tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78796146620403943282024-03-12T18:47:48.398-05:00Smiling Through the RainTo say that my life has been a rollercoaster would be the understatement of a lifetime. In the past 2 years, I went through betrayal by my spouse of 15 years, and both of my parents passed away. I'm now on a journey to redefine who I am and what I want in this world.Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03777400850337711004noreply@blogger.comBlogger517125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879614662040394328.post-16947412025494824712021-01-31T20:56:00.004-06:002021-01-31T20:56:32.739-06:00The Resurrection<p> So here we are. It's now a blog graveyard. The followers have long since moved on and infertility is something that I've somewhat put in the past (only considering I don't want any more kids). So why am I here and writing again? What's the purpose? </p><p>This was my safe place. It was where I came when everything seemed much too hard and I needed to feel comfort. I wanted to express myself in a venue that others would reassure me and even understand me. I still love and have always loved this blog. It guided me during some of the hardest years of my life, dealing with infertility and miscarriage.</p><p>And you know... I guess it will help me again now. Because life is freaking TOUGH. You know the phrase "I've went through Hell and back"? Yeah, I feel that in my soul now. I could have a blowout in the middle lane of the highway during rush hour traffic, manage to pull over my car on the side and call for roadside assistance without my pulse increasing even 1 beat per minute.</p><p>That actually happened. And when it did, I realized that none of the world's minor inconveniences or everyday worries would ever be able to affect me again. I'd survived some of the worst blows possible. Nothing could destroy me at this point. And there is some kind of strange relief that comes with knowing that. I'm more resilient and strong and flexible than I ever imagined. And what's even crazier- I've learned that most of it comes from within.</p><p>Obviously, it's amazing to have a terrific support system. And I am forever grateful to my friends who have pulled me through this nightmare. But I also realize that YOU are tough enough in your own core to pick yourself up and carry on. Through whatever challenges and battles and heartaches life throws your way. Because it will. </p><p>I thought my life was perfect. And for a moment in time, it was. I had everything I'd ever hoped for. The only problem was that lying just around the corner, in the dark shadows I was unaware of, lied a series of terrible misfortunes that have wrecked the existence that I just recently loved so much.</p><p>People will betray you. Even a person you have loved over half of your life and shared children with. And sometimes it will come in a way more shocking than what you ever could have imagined. People will die. And they don't necessarily spread their departures out pleasantly to allow you time to grieve and heal. It can literally happen within months. My parents died 4 months apart. </p><p>And all of this sounds super gloomy and sad, except my entire message is to say that better times are coming. I'm at rock bottom. This is what despair and sadness and loneliness feels like. But I KNOW this is not it. I'm destined for greater things and happier days. So hang in there. Today can be really ridiculously hard, but you have no idea what treasures await you tomorrow. </p>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03777400850337711004noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879614662040394328.post-74645003798009163102021-01-20T18:18:00.001-06:002021-01-20T18:18:19.711-06:00How Did We Get to This???<p>Many mornings, I have actually felt a tear roll down my cheek before I even manage to pry my eyes open. That is never a good sign for how the day will then progress. I've learned that grief comes and goes in brutal, unpredictable waves. The stretches of "good" days has definitely gotten longer with every passing day and I start feeling confident that I have things under control. And then... BAM. The sadness and anxiety hits me like a train and I may spend a day merely surviving.</p><p>This has all taught me a ton about self-care. I have to be extra mindful to get my sleep, rest when my body and mind are screaming at me to do so, and avoid any stressful situations as best as I can. Because grief is EXHAUSTING. When I say that, I mean it feels similar to the worst flu you've ever had as far as the fatigue goes. I will literally have to lay down and often even sleep to manage the overwhelming sensations it brings. </p><p>What has really been interesting to me about it all is how I can go from completely hopeless and defeated one moment, certain that this can absolutely never get better. Then a song comes on the radio that I love, and before you know it, I'm singing happily in the car like nothing ever happened. I swear your mind does this to protect you from emotions and situations that are just too much for the human brain to accept. And with compounding losses such as I've had, I also can only sort through them one tiny piece at a time. The others have to be boxed up and put away neatly for some other day.</p><p>But how am I doing after losing my husband and both parents in a very short period of time? Better than I ever would have expected to be possible. The human spirit is amazingly resilient and no matter how much a person suffers, there is always that hope that remains for the future. I'm lonely without my people. I would give anything for a phone call from my mom. But this is what it is. And I'm going to pick up the shattered remnants of what life used to be, and turn that into something beautiful. </p>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03777400850337711004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879614662040394328.post-587378117012779312021-01-18T19:50:00.004-06:002021-01-18T19:50:44.182-06:00The Long Overdue Update<p> Once you've heard a bit about what I've been doing the past 2 years, you might better understand why my blog went unattended. So, in a nutshell: I was living my perfect life. I'd been married for 15 years to the best guy I knew, finally had the two kids I had struggled so hard to have, and was living in my "forever" home on the most beautiful land. It was good. </p><p>And then it absolutely came crashing down. I found out that my marriage wasn't at all stable anymore, and that one of us (him) had essentially checked out without notifying the other (me). It was absolutely devastating. I left home with the kids for a few weeks to gather my thoughts and feel like I was in a place where I could mourn the loss of a relationship I had long cherished. I was certain I would grow old with this person. Obviously, I learned a whole lot about how much someone can change and that no one can truly be completely trusted.</p><p>Things were tough from there. I filed for divorce, and tried to begin scraping up the shattered remnants of the life I once had. It felt empty and I felt lost. Betrayal is one of the hardest things to deal with, in my opinion. This was a form of grief, but with the person still living and breathing. And I've found that in most cases, the person who caused the destruction doesn't typically feel any type of guilt. I've had to learn to forgive when an apology isn't made. </p><p>Soon after this, my father committed murder. I'm not kidding. He shot and killed my stepmom. There will be lots of posts regarding this because it is a pivotal point of my existence. I can tell you that it changes your perspective on so many things, and actually I learned even more about forgiveness. He spent several months in jail before having a stroke, and dying in the hospital shortly after. If there is one crisis that I have dealt with the most, it is this one. And I realize that sounds crazy.