My Ultimate Anniversary Gift

I haven't blogged in... forever.

                  Or at least it feels that way.

It's not yet 6:30 AM in the morning, and I wish I was sleeping.  Last night I prayed really, REALLY hard that I would go into labor today.  I had been thinking, especially once the weekend hit, that I was hoping to not go into labor until today.  Why?  Today is Tim and my three year anniversary!  I just think it'd be an awesome gift to go into labor and at the end up of it, hand our new little bundle of joy over and say, "happy anniversary Love!"  Can you picture it?  It would be a beautiful gift for God to give us today.

I just don't feel like there is enough room in there for this little one anyways.  My ribcage is taking a beating, and I'm tired of not being able to bend over or roll over when I'm sleeping.  Maybe God is trying to instill some patience in me.  I honestly have thought this over, and feel that maybe that's the reason this isn't moving as fast as Bella's pregnancy did.  I know Baby will come in due time, literally, and I have no control over it, but hope that when God decides to plan the "Big Entrance" that he takes into consideration how I feel right now.  haha... 

In the meantime, I am doing what I normally do and emotionally eating my cookies, pop tarts and bread and keeping as busy as my energy level allows me to do.  Yesterday I finally did my Dave Ramsey budget, and as depressing as it always is to look at finances, it feels good to somewhat be in more control.  Miss Bella has been great, despite coming down with a cold.  She's been giving me, and the Baby Belly kisses for two weeks now.  I am sure enjoying my little Gremlin now that she's back to her not-so-screamy self.  Life is good.  Other than being a tad bit uncomfortable, everything else seems to be in place and I am feeling blessed.

But the Baby-in-the-Belly has decided this will be a short post, as he or she has stretched out and is now clinging to their normal spot, my right rib cage and I need to stretch out instead of sit here and write.  Maybe I'll take that as my cue to try going back to bed. 

So with that said, Happy Anniversary Tim (If you ever read this post) and know that I love and appreciate you.  Even if we don't go out tonight and celebrate, I will enjoy my evening just having you here with me.  When you come home from work is my favorite part of the day, as it has been since we met.  Loves!  ~Wifey.

Baby Llama Drama

Just another blurp... in case you're interested...

So after a very insightful comment from an awesome mother (you know who you are), I was inpsired to start a "Home Management Binder".  I think you can read about it under my last post.  I started the same day I recieved the comment, I googled it and I am working on creating a home management plan to fit my life and my time.  If you haven't started one, I would give it a look on the internet.  It seems to be a useful tool for Moms who get overloaded with every day life.  It is taking some compiling and time to put together, but it allows me to have a "one stop shop" for pretty much all of my projects, cleaning lists (so I can make sure my floors get scrubbed more than once a month), finances, medical information, childcare, schedules for work and daycare, meal plans, etc.  When I'm done getting it to how I want it to be, I think it'll really help me sort out my week/day!  :)  Thanks for the wonderful, insightful idea!

Other than that, we're still waiting.  I've got one week and four days until my due date and today I go into the clinic for yet another OB appointment.  I'm going to have them check for progress as over the weekend I endured three days of strong braxton hicks contractions and I was nauseous (pretty much the whole 9 yards).  I was dilated to two, two weeks ago, and 50% effaced, so I am hoping for a progress report that shows... well.. progress.  Baby must have moved down, as I can finally breath and eat and not feel like a stuffed hippo after a few bites who can't walk down the street without loosing her breath.  Yes, this pregnancy has been much more challenging than the first.  It's just making me all the more ready to go, and estatic to finally hold my little pumpkin.  I am just hoping it all goes down sooner than later.

I'm also bringing Bella in today.  I got a notice telling me she was up for her second Hep A shot.... I was told she was done having shots until 5... I guess I'll have some question asking to do when I get to the clinic this morning.  But I am concerned about her.  She is getting increasingly more difficult to deal with.  She wakes up in the morning and from her naps screaming, randomly screams throughout her meals (with tears and all), screams through her bedtime (it hasn't been a peaceful sleep around here for awhile), and her naps are pitiful, she won't eat a whole lot, and is refusing even her beloved peaches and pears.  She's just not been very Bella like, and I am becoming more and more stressed trying to figure out what's going on.  I'm hoping it's teeth and nothing seroius, but non the less, she's going in with me today to see if there is anything major going on BEFORE baby arrives.  I can't imagine having a newborn baby and screaming toddler that cries just as much as newborn.  Keep her in your prayers, I just have a gut feeling that she isn't feeling the greatest and something is up, whether it be molars or an ear infection (hopefully nothing more serious).

....  That's about it folks.  I'll keep you posted and tell you what the doc says, maybe he'll tell me I'm 5cm and ready to get induced.  Haha... I wish.  I have been praying and praying and praying and I have found one cannot "will" themselves into labor, as much as I'd like to think that I can...

Wish me luck, and keep that in your prayers too, that just possibly, maybe they're off on my due date by about 10 days... hehe... :)  I'M READY!

