frames his bellybutton. The battle line was drawn and I prevailed. The shirt was thrown away. I have won another battle for today. I'm sure there will be a new battle tomorrow about something else. AHHHH, the joys of motherhood.

It's A Girl!

I will never forget the day we found out our 4th child was to be a girl. With all three of my previous pregnancies, I felt in my heart it would a girl. By the time the 4th came around, there was no doubt, it was a boy. His name was going to be Seth.

The day of the ultrasound, the technician surprised us with the words, "It's a girl." and continued on with the examination. Aaron and I sat in stunned silence. A tear trickled down my cheek. After a few minutes, in a hushed voice Aaron said, "We have 3 boys at home." The technician immediately returned to the area of her body to confirm that it was our little girl.

She was born three weeks early arriving on December 18th (another big surprise, the boys were all late) with lots of dark hair (another surprise, the boys all had blonde fuzz, in fact, my one of my first thoughts was, "They've switched my baby!"). Her middle name is Belen, the Spanish word for Bethlehem. She will always be our Christmas miracle.

Everything we bought for her was pink. Her room was painted pink. It was so fun finally buying dresses. We make no excuses for spoiling her. After three boys, we were celebrating the change of pace, however, I think she was perplexed at the thought of being the only girl in a house of boys.

Now, she loves her big brothers and wants to play with them all the time.

Two days after moving in to our new house, we celebrated her 4th birthday. Four is a really fun age. The anticipation of her birthday was almost more than she could handle. She loved opening her presents

and blowing out the candles on her cake (that cake is so lopsided it looks like it's right out of a Dr. Seuss book.) She has a way of wrapping her dad around her little finger so tight he is willing to play "pets" with her and Vanessa.
As we celebrated her birthday a few weeks ago, I was reminded what a blessing it is to be mom.

A New Favorite Book

I have a new book to add the list of my favorites. It is a book written and illustrated by my Ethan. It is called "The Penguin who Wanted to Fly". His teacher even made it into a hard cover, just like a real book.

It is a story about a penguin that makes several unsuccessful attempts to fly only to wake up and discover it was all a dream. He is really a falcon that wants to swim. If you remember, Ethan love falcons. They are his favorite animal and what he really wanted to be for Halloween. It's no wonder that he wrote a book with a falcon as the main character.

I love the creativity and imaginations of children. Seeing a child so proud of his work is one of the very best parts about being the mom.