</p><p>Speed forward a grudgingly terrible 3 months, and my very best friend in this world (my mom) was diagnosed with lung cancer. And it was already advanced. This is a woman who spent 12 hour days at Universal Studios with me and the kids 6 weeks prior and rode the biggest rollercoasters while there. So to say it was a shock doesn't even do it justice. She had a cough. Then she had fatigue. And then two different doctor visits got her nowhere. She fought for a mere 2 months before it became too much. And March 12, 2020, I lost my mom. </p><p>Of all the trauma I have endured over the past few years, losing her was in a league of its own. I could conquer anything with her by my side. We were always together, and talked so many times a day. We took trips together and raised my kids together. She was my person. And then she was gone. And the loneliness and emptiness I have felt since is astounding and deafening. I've thought sometimes the heartache is so intense that it will surely stop beating. But it doesn't. </p><p>So, here I am. I'm raw and vulnerable and angry and hopeful. Everything has changed, and yet my kids are the most important people ever. My focus is so much clearer now and I'm able to truly see what my time and energy should be spent on. And I'm unwilling to spend any time with a person who drains any of that from me. I'm glad you're here and I'm looking forward to writing this next chapter in my life.</p>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03777400850337711004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879614662040394328.post-55442675966205261092018-07-13T22:38:00.001-05:002018-07-13T22:38:14.170-05:00It has been WAY too long since I’ve posted here and I’m eager to rejoin the blogging world!!! The kids are 5 and 7 and super fun, I’m working at a medspa doing injectables and lasers full time and I’m 14 years in to marriage now. <br />
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But here’s where life has now lead me! I have been driven to do a medical mission trip over the past few weeks and I’m very set on Haiti. Yes, they are currently having a temper tantrum over the increased fuel prices which they definitely can’t afford, but that country needs help!!!!! <br />
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So, I’m here to tell my story of how this all goes! I’ll need lots of prayers and support in this crazy endeavor!Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03777400850337711004noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879614662040394328.post-40088554324665154802014-05-18T17:45:00.002-05:002014-05-18T17:45:42.888-05:00Blogging FailureThe fact that I blog less than I exercise is not a good sign. I miss you all. And I'm glad to be where I'm at because the problem is that my cup runneth over. Life is crazy. The kids are growing and becoming real people and exploring and I'm still struggling to figure out how to parent a VERY challenging 3-year-old.<br />
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Dear Paisley is actually quite a joy to raise. She is spunky and energetic and funny. We desperately struggle to stifle our laughter as we discipline her for things that I never expected her to do or say. She is the center of attention and loves her baby brother like there's no tomorrow. I've never met a more opinionated and divalicious child though. She picks every piece of clothing she wears, which toy she brings in the car, exactly what she is willing to eat, how her hair is fixed, which door she uses to get in the car, etc. <br />
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I hear you out there judging me. I would have to until I gave birth to Whitney Houston Jr. I'm telling you now, I've tried to hold my ground and refuse to give in. Guess how that went? Several hours of crying and fit throwing allowing us to NEVER make it out of the house. We would literally have to just board up the doors and windows if we decided to make a war out of this crap. And the house would implode from the fighting.<br />
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So, pick your battles. I make her do what has to be done whether or not she likes it. But this little firecracker doesn't settle back down once you get her fired up. It's a snowball effect and you will lose every single time. Most sentences of hers start with "But why you not _____?" or "But why I not have _______?" It's quite because it's so grammatically incorrect, but after the 100th time of hearing it in a day, it gets a bit tiring...<br />
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Sweet baby Graham, on the other hand, is a doll to parent. He is exactly the opposite of his sister (which we prayed desperately for). He is calm, laid-back and easy in every regard. I adore this boy and how much he snuggles and loves on us. With that said, he talks a LOT less than his sister did at this point. He is slower in all developmental milestones, for that matter. Not that we care. When he waited until 17 months to walk, the only thing that annoyed me was the questions from family/friends about when he would start walking and when we should get concerned. Back off, peeps. This is not a competition.<br />
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I work hard all the time to find the balance in my life. I'm going back to work part-time this month (one day a week to start and we will consider a 2nd day in the future) doing botox and other cosmetic procedures at a local spa. I'm excited to be doing something other than rectal exams and listening to women talk about depression for an hour. Sure the family practice gig is "more important", but I'm too tired now to deal with that. My job is now my time away. :)<br />
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Hope everyone is doing well and I really will make an effort to get my rear in gear and start posting more!Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03777400850337711004noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879614662040394328.post-91336587427780222722014-04-21T12:15:00.001-05:002014-04-21T12:15:02.276-05:00Flying soloLast month, I went to Chicago for 5 days with two of my PA classmates for a board review course.<div><br></div><div>Can I just tell you how EASY it was to fly alone?!? I made it through security in record speed, sat uninterrupted throughout the flight and even read a book (gasp!!!). </div><div><br></div><div>And even though I missed the little people, I thoroughly loved eating with friends and sleeping peacefully and bathroom time alone. </div><div><br></div><div>Aaron and I will be in Costa Rica for 8 days this summer and I worried about how I could leave them for so long but now I know I can. It's important for me to have time away so I can remember who I am and enjoy doing non-mommy things. Plus, I'm super excited to spend a week with poor neglected Aaron!!!