The Ramblings of a Crazy Person: My Expression of Self

I have been trying to write these posts in a certain format or style, but today I just don't feel like following suit.  Today I just feel like writing to write and use my writing as a form of expression.  So with no theme, rhyme or reason, here it goes...

It's 11:00PM and I'm awake.  Big surprise huh?  If you knew me, you'd know I don't sleep anyways, but none the less, not at least trying to get a few hours of sleep in the late PM hours generally leaves me tremendously paying for it the following day while trying to run after Miss Bella.  My lack of sleep derives from my inability to shut off my brain.  In fact, I can remember most of my dreams or my thoughts throughout the night, and I'm not sure I ever truly fall into that "deep slumber" that so many people look forward to when their heads hit those fluffy white pillows.  It takes days of this "up all night business" before I will fall asleep peacefully and wake up wondering where the night had gone.  The good news?  It won't be too different for me to be up with a newborn come a week or two.

With my anxiety level amped up, sleepless is my middle name.  I go to sleep at night anxious that I may go into labor (anxious in that I want to BE in labor) and then I wake up around 2ish, severely disappointed because I'm not.  I'm not full term until Saturday, but really... I'm 37 weeks and 5 days... but who's counting?  I'm close enough!  I'm ready to go and I'm tired (literally) of waiting.  Ultimately, what I want is a healthy baby... I am just asking for a healthy baby sooner than later, and definitely not after 40 weeks as I fear my husband may divorce me (totally joking) if I go overdue and he has to put up with me and my emotional recklessness.

But it's not just baby that is keeping me up at night, it's other things.  Earlier on this week, I could no longer stand my dirty floors and with my husband home to watch the Gremlin, I took the opportunity to really scrub them.  We have a mop, but I opted for the more labor intensive route and got on my hands and knees and washed all of the floors in the house (with a hidden motive of possibly putting myself into labor).  But as I scrubbed the unidentifiable black spot out from underneath the couch, I thought deeply about what I was doing really.  I told my husband, "Some of these spots have been on this floor FOREVER, and sometimes a person just needs do it the hard way and put some work into it to truly work the mess up and off of the floor.  There is no way that mop has been getting these floors as clean as I'm getting them now.  Sometimes things in life just need a good spring-like cleaning, and that takes a bit more work."  This thought led to another and eventually I had an epiphany.  I hit this ah-ha moment often, and each time I do, I am motivated and my eyes feel opened for awhile.  A new found vision as to where my life is headed, or rather where I want it to go.  Sometimes I wonder if these moments are God-inspired, as if he is slapping me upside the head, telling me to get my crap together.

Just like my floors need a little hard work once in awhile, I feel like I need to put a little elbow grease into my own life and work up some of the dirt.  Life, at times, feels stagnant, boring, and at times entirely unhappy.  I have no one to blame for these feelings but myself, as I often become lazy in my perseverance to be a good, happy, healthy and vibrant person, the person God wants me to be (which includes many other good qualities not listed here).  I see so many people around me fulfill their life goals and they seem peaceful with where they are in their own personal journeys, and I often wonder how in the world they got there.  Who told them which roads to take and how did they acquire enough energy to get through all of the obstacles, or did they just get lucky and they landed in that spot from the very beginning?  Maybe some people have that luck, but I think it's a select few that do.  I struggle with this, how do I get from point A to point B, and be who God wants me to be.  The fact that I am continually struggling with myself tells me that I am not doing what I should be doing.  Something is missing.

Writing has been a huge relief to me, and I often find that when I don't write, I get more anxious and more unreasonable.  So why do I go for a week and not write?  Well, that's because I'm tired, but that's really no excuse.  I think that I am at a very difficult time in my life with all of the changes and challenges.  Prior to marriage and children, I had an array of friends, each unique and wonderful and they fulfilled some part of my life that needed nurturing (but even then I felt something was missing).  Being moved away from everything that I know, and now with children, one cannot help but feel a bit isolated.  It wasn't until Bella got about a year old that I found it difficult to be "Mom".  It is such a precious and God-given role, but unless you're one of those people that miraculously gets put on the right path from the very beginning, you're probably a mother just like me that gets overwhelmed with the constant screaming, poopy butts and the lack of daylight hours and energy.  I often wonder if somehow someone is playing a prank on me and stealing a few hours between dusk and dawn.  Really, where do the hours go in my day?

I am not asking for sympathy, but I am so frustrated.  How do people do it?  That's what I want to know.  How do people be God-like, and have the energy to pray each morning and every night, and brush, floss and rinse with mouthwash twice a day, just as the doctors say.  (Hey, that rhymed!)  How do mothers have the energy to get up and look beautiful for the husbands each morning, manage to have the house clean by 5:30PM when they arrive home, keep their babies happy, and still have sanity?  Maybe they don't?  Because I know that when I strive for this life, I usually end up burnt out and exhausted within a few days of time.  Or how about the people that lose tons of weight on Biggest Loser?  They show you how to physically transform your body, but come on!  You can lose all the weight in the world, but unless you stop buying Twinkies, you're screwed.  How do you mentally wrap yourself around giving up an addiction that you still need to survive.  I'd rather be addicted to cigarettes I think sometimes, then I could at least separate myself entirely from it.  You can go the rest of your life without touching cancer sticks, but you can't stop eating food.  Darn, it just happens to be that food is necessary to live, which makes my struggle with not eating it all the more difficult.

My epiphany, or my ah-ha moments, are times when I can visualize the person I am meant to be.  I get excited thinking that it's a possibility, that my life could really be like that.  But then, the more I think about it, the more distressed I become.  How does one change the parts of your life that make you miserable and unhealthy, especially when you know no other way.  And where the h-e-double hockey sticks, do you get the motivation for the movement of change?  So if you're out there, and reading this and you have ideas I am honestly open to some insight.  What makes you happy and how do you juggle the struggles of life and come out on the other end not coo-coo?  Each person has a method to their madness, and if they don't they have to be feeling like me. 

The thing I need most is time, time to myself and time with others.  This time is divided up as such (In no particular order):
      A)  Part of my day with just me, time for silence, reflection, prayer.
      B)  Time to get things done and focus on household chores or projects, which can
            include others.    But simply time to get stuff done, otherwise my house would fall apart.
      C)  Time with my husband, intimate time.  Time for us to talk and love each other in whatever
            language we speak (READ THE 5 LOVE LANGUAGES, an absolute MUST for couples)
      D)  Time with my Bella Bumpkin, playing and learning with her and loving her.  Family time! 
            And this soon will include Baby Frits the II
      E)  Time with others outside of my immediate family.  Whether that's my siblings, my parents or
           my in-laws, or just friends.  I need someone else included or my husband will get
           overwhelmed with me spewing every detail of my day and life on him.  This is exactly why
           people need others in their lives, it gives them a different perspective and level of support.

I think these are healthy perspectives to have, healthy wants and needs.  I was thinking that I would try to get to bed at night around 9PM and wake up at 5:30AM, two hours before Bella perks awake.  That would give me an hour of reflection/me time, and an hour to do stuff around the house.  In this time I could pray, drink a cup of coffee or tea and reflect about where my day is headed, my goals and what I want to accomplish.  The next hour I can work on cleaning, if I so choose, and maybe get things together for lunch and supper.  By this time, Miss Bella would be awake and my busy and most challenging part of the day begins.  I could work on my physical self and jog with the babies or walk to the park each day, besides I heard that physical activity releases endorphins that make you happy and less depressed (just what I need).  My time with Bella is very lacking currently, as I spend the majority of my time trying to get things done, I really think that if I were to get up earlier and get stuff done before she awakes, then I would be able to fit more time in with her.  I also need to realize that things don't have to be perfect around here.

The part that is challenging is where do you fit in time for the husband and the friends?  Tim needs time to himself too, and often when he comes home from work, he is thrown into watching Bella and entertaining her until bed.  After that, he spends the rest of his night relaxing and unloading from the day.  His days off are becoming consumed with working and I work on the weekends (most of he time).  Date night once a month doesn't really cut it, it would be like waiting for an intimate conversation and time alone every 30 days.  I think we need more time together than once a month, but it's hard to justify paying for a babysitter more than once a month.  And it's hard to meet people in a new town that you feel comfortable with and people that you want to spend time with (or that seem to want to spend time with you).  I think this last paragraph is where most of my "I'm missing something" comes into play. 

Other things that seem to weigh heavy on my mind are the things about myself that I want to improve.  This includes:
     A)  My relationship with my husband, I want to be a loving wife that isn't grumpy all of the time.
     B)  I'd like to be more "put together", not like I just rolled out of bed each day when he gets home.
     C)  I want to be a patient and loving Mommy that spends quality time with her children.  The only
           time I ever want to raise my voice is when it's a severe situation, and I want this to be a rarity. 
          I don't want to have my children see me fight and lose my temper and my sense of self (boy
          this is hard with Bella's constant whining and attitude as of late).
     D) I want to pray each day and every night and devote more of my life towards God's goal for
          me.  Too often I get caught up in what I want and what I think I need.  Good thing I have great
          role models for this struggle.
     E) I want more energy and strive to for the things that are important in my life.  I have no idea
          how to get this one.  I feel so lazy and tired all of time, I don't know how to change that.  I
         think if I felt better, that other things would become easier.  Maybe this is my God-given
         struggle?  I think everyone has one of those...
     F) I want to be healthy and get my weight and eating junk food under control.  Another one of
         those, "how in the world do I do this" type of thing.
     G) I want to be a better person, giving more to others instead of taking.  If I could give back to
         others what has been given to me, I think this would be a great sense of purpose and fulfillment
         in my life.  Less focus on me and more focus on the greater good! ;)

So if you've stayed with me through this huge post, I appreciate your time in reading.  Like I said prior, I'm not looking for sympathy, but I am interested in how others manage their time and work with these types of struggles.  I am looking for input so that I may find a way to work up the dirt in my life that keeps me bogged down.  I want to be a better, happier and God-like person.  I want to live His purpose and to feel His grace when I am finally living the life that I feel He is pushing me towards.  Some people run, others go to church each day, some people pray fervently (in fact I think most happy people do), so what do you do?