</div><div><br></div>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03777400850337711004noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879614662040394328.post-22322922310954876672014-02-26T15:56:00.001-06:002014-02-26T15:56:04.515-06:00The Twins are HereI had several people who read this who asked for more details so for those of you who have no interest in my new breasts, skip this post. I won't blame you. <div><br></div><div>I went in at 8 am and had surgery at 9. We were in the car driving home by 10:45. I initially felt some tightness around my chest from the muscles being stretched, but have had no discomfort since coming home. I took one norco for pain and I'm icing the girls every 2 hours. I've been lying down because I'm supposed to but I feel like I could easily tolerate mild activity. </div><div><br></div><div>For those who are local, I used Dr. Justin Jones at Waterford plastic surgery. He came highly recommended as the best in the state for this from a pa friend who works in the field and an anesthesiologist friend who has worked with a lot of plastic surgeons. I had several consults but chose him because he was very thorough, and had amazing before and after pictures. </div><div><br></div><div>We did silicone gel implants under the muscle so they don't interfere with mammograms and look more natural. I chose 355 cc to bump me from my current large A to a full C. They look like my nursing boobs already! </div><div><br></div><div>So, I'm already pleased that I went through with it and I look forward to seeing how they settle over the next few months. Woo-hoo for a better body and more self confidence in a swimsuit!</div>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03777400850337711004noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879614662040394328.post-56443402126013072132014-02-24T12:30:00.001-06:002014-02-24T12:30:54.047-06:00Mommy makeoverWell, in two days I will be gaining back some of my awesome nursing curves. I have decided to have a breast augmentation! Now, before any of you go to judging me and acting like I'm super self-absorbed, let me explain my reasoning.<div><br></div><div>I have always been super happy about my appearance and am really low maintenance. I've never even used an eyelash curler, see a hairdresser about once every two years and buy clothes and purses that are not name brand. Those things just aren't important to me.</div><div><br></div><div>I've always placed a lot of importance on taking care of my body with exercise and decent eating (love Mexican food and cheesecake unfortunately). I loved my appearance during pregnancy. Even with 45 extra pounds and swelling in my legs that made them look like elephants, I thought I was pretty. I loved my curves!</div><div><br></div><div>And breastfeeding was even better. I got to be skinny again and have awesome boobs. What more could you ask for? </div><div><br></div><div>So I spent four years straight either pregnant or nursing, so I was surprised at the changes in my breast when I weaned Graham. I knew it wasn't going to be pretty but after nursing a big eater for over 14 months, damage was done. And I no longer wanted to wear a swimsuit or change with anyone in the room. Including Aaron.</div><div><br></div><div>So, surgery is Wednesday and I'm getting hot again. Should say hotter because I bet these puppies look way better than before. </div><div><br></div><div>I'll update later in the week on how things went and how I'm keeping my two snuggly people from clinging to my chest!</div>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03777400850337711004noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879614662040394328.post-18022546133331161802014-01-30T08:41:00.001-06:002014-01-30T08:41:22.361-06:00ER visit<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_R21Ru5fpsRQzaWUHAGbcuAao1aVixyirsZ6xP9Gi5L_Ga_oyEizFxgZTV8HisbbsJupfXS68x8z8mNDoBUAmDvSXXd2rlIbep5AbmHi7lrjOYEAoGmMfmq1jne9w-aHE_-BJTkkhH9U/s640/blogger-image--1850175722.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_R21Ru5fpsRQzaWUHAGbcuAao1aVixyirsZ6xP9Gi5L_Ga_oyEizFxgZTV8HisbbsJupfXS68x8z8mNDoBUAmDvSXXd2rlIbep5AbmHi7lrjOYEAoGmMfmq1jne9w-aHE_-BJTkkhH9U/s640/blogger-image--1850175722.jpg"></a></div>My kids love to freak me out. These kids never go to the pediatrician for any reason other than vaccinations. They aren't ever sick or hurt. It's pretty amazing. But we just made our third ambulance trip last night.<div><br></div><div>First was Paisley's trip in Vegas after having a seizure. Next was Graham's transfer to the children's hospital from another hospital with meningitis. Now last night....</div><div><br></div><div>Graham was sitting on a cute kid's chair in our living room. He stood to scoot it behind him and tipped forward, hitting his head on our wood floor. He stood up immediately but couldn't get a sound out and then passed out. Aaron yells for my help and hands me an unconscious, non-breathing baby. He is now stiff and blue and non responsive. </div><div><br></div><div>I tell Aaron to call 911 and thump Graham on the chest a few times. (It's the beginning of CPR). I haven't checked for a pulse yet but I know he isn't breathing. So, after what seemed like 30 minutes but was about 30 seconds- he took a breath. He remained lethargic for the next 20 minutes but was almost completely normal by the time we got to the hospital.</div><div><br></div><div>We avoided a head CT because we did observation and he didn't vomit or have any clear indication to do one so that was a relief. I sure didn't sleep much though!!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbI6ZZOrMRgkJg6piqwqjdGNSXypIVXhan7lC2V8M1CCEFFCvW4RMM9tBZ8-AeKrk9F4jYSUoYVpfDQfeZ3DwDgEqASu6B5PjLvwl-sz9eg31FH-6nWu2dh2S37-R1_PcUCk_tWt9g_2k/s640/blogger-image--159304320.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbI6ZZOrMRgkJg6piqwqjdGNSXypIVXhan7lC2V8M1CCEFFCvW4RMM9tBZ8-AeKrk9F4jYSUoYVpfDQfeZ3DwDgEqASu6B5PjLvwl-sz9eg31FH-6nWu2dh2S37-R1_PcUCk_tWt9g_2k/s640/blogger-image--159304320.jpg"></a></div></div>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03777400850337711004noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879614662040394328.post-77368172193918714902013-12-13T13:06:00.003-06:002013-12-13T13:06:44.192-06:00Santa Claus<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I miss blogging. It's just that I'm trying to minimalize the busy-ness in my life right now because the holidays always make me overwhelmed. Like I get a bit crazy. All the gift-giving, shopping, parties, family, friends, drama, food, etc. Sounds fun to most people but I just do better with simple. And that word hasn't described my life since giving birth 3 years ago. Sooo, I go missing from time to time, but I keep up with everyone else's blogs! </div>
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This was my mom's attempt at a Christmas card with the kids. It looks like they were decently enjoying it but the truth is both kids were having fits for absolutely no reason. She used it anyways.</div>
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My ornery little stud-muffin playing on the stairs.</div>
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Graham having a VERY rare fit. I had to capture the moment.</div>
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Sweet sibling time in pajamas. Times like this one melt my heart and make me feel good about my decision to have two kids.</div>
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Graham was totally not sure about Santa, but Paisley loved him as usual.</div>
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Writing her Santa letter. It's really long, but she says it only asks for a "white doggy". Great.</div>
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This shows her personality in full force. Love it.</div>