Building the Nest

The fans are dusted, the floor is sparkling, the drapes have been washed, and the cupboards have been cleaned for the first time in nearly 1 1/2 years (or at least they will be by the end of the week).  I have gotten the urge to clean, clean, clean and organize everything down to making sure each pen and pencil, sock, piece of paper, and spare household part has a place.  This is what they call NESTING!  I am about as busy as the squirrels in the front lawn who have been aggressively collecting all of the acorns from our oak tree for their hefty winter food supply.  I think my busy Bella has found her match for the next two weeks or so. 

This urge to get ready was only hastened when I went in for one of my prenatal check ups yesterday.  He sounded pretty confident that Baby would be arriving in September, NOT October, which has given me hope that their is light at the end of this tunnel.  Not that I dislike being pregnant, but there comes a time in the last trimester when pregnancy becomes not so fun.  It becomes a chore to do many of the things you used to do and it takes at least twice the energy to do them.  I can't even remember the last time I could see my feet while standing up or been able to properly shave my legs, instead now I get out of the bathtub just to find a large area that I missed.  Yes, I will be glad when this Baby Bumpkin finally arrives, as we are simply competing for space at this point.  There is a feeling deep within me that tells me that Baby will be coming sooner than later, call it a mother's intuition. 

It's crazy all of the changes that are happening within me, emotionally, physically, spiritually.  One cannot help but feel the glory of God when being pregnant.  You think about how it all began, and how when you found out about this little bean growing inside of you, that it was so hard to believe because this little life seemed so... small and so unimaginable.  You often forget your pregnant in the beginning, until the hormones begin to kick in.  The first three months is like having a mild case of the flu, months 4 through 6 are glorious and the time to truly appreciate being pregnant, months 7 through 9 is like soccer practice and your rib cage is the goalie. 

This little Baby, who was a baby from the very beginning (contrary to what some individuals say), has grown from a few cells to a soon to be 7 1/2 to 8lb, living, screaming, pooping infant in just a week or two.  The scary and most precious part is that YOU are the sole provider for this child.  This Baby will open their eyes and you'll be the first person they'll see, smell, touch, taste, feel.  Their blurry little eyes will spend the next few weeks focusing on you, they'll grow familiar with the smell of your skin and know that you are Mom (or Dad, Sister, Grandparent, etc.), they will feel the softness of your skin when you cuddle them and feel for your hand so they can hold it.  As I will be breastfeeding, I realize that I am this child's primary and only source of nutrition in the first few months, the best there is out there.  This Baby will be dependant on me and Daddy to live, and most everything they learn will derive from us as parents.  How scary and intimidating, and yet how precious. 

Their little eyes are watching you from birth until the day you die, just to see how you do things and how you react.  My 1 1/2 year old daughter is living, breathing proof.  Just today, she came and got my attention, pointed into the bathroom and crawled on the toilet.  She pointed out her toothbrush, and said "more" in sign language.  So we pulled out her toothbrush and I put a dab of children's toothpaste on there and let her have it, as we always do.  But today, she decided that she needed to spit out the toothpaste in her mouth in the sink, no doubt, just as she's seen her Mommy and Daddy do it, as we haven't taught her that part yet.  Or how just being polite to one another in this house has taught her when and how to say "thank you".  Again, not something we worked on, she just picked it up on her own.  I cannot express the great need for parents to see and understand how much their children look up to them and learn from them.  Their behavior, habits, and the way they see the world and interact with it derive primarily from YOU as parents.  Tim and I are starting to understand how important this is just by watching our little Bella act out our every move and say our every word.  We have to watch what we say or she just may say it back.  Eek!

It bothers me to see young children watching shows with foul language, sex and violence.  A child's innocence is so important and precious, and we hope to keep our children as innocently minded as long as possible.  Rather than wait for the world to dirty their minds with filth, we'd rather take it into our own hands and teach them at our own pace.  Wouldn't you rather your children learn about sex, death, and the ways of right and wrong through your ways of teaching rather than at the mercy of others?  There will come a time, many of them, when we will have to sit our children down and explain some hard stuff to them, but they won't be learning it by watching Jersey Shore, CSI, Sex and the City, etc.  Could you imagine if your child learned by watching Jersey Shore the proper ways to treat a man or a woman, or the value of themselves or others?  Also, for this very same reason, why we as a couple must show ourselves as a loving, respectful and happily married union, because that is what our children will see as "normal" and they will either strive to be like you (in a good circumstance) or settle (in a bad one), because afterall, the only way they know is your way.  These shows are only apprioriate (if at all) once they have a healthy understanding of what they are seeing in them. 

It's this whole pregnancy thing, and a child on the way (quite soon) that makes me reconsider how my husband and I parent and what choices we will make.  Everything down to the diapers you put on your child, who's coming to watch your toddler when you're in labor, whether or not you have enough energy in your reserve tank to clean that closet that's been bugging you for the past year, all the way down to thinking about your Baby's first date, their happy moments and sad ones, and their children's children all flow into your mind at once.  You are on OVERDRIVE the last month of pregnancy.  Their becomes a need to work out all of these things with your mind or you simply just can't relax.  So if your a husband with a pregnant wife reading this, cut her some slack.  It's by nature that we act like crazy hooligans the last few weeks; we simply just can't help it!

I haven't written anything for awhile, and I know that everything I write is quite opinionated.  But at least I know where I stand.  I know that my children are the most important thing to me in the whole world and I take raising them up right very seriously.  It's during this very pregnant moment that I feel such a great urge to get some of my thoughts and emotions out so that others who feel the same way know that they are not alone.  Because sometimes taking these stands do seperate you from the rest of the world and you just hope and pray that the decision you make are the right ones. 

My little girl, currently, is fussing, so nap time must be over.  Thank you for reading and until next time, hope you have a beautiful fall-like day!  Enjoy the warm weather while it lasts.

That "Old Married Couple"

No direction for this post yet, but as normal, I feel that one will form

 as my thoughts come to the surface.  Sometimes the best things

written are the ones that form as you hit the keys or put the pen and ink to paper.   

July of 2011
 Stangler family Gathering
in Ely, MN

Another night here and another day gone.  My sidekick and Hubby has been physically absent for five days now, but has managed to send text messages and I've gotten a call each night (for which I'm thankful).  We spend the majority of our days trying to get under each other's skin while we're both home, but when we're apart we miss each other like crazy.  Maybe that's the way most marriages are?  Who knows, I never wanted a marriage like anyone else's.  I didn't want to become that "old married couple."  I think kids make you become that "old married couple"... as do responsibilities of growing up and putting the big girl/big boy pants on.

That "old married couple" we speak of... well, maybe it isn't so bad if you think about it, really.  What is the alternative?  I often wish, at times, that I could be that carefree woman and do whatever I want and be whoever I want to be (you know, the sexy ones you see on TV that are independent and adventurous).  But what would being that woman within that marriage entail?  If drinking, or going out to the bar is what that picture looks like, I guess you can count me out.  I got enough of that in college, and find that it isn't all that it's cracked up to be.  Besides, I'd rather put my money into a good, $10 bottle of wine, rather than a cocktail at the bar.  And a night at the bar could easily cost you $50, and that money would be better served in my children's college fund.  If being carefree means I'd get to be with whoever I wanted and have tons of friends, I am not up for that either.  I'm happy with my husband, he is my best friend and I don't want anyone else in my life or anyone to take his place.  The few friends that I have are genuine and most of them are my own siblings so I have assurance that they aren't going go anywhere.  In any case, they are obligated by blood to like me even on my bad days.

If it means that I'd get to travel the world, and go bungee jumping or go on some crazy adventures... well I didn't do that before I was married and so why would I expect to do that now?  I wouldn't have fun if I didn't have Tim to go along with me, he is generally my motivating factor to do any adventurous stunts anyways. 

Our first hike at the Grand Canyon in 2007 (or so)

Who else could get me to hike the Grand Canyon twice, camp in the middle of some Arizona mountains where some wild dog steals my shoes.  Or how about the time we went hiking miles up a mountainous ridge, under a waterfall, a journey that takes hours and much blood, sweat and tears (literally).  You find that once you get at the top, the 1000+ year old ruins that he promised would "take your breath away" truly does all of that and more and it's even more special because he made this crazy, adventurous hike with you; a journey that you would have never taken otherwise.  He has pushed me to my limits physically just so he could give me the sense of accomplishment that it serves and to show me some of this world's wonders, so I could share in the joys he felt when he saw them the first time.  This man knows me like the back of his own hand, and I wouldn't want our marriage any other way.

Statistics show that I have a 50% chance of making it to the end of my life with the same man I married three years ago this September.  How sad and depressing is it that we, as Americans, have such staggering statistics.  One of my college professors once told me, "It's when you start seeing divorce as an option that it becomes one.  If you take it out of the picture entirely, you'll make it through each fight and still love each other because you have to, there's simply no other choice."  Some of the best advice I've ever been given.  The other came about a week before we tied the knot.  We were out searching for a car to buy that would pull our U-Haul trailer to Arizona; our BIG move scheduled just two days after the wedding.  Tim and I had been at odds and it was getting stressful with just a few days before we were to be wed.

My sister called and felt the urge to confront me about something.  She asked if I was second guessing myself in getting married.  Truth was, I was scared to death and had thought several times throughout that week whether or not we were making the right decision.  This wasn't some small thing for us, being married came with responsibilities and commitments that I didn't take lightly.  When we said those vows, we were in it for the long haul.  She continued to explain that with her first marriage, it came and went and she felt no weariness or concern at all, she tied the knot and didn't think much more about it.  They were in love and that was all that mattered.  This time, with her new husband, she thought about it much more deeply.  They loved each other on a whole different level, getting married meant more to her this time and she was scared to death to take the plunge.  That she too had the same concerns, but thought that she was much happier in this marriage and that the concerns were normal, that it meant that you weren't taking this marriage or the commitment too lightly.  Whew!  I'm thankful for both of those tidbits of wisdom as they had reformed the way I thought then and have changed what paths I have taken since.  I try to pass the same wisdom to those newlyweds around me when the opportunity arises.