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<br />Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03777400850337711004noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879614662040394328.post-49894085044243647832013-12-04T23:00:00.001-06:002013-12-04T23:00:18.266-06:00Unique Diva<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin6uCqr4hPmqRLbESiPOU4lW_2a69AqXdTdzxzhQIdR9sVTfdlcW2tBtzWBv8hQ67J11gGrwRRK73rTrSNHGbdRrgzvEIf7TEraFI9CL5G0ZvtQCvc9ouF1-zuz8y-Lo6A-hsvHqcHRvA/s640/blogger-image-2056081892.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin6uCqr4hPmqRLbESiPOU4lW_2a69AqXdTdzxzhQIdR9sVTfdlcW2tBtzWBv8hQ67J11gGrwRRK73rTrSNHGbdRrgzvEIf7TEraFI9CL5G0ZvtQCvc9ouF1-zuz8y-Lo6A-hsvHqcHRvA/s640/blogger-image-2056081892.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Paisley's teacher, Ms. Cristi, sent home a picture of her from school today that made my heart so happy. If you don't know which one she is, that would be the very pink and frilly little movie star in the middle. No, it isn't picture day. It isn't Easter or a school program. That was just the outfit she insisted upon that day.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Raising Paisley is far from easy. Her day can fall apart if things don't go just right. You have to put on her left shoe first. Never cut up her bananas- she likes them whole. She will get herself in and out of the car without your help thankyouverymuch. She turns off the lights and TV when we leave. And heaven forbid you don't zip up her jackets and put the hood on before opening the door.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP4RCZHgXBiPDcn5hTac-3_ddrOxNyfGgle1Iy8T72c8iDGrV0j6MCxlG0uTLlOA2VNqEZJzZH6d8qVN_Q7vBW5FecNoP7cUgEy5Vl18SD1h3giMPm_HTsm4Xywcwb7f12OounJXD5SXA/s640/blogger-image-1229884146.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP4RCZHgXBiPDcn5hTac-3_ddrOxNyfGgle1Iy8T72c8iDGrV0j6MCxlG0uTLlOA2VNqEZJzZH6d8qVN_Q7vBW5FecNoP7cUgEy5Vl18SD1h3giMPm_HTsm4Xywcwb7f12OounJXD5SXA/s640/blogger-image-1229884146.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">But what I've learned is with every demand she has, she also is becoming a very strong-willed independent girl who knows what she wants. She isn't ever afraid to voice her opinion and she stands up for herself. Those sound like <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">traits she might need down the road...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Yesterday she was having a conversation with my cell phone which concerned me so I looked at it and realized she was talking to Siri. She would mumble to her and Siri would reply, "I did not understand that." And Paisley would respond, "you didn't?" Like she just couldn't imagine why this mechanical voice wasn't picking up what she was saying.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">She also is very loving and cuddly and thoughtful. The kid loves to go anywhere and rarely complains if we're in public. And she's pretty. Really pretty. And funnier than I ever imagined a 3-year-old could be. And she has ensured that our house is full of life and excitement. </div>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03777400850337711004noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879614662040394328.post-49213913567996990992013-12-02T22:59:00.000-06:002013-12-02T22:59:48.938-06:00Where Have I Been?!?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Where in the world has time gone? It's like I blink and a month has passed without a single blog post from me. I would try to explain the Bermuda triangle of time that seems to suck away hours and even days without anything to show for it. But it is truly just filled with crazy kid stuff. And a teeny-tiny bit of sleep. <br />
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We've been doing great! Spending lots of time with the horses while the weather has been nice. The three girls are all doing wonderful. One of them had a squamous cell cancer of the eye, but one of our best friends happens to be an equine surgeon so he removed it and she's doing well. I realize the above picture is of a baby naked on a horse. This is Graham as Lady Godiva. :) Actually, he had just destroyed his clothes playing at the land...<br />
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Paisley is still her very happiest on top of a horse. She sings sweet songs and zones out into her own pleasant little world. I absolutely love it. She thinks its awesome to brush them and give them hay and treats. And it's hilarious when she tries to boss them around as if they're smaller than her. One of them seems genuinely obedient to her, which is crazy considering the thousand pound difference in size. :)<br />
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Paisley has been really good lately which makes me believe that she's saving up her energy for a really rough phase soon. :)<br />
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We were a farm family for Halloween this year which Paisley insisted upon. I wanted to be superheroes, but the girl wins. Every.single.time. Can't wait to see what we'll be next year.<br />
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Graham FINALLY started walking!!! Paisley walked on the week of her 1st birthday, but we knew Graham was going to take things a bit slower. We did not know, however, that he would be nearly 16 months old before he'd walk. He is so much happier and so much less needy know that he can get around on his own. He plays with Paisley more and allows me to walk out of rooms without acting like I've walked out of his life forever.</div>
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He also weaned finally which I may have mentioned on one of my previous posts, but it still seems worth another shout-out since it took 15 months. I wasn't all that sad to wean either child because I thrive on increasing independence. Baby neediness kinda wears me out and I love having more of a relationship with the kids as they get bigger. </div>
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Sooo, life seems to be finding a new normal finally. Having two kids was an adjustment but not nearly as much as having the first. That rocked my world for a LONG time. They really love each other and I really love watching them interact. Totally worth it.</div>
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<br />Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03777400850337711004noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879614662040394328.post-48736836674366877122013-10-28T08:42:00.002-05:002013-10-28T08:42:34.233-05:00Tornado AftermathFive months after the deadly tornado that tore through my city leaving a wake of destruction in its path, houses are popping up all over. Businesses have rebuilt, street signs are repaired and the debris is cleaned up. People have healed.<div>
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Right?</div>
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My mom and I were running errands by our house yesterday and just decided to stop by the elementary school (Plaza Towers) where 7 young kids were killed when the tornado leveled their school. We've been by here a few times to check for progress or visit the small memorial on site. </div>
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Yesterday was the most encouraging because so many houses are being re-built and most of the tragic destruction is removed. It almost looks like a normal new neighborhood, save for a few seemingly abandoned houses that still look like a warzone. It felt good to see that. Even the school has been completely cleaned up and the beginnings of construction are underway to replace it.</div>