The Exchange of Rings, One of the Happiest Moments in My Life
September 27th of 2008

These three years of marriage have not been a walk in the park, to say the least.  We've both had our challenges, some more severe and difficult than others.  Tim has had to deal with some of my excess baggage and took it like a champ while I worked through some of the most difficult parts of my life.  He has been my saving grace and my rock all the way through.  I am not entirely sure that I would be as good of a person today if it weren't for his guidance, strength and PATIENCE (and I don't mean this big-headily, just that I would probably be a whole lot worse of a person).  I think and hope that the feeling is mutual, as I've heard him say, "You're staring to rub off on me and I'm coming around to your way of thinking," when talking about some of the more important issues in (my) life.  He makes me think about things more logically and I make him think more emotionally, working on that whole "empathy" concept.  We are complete opposites and think nothing alike.  We don't agree on much and agree to disagree on pretty much everything.  But we love each other and we love our babies as well as a deep faith in our marriage, our family and our God.   At the end of the day, these things are all that matter.

Right now, he's sitting over on the east coast helping with the hurricane relief.  I'm due in just four weeks now and we're hoping he's back by the 15th, as my little lady, Bella,  came a little bit early.  Some people would be mad that their husband left during such a time, but I can't help but be proud of what he's doing.  How many others would make this sacrifice?  Before he left, he patted my belly and whispered to his baby, "You stay in there and keep incubating until I come back."  With all of the kicks and pushing in there, I have to keep reminding Baby of their Dad's special request, but we're going to hold off until at least the 15th.  I give kudos to the husband and wives in Iraq and Afghanistan as well as their spouses at home.  It takes a certain person and a strong marriage to work through the distance, and I know how hard it is.  Tim and I were separated for nearly two years before we got married, he in Arizona and I in Minnesota finishing college.  And these two to three week assignments where he leaves home to aid in a larger cause, aren't any easier than before we were married.

So, I guess if I'm going to be an "old married couple", then I take that title proudly if it means I get to have the life that I have now.  I don't get trashed on the weekends or any day of the week for that matter, we simply come home at the end of each day and eat a homemade meal in the late evenings and talk about our day with small chat across the table.  I spend my days running after Gremlins, and change dirty butts for a living, and I answer to "Momma" or "Wifey", as is my title in this job.  When I'm not doing that, I am trying out the whole working thing and in that case I'm still changing dirty butts, I just get paid for it in cash instead of kisses (or smooches as we call them in this house).  My adventures, since children, have consisted of walks to the park and running after Bella in the grocery store as well as battling through church on Sundays. 

On the beaches of Florida, back when it all started.  Newly dating!
March of 2006 (or so)

I spend each night resting my head next to the same man and catch myself praying fervently and frequently that the good Lord holds us together so that when I'm 80 years old, wrinkly, gray and forgetful, I can look over and see him still and be as much in love, if not more, than I am today.  Being married, and living this way is a choice.  I may still get a little tipsy from a glass of wine every now and again, and we may go out on a date and forbid we ever get a little crazy and forget ourselves, but we're still that "old married couple" and darn proud of it.  I'll take this life over the alternative any day!  Cheers to all you old married folk!

The "Old Married Couple" 
The day of Bella's baptism and Tim being confirmed in the Catholic Church,
yet another exciting moment in our lives.  March of 2010

I Blame This One on Pregnancy

Past 5:30PM, Bella gets grumpy and so do I as my patience and energy start to dwindle.  On a normal day, Dad is home to take over and saves the day as he spends the majority of his evening playing with Bella, which I'm so very thankful for.  With Tim out on the east coast aiding the relief effort, I am home wishing the relief effort was aiding me.  Tired of having PB & J's, I decide to cook stir fry and rice with fruit (have to have something Bella will eat included in the meal).  To my surprise she takes a few bites of rice, but then turns back to her normal ways and throws the rest on the floor and at the wall.  I grumble thinking, "I cook good meals, and she doesn't know how good she has it.  There are starving people in China that would kill for what she's depositing on my wood floors!"  Haven't we all heard that one before?  I never thought it would come from me.

7PM hits, I'm grumpier than grumpy and Bella is making my hair curl and my nerves twinge.  "Bella, go grab your shoes and your Blankie, we're going outside!" I say reaching my limit.  If I could walk for a half hour, then when we get home that leaves a half hour of play and then bedtime for her and me shortly there after.  Sounds good, right?  She finds her shoes and her blankie and brings them to me; she's set and ready to go, thankful to get out of the house.  She's been increasingly more grumpy with her side kick, Daddio gone and my heart hurts thinking of how she feels.  With that thought in mind, I decide to find my phone.  Yes, find my phone...  Where is my phone?

I turn to the most guilty party in the house, Bella.  If things have gone missing, it's generally because miss sticky fingers has discovered it and carts it along with her until she finds something more interesting to play with.  "Bella, where's Mommy's phone?  Will you bring Mommy her phone?"  I ask her.  She knows what I'm talking about and starts running around and eventually finds my shoes and starts following me around with them as I search for my phone.  Nearly 10 minutes go by, I'm furious and she's grumpy; she wants to go outside!  "Bella, where is Mommy's phone?"  She, again, runs off in a different direction.  I'm so very frustrated.  She brings me back her orange play phone, and I can't help but smile.  "Yes, good job.  That's a phone, just not the right one."  If Daddy calls while we're out, and I miss it, I'm gonna be upset.

I give up on my search and resort to going out for our walk without it, knowing that when I come back I will track someone down on facebook that can call me and help me look for my stupid phone.  We get a couple hundred feet from the house and my phone starts ringing!  I'll be darned... my chest starts vibrating and I jump.  I quickly pull the phone from my bra, and answer it.  It dawns on me then, that I put it there when Bella wanted to play with it earlier, in an attempt to hide it from her all-seeing eyes!  After I get off the phone I give her lovies and apologize for blaming her.  I felt bad for pinning her to the crime... instead I blame this one on pregnancy.  I joke constantly, saying that when I had Bella, half of my brain cells went to her, and that now, being pregnant again, this baby is working on the other half.  Anyone that has been pregnant before, knows how this feel.  You feel less intelligent, less with it, and just incredibly stupid and forgetful.  If you've only had one baby, try having two... it only gets worse.  :)

So if you're a Mommy or a Mommy-to-Be and an airhead as a result, I post this for you, so that maybe you'll feel a little bit better about your general lack of brain power.  After all, it happens to all of us preggo people!

The True Marks of Beauty

I turn this way, I turn that way, and no matter which way I look, I see... stretch marks! My big 'ol belly is far bigger than it's ever been and the scale has tipped farther than it's ever fallen. UGH! I have never been blessed with a body that took change well. College hit me hard, bad eating habits and even worse physical fitness, the end result +20 pounds. Instead of loosing weight before I got married, the stress took it's toll, another +5 pounds. Moved to Arizona, another +5 pounds. Had a my first child, +10 pounds. Now being pregnant again and due in 5 weeks, we're looking at +25 more pounds, and I'm hoping it's more baby than belly this time. I vow to take a picture of the scale on the day I go into the hospital to give birth, and on the photo write a reminder that I will never see that high of a number again. I realize that when I carry my daughter around the house, the soles of my feet carry over 200 pounds, it's not a wonder why I feel the way I do right now.

The consolation to this dilemma is that I have control over my weight, and when the time comes, I will be running off every pound I've gained. With my future in hand, I plan to run a half marathon in just a year and in two years a full blown marathon. I've talked about running so much that I've put myself on the chopping block. If I don't go through with it, I'd feel pretty dumb; yet another motivating factor for me in taking charge of my physical health and being a good role model for my children.

But the fact remains that even if I loose all of the weight and get physically fit, I will still have to look at these stretch marks! Is it not the biggest complaint of the aging population? "Just look at these marks! Look at these scars, and look at these wrinkles!" No one likes them, but as I think more about the situation, staring in the mirror, and taken aback as to how large they've become, I see a truth and a certain beauty along with the ugliness. Sure, they'll never go away, but they'll fade and get lighter. Each time I look at them or anyone else with matching stretch marks, we'll know we have something in common... the beauty of one of God’s greatest miracles, children.

Each scar, furrow, crows feet, wrinkle and stretch mark has been earned; some not so pleasantly as others. With each laughing moment and joyous occasions, we use 17 muscles in our face that lead to these beauteous crows feet and a whopping 43 muscles with each sorrow (according to the old saying). It’s no wonder that after a person goes through a huge, life changing and challenging event that the individual pulls through, at times, looking much older than before. These fine lines and wrinkles are a reminder to us each day of how much we have lived through and endured in our short time here on earth. 

My Testimonial

So I will try with all of my might as my belly grows for another 4 ½ weeks, to remember that the end result is worth more than a flat, flawless belly (which I didn’t have in the first place). In fact, a few stretch marks and a few hours of intense labor is a small price to pay for these little God-given miracles that I will have running around my house. I have made it a priority to remind those I care for, of the simple beauty of carrying one of these defining marks. That it's a true testament to what we’ve all achieved and gone through so far, and to wear them proudly, for it is part of us!

As the old saying goes...

“It takes 43 muscles to frown and only 17 to smile,

but it doesn't take any to just sit there with a dumb look on your face."

The Curiousity of a Child

An Earwig

From where I sat on the floor, it looked like a large speck of dirt on the floor. Bella, of course, entirely amazed at this find, had to pick it up. She briskly walks over to where I'm seated, her specimen held securely between her delicate little fingers and deposits her new found treasure into my hand. "Thank you!" I say to her without first looking to see what it is.