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But on the far side of the school, the marquee still stands. It is a mangled up piece of metal, clearly demonstrating the devastating effects of the storm. On it reads, Awards Assembly May 20th. It's as if that sign is a permanent fixture frozen on that terrible day. Nearby are 7 crosses symbolizing the innocent babies lost here. They are wooden and beautiful and eerie. They shouldn't have to be here.</div>
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And as we were slowly pulling by, a young man in a truck pulled up and waved politely at us. He was in a work truck and I assumed he was there on business. Until he got out of his truck and walked purposefully towards the roped off makeshift memorial.</div>
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He crawled into the cordoned off area and before I realized what was happening, he reached out and placed his hands lovingly and desperately onto the 3rd cross. The grief was PALPABLE. It radiated through the air and seemed to stop all time.</div>
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I froze in the car, goosebumps all over, beginning to realize what I'd just witnessed. A father's loss. Still just as fresh and raw five months later. Completely unaffected by the positive changes and growth occurring all around him. Simply a parent who had suffered the unthinkable loss of a child.</div>
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It reverberated throughout my entire soul the rest of the day and still affects me this morning. I wanted to turn around and embrace him. Tell him that others still remember too. Make him feel not so alone. </div>
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Grief is still very much here. We don't have as many physical reminders anymore, but the wounds are far from healed. My heart goes out to those that will be spending their first holidays without these kids soon.</div>
Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03777400850337711004noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879614662040394328.post-52488846489503131562013-10-16T14:09:00.000-05:002013-10-16T14:09:10.414-05:00Not the Easiest JobWhen someone described parenting as a job, they were mostly correct. It is a lot of work. The part they seemed to have missed was that you are completely unpaid. And usually underappreciated. And you never get to leave "work". The job continues 24/7. <br />
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You may think when they go to bed at night that you have you're "break" time. I disagree. You are still on call. Those little munchkins may wake up crying or with explosive vomiting or diarrhea or with a sudden desire to pee/get a drink/eat a snack/change pajamas. I'm so thankful when we go 8 hours straight without an interruption. <br />
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The current stages we are in is definitely difficult. Paisley goes through weeks where she is so pleasant. She is funny and enjoyable. Then she can transform into this little terrorist whose sole purpose on this planet is to torture her mom. Right now, she doesn't like me. For real. She chooses my mom or Aaron over me ALL the time. I'm not a sensitive person at all but it has admittedly broken my heart a few times.<br />
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I'm doing some personal research on whether or not it's better to just let her avoid me and back off or if I should try to press on in trying to make her love me more. Neither seems to change things significantly. I guess the good news is that I'll be prepared for her teenage years.<br />
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Graham is still pleasant and funny, but has not been a fan of weaning. I completely cut him off a week ago now and he still gets mad about it in the morning which is the one time he was still nursing. Poor baby would have nursed FOREVER. He's also still not walking (almost 15 months) and I'm really ready for him to get going. He loves to be carried and I know that's why he sees no need in walking. But my arms are wearing out and it is so much harder to get things done while lugging around a 22ish pound baby!<br />
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Life is just hectic and exhausting around here. Nothing too crazy to report! Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03777400850337711004noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879614662040394328.post-91412922505254684422013-10-04T21:45:00.000-05:002013-10-04T21:45:09.536-05:00Birth ControlSuch an interesting turn of events that the blog that started as my comfort and safe place during the lonely world of infertility and charting and fertility drugs has now morphed over time into this. The days that I am embarking on long-term birth control and preventative family planning. Marking the end to my family building and settling in to the wonderful little group we've become. <br />
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It's a happy place for me. I love and adore my two little people. They are incredible and I love them even more as they are getting bigger and more fun and more interactive. Our lives are full and exhausting and overwhelming. And I don't want an accidental number three.<br />
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My IUD has been in since Graham was 8 weeks old. I would have had it inserted during my C-section if I thought that was an option. We went with the paragard which is non-hormonal. It was a simple procedure to have put in and hasn't caused any trouble since. Who knows what periods would be like because I haven't had one since I got pregnant with Graham. I am just now weaning him completely and breastfeeding totally shuts AF down for this girl. In fact, I have only had two periods since becoming pregnant with Paisley almost 4 years ago so I'm kinda spoiled to not having them.<br />
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Here's the deal though. My infertility doc wanted me to be on birth control pills when not pregnant or nursing. So, I have an appointment next week to go to the doctor for a prescription. But I'm hoping he'll let me keep my IUD in for the full 10 years it's good for as well. Putting two men in the goalie. :)<br />
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People asked why I just didn't tie my tubes during my C-section. 2 reasons. 1.) My hospital forbids tubal ligations because it is a catholic hospital. 2.) I need to be on birth control pills anyways to control my PCOS. So, it just didn't make sense to schedule an outpatient tubal or even a vasectomy. But I definitely am not opposed to combining multiple forms of birth control! :)<br />
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Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03777400850337711004noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879614662040394328.post-39111176240809541722013-09-26T22:37:00.000-05:002013-09-26T22:37:53.000-05:00Long time, No seeHey friends,<br />
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It's been a month and I've been totally MIA. We went on a week-long cruise with both kids to the Virgin Islands which was amazing. And tiresome. And we're still recovering. I should totally post some adorable babies in swimsuits on the beach photos. If only I could remember where I downloaded them.<br />
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The big thing going on in my mommy-world right now is weaning. Or the attempt to wean. Big man is now almost 14 months old and if it were his choice, we would nurse until college. Seriously. So, whereas with Paisley and I it was more of a mutual decision and seemed natural and easier, this one is a doozy.<br />
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I've weaned him down to one feeding just in the mornings but I swear my breasts are hard as a rock and fuller than I've ever seen them by morning. The milk fairy needs to spread the love elsewhere because I cannot cold turkey this with the production still up like it is. Why is my body not getting the hint that this ship has sailed and we need to cut off the factory?!?<br />
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So, my plan is to nurse him only in the morning for a few more days and then try to nurse on only one side in the morning giving the other side 48 hours to dry up more. I'm also going to get some cabbage leaves to put in my bra. Already taking 800 mg of ibuprofen three times a day. I've also heard sage tea might help. Anyone with advice out there? I'd be willing to eat/drink/apply/snort/sniff/ingest about anything at this point if it would make this process easier. <br />
Like it isn't already psychologically draining enough to know you are ending a beautiful bonding process with your last baby, I don't exactly need the physical pain. <br />
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I should say I am incredibly thankful that I have had such a long, successful breastfeeding relationship with both kids. My poor boobs are worn out though. I dread seeing the aftermath the nursing left behind....<br />
<br />
<br />
Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03777400850337711004noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879614662040394328.post-20378574622995154062013-08-28T15:16:00.001-05:002013-08-28T15:16:44.903-05:00Happy birthday Paisley!!!I cannot believe my firstborn has turned THREE!!! The moment she entered this world, my life changed forever. I have not been well-rested or relaxed since that day, but it is all so worth it. She has the most infectious little laugh and has such a huge personality. <div><br></div><div>We had an awesome party with a cookout and swimming and then horseback riding. Even daddy's tortoises came to meet everyone!</div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJodc3M0TiwB1vT9iFLVX3VmmU51po1Y7ZUM-7cnnDOlAU5Ur5g1Ci1io9CaXB9gtI9oh03t6G3qPTXjzJGJeBOeyixoc9rus9yKsOubyg_YQsa4brgHq1_sFFA-qbws5aCix00BWZCDY/s640/blogger-image--609573873.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJodc3M0TiwB1vT9iFLVX3VmmU51po1Y7ZUM-7cnnDOlAU5Ur5g1Ci1io9CaXB9gtI9oh03t6G3qPTXjzJGJeBOeyixoc9rus9yKsOubyg_YQsa4brgHq1_sFFA-qbws5aCix00BWZCDY/s640/blogger-image--609573873.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCY3Fevk6GUBLEA44T2oZf7hw0hl8VWdAqdz9LDSClBAkf8EPzJyTBYXYblEXUllZ1T2G9ICXE3UThnLK2ZNzw-gUD9WeoCByDRvNAMJrDjKUXJ32n1KZjjPfsXdMxq8_88v4yP9vmo48/s640/blogger-image-515895919.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCY3Fevk6GUBLEA44T2oZf7hw0hl8VWdAqdz9LDSClBAkf8EPzJyTBYXYblEXUllZ1T2G9ICXE3UThnLK2ZNzw-gUD9WeoCByDRvNAMJrDjKUXJ32n1KZjjPfsXdMxq8_88v4yP9vmo48/s640/blogger-image-515895919.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgD3_Q29IL9KqAenDr2bwwfEno8zEw8ImX3R9_aHRJkmg5eBMrLfMLEQ22qXVUqf0oojcQ5S-hULrzmbu0Fo6l5NS36rp1IzI-Fbkufj0smaHlHO5aRfQJva6g9rv09OPuFRci2O31rQs/s640/blogger-image--1156774770.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgD3_Q29IL9KqAenDr2bwwfEno8zEw8ImX3R9_aHRJkmg5eBMrLfMLEQ22qXVUqf0oojcQ5S-hULrzmbu0Fo6l5NS36rp1IzI-Fbkufj0smaHlHO5aRfQJva6g9rv09OPuFRci2O31rQs/s640/blogger-image--1156774770.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9yRByPbdgb0gMcvWBTvBpRuCEnlOBrXrfLqAyYNoDugNPFqfKDwm-taEMxmhhGArFUo_ySg1hMilmmE05uzyre1EATWnPqHhC3LYSj8g1l9BjtpjlfZgi4t00MAdw2cQiOOeMJr89twI/s640/blogger-image-1735633714.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9yRByPbdgb0gMcvWBTvBpRuCEnlOBrXrfLqAyYNoDugNPFqfKDwm-taEMxmhhGArFUo_ySg1hMilmmE05uzyre1EATWnPqHhC3LYSj8g1l9BjtpjlfZgi4t00MAdw2cQiOOeMJr89twI/s640/blogger-image-1735633714.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbbrurNRWlcduT6k6-r6AEUWYw6awYKxL_l2AtHS-_C-yzapeo31uP1vgmyVoinqHNL4d9F_UQc4dptfLWpNEtVLSoEh9J-AstV51aqvGn-YmDLQmNaf99867ThmALYO4kfqcgZ0NCrZA/s640/blogger-image--1478440233.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbbrurNRWlcduT6k6-r6AEUWYw6awYKxL_l2AtHS-_C-yzapeo31uP1vgmyVoinqHNL4d9F_UQc4dptfLWpNEtVLSoEh9J-AstV51aqvGn-YmDLQmNaf99867ThmALYO4kfqcgZ0NCrZA/s640/blogger-image--1478440233.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1SMMf9mJcDPj6h3n4UGPLtiZLm1nDZ9vERR17RnhZyy8TnjO4MxeeCWD0cKETELWal8De0zD_-gjKeWecGNRM4L7zxy20U-OEOinQimGUznj2_bCYOXLn4wQ4uhJND7dVDgQTFvgIQMQ/s640/blogger-image--1330970191.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1SMMf9mJcDPj6h3n4UGPLtiZLm1nDZ9vERR17RnhZyy8TnjO4MxeeCWD0cKETELWal8De0zD_-gjKeWecGNRM4L7zxy20U-OEOinQimGUznj2_bCYOXLn4wQ4uhJND7dVDgQTFvgIQMQ/s640/blogger-image--1330970191.jpg"></a></div>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03777400850337711004noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879614662040394328.post-87160458712753215952013-08-20T08:15:00.001-05:002013-08-20T08:15:25.796-05:00Our Three HorsesFor those of you who live out of state, you may think all Oklahomans ride horses to work everyday and wear belt buckles the size of our heads. TV shows do not help our case with such stereotypes. We always cringe about the contestants they choose from here on all shows because they are always as country bumpkin as they can get.<div><br></div><div>With that said, we have always wanted horses. I have loved riding since I was a little girl and Paisley already adores them. So when a popular riding stable near us closed due to owner retirement, all of their horses went to auction. We went and won three of the child friendly horses!!!</div><div><br></div><div>Meet our three mares, "Honey", "Buzz", and "Molly". They are amazingly gentle with our kids and we are all in love with them. They do great with trail rides and give us lots of affection.</div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKFlXS1ayxbPEyNfbpIMH3IUoZWMsbCN4qUne-WxH3Z9u5TwzHWxjcrela6Zkhe1kwzDkTHCPyT8OSX4Qc7ENz6_QQH_P2b4T0Xn10Do2UbYq2pioR02hIXEcsUuOpA0sEydLUhJmTvIU/s640/blogger-image-609671887.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKFlXS1ayxbPEyNfbpIMH3IUoZWMsbCN4qUne-WxH3Z9u5TwzHWxjcrela6Zkhe1kwzDkTHCPyT8OSX4Qc7ENz6_QQH_P2b4T0Xn10Do2UbYq2pioR02hIXEcsUuOpA0sEydLUhJmTvIU/s640/blogger-image-609671887.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4HABPvH7y4JoRUuglP3WVSMyg9umq7BKywHRPYX6T_IY4qmogrY2NDWk7L9uleeGvLgMId6RKJUxfUliIn5wEoK-ANLub08jJIDNcRoTtTYDQuSxD-QmRuqvE-XzAb5n1Ec9VBWnoB3w/s640/blogger-image--741197456.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4HABPvH7y4JoRUuglP3WVSMyg9umq7BKywHRPYX6T_IY4qmogrY2NDWk7L9uleeGvLgMId6RKJUxfUliIn5wEoK-ANLub08jJIDNcRoTtTYDQuSxD-QmRuqvE-XzAb5n1Ec9VBWnoB3w/s640/blogger-image--741197456.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLW-diSGkrUu9apNs5vKFcuTsrTgj48ruAGX6xFcCsW0mPVACvfYGi0n8zdLKeiYT-zn7BPnh0mV3wOS0AUNgWuCHVAXpeH1tBY6yPWHWxHi21edBUehbm6rZMgt9WPBuQDf_q1nEVKJ8/s640/blogger-image-287640192.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLW-diSGkrUu9apNs5vKFcuTsrTgj48ruAGX6xFcCsW0mPVACvfYGi0n8zdLKeiYT-zn7BPnh0mV3wOS0AUNgWuCHVAXpeH1tBY6yPWHWxHi21edBUehbm6rZMgt9WPBuQDf_q1nEVKJ8/s640/blogger-image-287640192.jpg"></a></div>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03777400850337711004noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879614662040394328.post-46532542528205542862013-08-17T22:27:00.001-05:002013-08-17T22:27:47.100-05:00Off the LedgeEveryone can breathe a giant sigh of relief and tell DHS that they don't need to investigate for now. This house is back to normal.<div><br></div><div>There is a very direct correlation between my attitude towards parenting and breaks from Mother's Day out. When they have a break for holidays, they spend way too much time with me and with each other. And then add an illness for each of them along with teething for one and you have a MESS!</div><div><br></div><div>And the kids seem to thrive on the structure of school. Which is just not something I am good at providing. I'm very much a "let's-just-wake-up-when-we-feel-like-it-and-do-whatever-we-feel-like-doing-at-the-moment" kind of person. Plans are fine if they happen to be made, but Aaron and I were spontaneous and unstructured before kids. And now we are even more so because life is crazier.</div><div><br></div><div>Moral of this story is that I should give you all fair warning when the kids will be out of school for several weeks again (Christmas) so that I don't have the SWAT team busting through my windows to rescue me from my insanity. :)</div>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03777400850337711004noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879614662040394328.post-70712503860887563792013-08-13T18:29:00.001-05:002013-08-13T18:29:31.069-05:00FailingLately I've been really stressed out as a mom. Both kids had fifth's disease which produced a nice rash all over both of them, but the worst part was the foul moods that appeared. We've now had two tough weeks of fits and mood swings. And I was lying in bed last night after fighting Paisley for an hour to go to bed, and a thought hit me like a freight train.<div><br></div><div>I don't hate being a mom. Trust me, I've felt worried that maybe this wasn't the right role for me. But then I figured it out I sometimes just resent that I'm not as good as I thought I'd be. I know my own mom was better. My expectations I had set for myself were just so much more than what I've actually managed.</div><div><br></div><div>I pictured myself as fun and productive and calmer and organized. The kids would have tidy little rooms and perfect schedules and cute activities. And maybe I should have known that none of that fits my personality, but a girl can dream...</div><div><br></div><div>What I'm living with currently is an almost 3 year old who has decided she HATES her brother 100% of the time and her mom about 75% of the time. The interesting twist here is that she is obsessively clingy towards me the other 25% of the time. She doesn't like the way I do anything and I feel tons of guilt about bringing her brother into the situation because I know I could do better if it were just her. She wouldn't have to share her toys or her time or her parents if she were an only. </div><div><br></div><div>I loved my life as an only child. I still don't wish I had siblings. :)</div><div><br></div><div>And then Graham. He is pictured in the dictionary under the phrase "mama's boy". He dotes on me all day long. He requires me to be touching him or holding him. I'm only nursing him twice a day now and it's going to take a nipple removal to completely wean him. And then I think he'll still try.</div><div><br></div><div>He is walking yet but is a fast crawler and cruises along everything in the house. Furniture, pets, people... And man, he wants so badly to play with his sister.</div><div><br></div><div>And I want so badly to not have to discipline my darling daughter all day. I don't want to end the day with her crying because she doesn't want to go to bed. And for goodness sake, is it too much to ask that the kids could just tolerate each other a bit better again?!?</div><div><br></div><div>They really are amazing kids and are so good much of the time. But the past two weeks are the kind that have led people into padded rooms or liquor stores. :)</div>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03777400850337711004noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879614662040394328.post-58038399434318084302013-07-31T11:22:00.001-05:002013-07-31T11:22:56.345-05:00Happy Birthday Graham!!!My sweet little baby boy is one today. He has been such an amazing blessing in our lives and I adore him so much. I love his sweet, laid-back personality. He lets us drag him around all over the place to do the things that his opinionated big sister likes to do and he even seems to enjoy it.<div><br></div><div>He has the most beautiful smile I've ever seen and his laugh could melt your heart. I am so glad that I put my tremendous fear of having two kids aside because he truly completed our family.</div><div><br></div><div>Happy birthday, little man. I hope all of your dreams and wishes come true.</div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWPlvTn5riZTxavAQM02KiGwr8034X_U_u7m6ycTA23wcH2DOQHV9gOKHLflfV6ICee8WUSc__7SMeuUyyu_A54-CMCjumKOfdnHJLUqWDoTlw-oUNFAwx2cTF_bNyrYma4WrAf59yMGs/s640/blogger-image--509013409.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWPlvTn5riZTxavAQM02KiGwr8034X_U_u7m6ycTA23wcH2DOQHV9gOKHLflfV6ICee8WUSc__7SMeuUyyu_A54-CMCjumKOfdnHJLUqWDoTlw-oUNFAwx2cTF_bNyrYma4WrAf59yMGs/s640/blogger-image--509013409.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPGgzmuBjDDBWpzwdDOx-OqwbMvtNJ87pDy_UFzgdZ16jdVaqlfHZs13-kNLhVxusv4uDwc5Nf4i6UOrjOMYATPWRFdFmcAvMVCYYrRQk-6xIqE63diqAcvYYy1QirlVwgIolSSZ4SClU/s640/blogger-image-979417233.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPGgzmuBjDDBWpzwdDOx-OqwbMvtNJ87pDy_UFzgdZ16jdVaqlfHZs13-kNLhVxusv4uDwc5Nf4i6UOrjOMYATPWRFdFmcAvMVCYYrRQk-6xIqE63diqAcvYYy1QirlVwgIolSSZ4SClU/s640/blogger-image-979417233.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij2oKOkHbV1-N_hIcglXUqYNb1h6ivCuH-VCjo4w0CyPbgvdgstxGxGHIhy3Ka-32HHnIptoEhmLKGAnCkaL81DQ9GtZ3ezXWX_ezhvTZ9aprYX_FnRUZxmzlblzas40FMwQJxu2D5IHg/s640/blogger-image-1841684536.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij2oKOkHbV1-N_hIcglXUqYNb1h6ivCuH-VCjo4w0CyPbgvdgstxGxGHIhy3Ka-32HHnIptoEhmLKGAnCkaL81DQ9GtZ3ezXWX_ezhvTZ9aprYX_FnRUZxmzlblzas40FMwQJxu2D5IHg/s640/blogger-image-1841684536.jpg"></a></div>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03777400850337711004noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879614662040394328.post-59600680625237063782013-07-26T08:37:00.001-05:002013-07-26T08:37:28.279-05:00She looks just like her daddyWhy is it that it annoys me SO much when people (always women) tell me that my kids look like their dad??? I obviously think he's attractive and chose to have kids with him. But it grates on my nerves every time I hear it.<div><br></div><div>Maybe it's that I don't agree. Sure they both have resemblance to us but even our own parents don't think the kids are spitting images of either of us. Aaron and I agree that they are a perfect combination of us.</div><div><br></div><div>Maybe it's that it takes me out of the equation. As if I didn't carry these little people around in my uterus for 9 months and squeeze them out of a tiny opening and nurse them for a long time, often overnight, and completely become sleep deprived in caring for them. Only seems fair that they would resemble me a little. Right?</div><div><br></div><div>And I know it doesn't matter. They are beautiful kids and are perfect. Somehow it just makes me crazy when people are so determined that they look just like daddy. </div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg749nopfxMbdrShvEBWM97GYtsUEWeh7BoDJOVuz9kzgWg3FkiCg64XmYLAfLMbqCNe8uQAEdOvTlxzHqLpbmK-xM5_isdUd86rhJ9jW5VwSoV6u8Vm4eChnsB3OaY8E7vT3JDjPrzlpg/s640/blogger-image--1789162571.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg749nopfxMbdrShvEBWM97GYtsUEWeh7BoDJOVuz9kzgWg3FkiCg64XmYLAfLMbqCNe8uQAEdOvTlxzHqLpbmK-xM5_isdUd86rhJ9jW5VwSoV6u8Vm4eChnsB3OaY8E7vT3JDjPrzlpg/s640/blogger-image--1789162571.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC6yOSFg4ydtvFlDpCWVXwlo4lcaLFfRraZi5DiIiXMF_Lcrzk3oDu5lt4Zt8a30eRqyKwKHfWL2hIZJqV9sUiK_FGOh8QHIuQK-eysZ5in5HMdlx5UBOWS4K9ujJsSUorWBN3YwpRmSs/s640/blogger-image--3755220.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC6yOSFg4ydtvFlDpCWVXwlo4lcaLFfRraZi5DiIiXMF_Lcrzk3oDu5lt4Zt8a30eRqyKwKHfWL2hIZJqV9sUiK_FGOh8QHIuQK-eysZ5in5HMdlx5UBOWS4K9ujJsSUorWBN3YwpRmSs/s640/blogger-image--3755220.jpg"></a></div>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03777400850337711004noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879614662040394328.post-64004713941234934942013-07-14T08:43:00.001-05:002013-07-14T08:43:01.628-05:00My Amazing KidsThese two children have been impressing me lately. I feel like each is changing and growing so much right now as they are both creeping up on birthdays. He is playing with Paisley more on his own and becoming increasingly mobile every day. I still think he may be a late walker but he can cruise well now and crawls FAST. <div><br></div><div>Paisley's language development is astonishing. I swear every morning I feel taken aback by how adult-like she sounds. It's so much fun having conversation with her now and she is a funny little person. I adore this child.</div><div><br></div><div>Watching the two of them play together has been the most rewarding part of parenting so far. Last night she was doing a "check-up" on him and he was laughing hysterically. One of those memories that I wanted so badly to capture on video but couldn't risk ruining the moment.</div><div><br></div><div>Like when Graham stretches his head around while I'm holding him to smile sweetly at my face. Or when Paisley wraps her tiny arms around my neck at night so that I'll lay down with her. Those are just times I try to engrave on my heart so I never forget.</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXvURzHRG89hXUxQmrea8FukwqvZ4lD4N3OQQvUSylkFbwdheiFfT9iZmT5W-hpCZUGL7VYc49p1smUtp5pANn1Mk0wIb_EPnIKH2yUqVesAqZ9Vk0Wbxbn3mtXIy5L8nMCogwfCvj954/s640/blogger-image--1289977698.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXvURzHRG89hXUxQmrea8FukwqvZ4lD4N3OQQvUSylkFbwdheiFfT9iZmT5W-hpCZUGL7VYc49p1smUtp5pANn1Mk0wIb_EPnIKH2yUqVesAqZ9Vk0Wbxbn3mtXIy5L8nMCogwfCvj954/s640/blogger-image--1289977698.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuk9Yv46qDGfpKHyDiHWmLXRCv8Nvt7faX0c_7lMqYCdR4_nRtg2qGeDm8Y_wke1gi4tvxbQM3vU4JXdiIdvK44NQEYELR6PDDLAhPjDi-fFYIHPGkHPN-BeZNmRBfZB6oNqg-lwtndLo/s640/blogger-image-884019847.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuk9Yv46qDGfpKHyDiHWmLXRCv8Nvt7faX0c_7lMqYCdR4_nRtg2qGeDm8Y_wke1gi4tvxbQM3vU4JXdiIdvK44NQEYELR6PDDLAhPjDi-fFYIHPGkHPN-BeZNmRBfZB6oNqg-lwtndLo/s640/blogger-image-884019847.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5pIurh2KvsffL0fjMuiZ_T46PNdc5IlE-UCNzI3Z1-emjastYFntnMHaV-C32IJI-UoBK9EbjHHF1gWjPeCAY4qFPydxAyb_ZU7CRlcn7zkl85g7Tg6Q5Xt1IyGy8WR6xZQRkdpIWOYM/s640/blogger-image--577799780.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5pIurh2KvsffL0fjMuiZ_T46PNdc5IlE-UCNzI3Z1-emjastYFntnMHaV-C32IJI-UoBK9EbjHHF1gWjPeCAY4qFPydxAyb_ZU7CRlcn7zkl85g7Tg6Q5Xt1IyGy8WR6xZQRkdpIWOYM/s640/blogger-image--577799780.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs1mQAMArib4d0bgpsiytLjBmS4vlNQZ2TPoylo-nreMACYv6CXDbt0sMyjdGotOVYwPci9JZ937oKLQ7BCHKeHLVJCXM6icB6OECQjd-R7xmgPQjEGoXZO43FsOPonsjqt4msFwHE_iE/s640/blogger-image-2011482698.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs1mQAMArib4d0bgpsiytLjBmS4vlNQZ2TPoylo-nreMACYv6CXDbt0sMyjdGotOVYwPci9JZ937oKLQ7BCHKeHLVJCXM6icB6OECQjd-R7xmgPQjEGoXZO43FsOPonsjqt4msFwHE_iE/s640/blogger-image-2011482698.jpg"></a></div>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03777400850337711004noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879614662040394328.post-76009804766577373472013-07-01T11:43:00.001-05:002013-07-01T11:43:15.596-05:00Operation "Please-Stop-Nursing"Operation "Please-Stop-Nursing-For-The-Love-Of-My-Sanity" is looking to be a failed mission. I am ready to be done with this phase and Graham needs to agree with me.<div><br></div><div>We are so lucky that we had two great breastfeeders. Paisley gradually transitioned to the sippy cup and whole milk by 9 months though while Graham is 11 months old now and still wants to nurse every 2-3 hours even if he is eating solids well.</div><div><br></div><div>He hates ALL sippy cups. It doesn't matter to him if they have handles or straws or cute patterns or awesome shapes. They all suck compared to mom' bottles. And he's never taken a bottle.</div><div><br></div><div>But as much as I've enjoyed the sweet, quiet nursing time with both babies, I need to reclaim my body. I want to get back on regular birth control and feel like I have energy again. I want to drink three glasses of wine without worrying about it. And I want to leave my house without fear that he is going to lose his marbles without being able to nurse.</div><div><br></div><div>So, my current plan is to pump during the day as much as possible so that he can have my milk in his sippy cup. Then he also won't be too successful if he tries to nurse. And I'm going to try to spread out feedings to every 4 hours and then hopefully start cutting them back even more.</div><div><br></div><div>This is soooo tough. I love this little man and I don't want to make him sad. But it's time. :(</div>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03777400850337711004noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879614662040394328.post-20197028049506665302013-06-27T15:24:00.001-05:002013-06-27T15:24:44.153-05:00First Trip to the Principal's OfficePaisley somehow managed to make it through a whole year at Mothers Day Out before I got the much-dreaded, yet very expected, bad report from school.<div><br></div><div>It read, "Paisley is having an issue with naptime. She won't stay on her mat and bothers the other kids. After telling her multiple times, she was sent to Ms. Kim's office."</div><div><br></div><div>She hasn't taken a nap there again since that day and they've stopped sending me notes because I guess my lack of reaction must make them realize that it's a waste of their time.</div><div><br></div><div>Instead of taking a walk of shame with my note in hand, I got a chuckle out of it and put it in her baby book. I did talk to her about not bothering the other kids, but I don't see any need in punishing her over this. </div><div><br></div><div>Well, now they are worried because Graham only wants to nap for 20-30 minutes. Duh. That's all he ever naps at home. When I try to explain that to the three women who all address it with me every time I pick up, I'm met with blank stares as if they just can't fathom the thought of a 10-month-old who doesn't need a ninety minute nap at 12:00 pm in a foreign place with strange people and 7 other noisy babies. Hmmm.</div><div><br></div><div>So, am I crazy for not feeling like doing some crazy sleep training on my baby who sleeps 11 hours well overnight but only likes catnaps during the day OR on my almost 3 year old who no longer requires naps and still only sleeps 8-9 hours at night???</div><div><br></div><div>They only go for 5 hours. Surely there have been other children who don't need naps... And how is it that I feel like they somehow think I can control these two little munchkins and send over sleepy time vibes when they need it? </div><div><br></div><div>Don't get me wrong- I adore this place and waited a long time to get in. The kids love it and I feel great about where they are. But I just can't try to force my non sleepers to do something two days of the week that they aren't doing the other 5 days... </div>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03777400850337711004noreply@blogger.com7