I gasp, let out a little squeak and quickly drop it. My husband, Tim, at this point is rolling on the floor with laughter. An earwig... really? They are one of the most disgusting looking creatures and I have yet to find God’s purpose for them other than covering my basement floor and eating my fruits, flowers and vegetables. I send a warning glare at Tim and look back at Bella, she's so very proud of her find. I can't help but laugh a little, if there was anything to find on my floor (which there tends to be plenty of), she'll surely find it. There is not one part of this house left unturned or undiscovered in the eyes of Bella. This world is truly her playground and it is ever growing for her.  Later on that week, she gifted her Grandma Frits with a worm (I think), that she had found.  At least she's a giving little girl, never to keep things to or for herself!

Grandma Stangler, Bella and I sat outside of the house this evening, pushing her in the new swing Grandma had spoiled her with. We had hung it in this huge oak tree in the front of our lawn. It’s the perfect spot for a swing with it's huge branches ever spreading and giving ample shade to its visitors. We were enjoying the evening breeze that comes as the day starts cooling off when we discovered this beautiful, yet scary looking creature. Bella, who is always watching, constantly learning and absorbing, quickly discovers what all of the commotion is about.

From her perfect view up high in her chair, she intently points at the creature making it's way up the tree. It was the biggest caterpillar that any of us had ever seen. Measuring a good 3” to 4" and about as round as my pointer finger, it's shear size amazed us. Neon green and quite beautiful, it was no wonder why Bella starts oooing and ahhhing. As my mother and I discuss the possibilities, she starts waving and starting a conversation with the creature, saying "hi", "bye" and just about any other word she knows. While the rest of us were reluctant to get any closer than we needed to, she was determined about getting a closer view.  So Grandma was brave and held her up closer to the trunk of the tree, since her Momma is a big chicken.

I am forever being reminded that this little girl of mine is new to pretty much everything in the world that I have grown accustomed to.  Each bright light, picture, creature and moving thing is new to her.  It's exciting to watch her discover all of the things this world has to offer one little toddler step at a time.  It's unfortunate we loose some of that intense curiosity as we grow older, but raising Bella and spending each day with her is making me appreciate all of those little things a little more, earwigs and all.  For there was once a time in my life, I'm sure, that I was delivering such gifts, and my Mother was the happy recipient. 

I Will Not Eat those, Sam I Am, I Do Not Like Green Eggs and Ham!

SPLAT!!! An egg falls to the floor. Ughhh, I hope this isn’t an indication as to where my day is headed. I look over at Bella, she’s got that mischievous look in her eyes, they’re gleaming really. “Bella, don’t you dare go over there and get into that egg, stay here Love.” She makes a move, I run for it and barely beat her to the punch. With the 409 in hand, I quickly wipe up all that I could of the dismantled egg shell and goopy mess and immediately my toddler decides to inspect the area for any gooey missed parts she could get herself into. I heat my pans, set up all of my supplies and try, and I really mean try, to put a breakfast together. After all, we’re both getting sick of Kicks and Cheerios for breakfast each morning while Dad isn’t here to cook.

By this point, I’ve got my eggs beaten for my French toast, and a batch of scrambled eggs ready to hit the frying pan. I throw the butter in, and it bubbles, sizzles, and throws up a horrendous amount of smoke. I grumble to myself, “Too hot”. I wipe up the burnt butter and let it cool down a bit. Bella is hanging onto my legs, rather pushing at them. She wiggles herself against the counter, pushing her butt up against me, trying to pry me away. “Bella, I’m trying to make breakfast…” I say and she cries. She probably already knows where this is heading. Again I make an attempt at the butter, and again it sizzles, but it doesn’t burn this time. I turn around just in the knick of time and catch my angelic daughter holding the bowl of uncooked scrambled eggs by the very edge, most of the contents already on the floor.

“Bella!” she looks up at me, unsure of whether or not I’m going to be mad. She decides she’s safe and turns the rest of the bowl over and gives it a shake to ensure every bit of slimy mess hits my counters, floors and rug. “Ugh, Bella! Bad! That was very bad!” I spew out, maybe a little louder than I should, now she‘s crying. I hurry, pick up the egg covered rug and pitch it outside for the rain to wash off and I spend the next 10 minutes trying to get the egg off of the floor. It’s at that instant, I see the smoke rumbling from the stove, the butter is surely burnt now. It bellows out and hits even the fire alarm in the hallway on the other side of the house. The alarms go off, and Bella giggles. “Hi!” she says, waving, thinking it’s either a car honking going by or the telephone going off. She’s thinking this is pretty awesome. I just lean against the counter, towel in hand and laugh as breakfast has once again defeated me.

The end result? Well, Bella sat waiting as patiently as a 18 month old can in her highchair, practicing drinking her orange juice out of her cup while I made my second attempt at breakfast. Nearly a dozen eggs later and a stick of butter, we end up with a half decent meal. She gobbled down the French toast, happy, no doubt, she finally gets something other than cold cereal. But most surprisingly, I ended up with a not-so-bad batch of scrambled eggs, which never happens. I can’t say that Bella didn’t even touch them, because she at least picked them up with the tips of her fingers and gave them to me off of her plate as her own little promise that not even after all of that, was she going to eat her eggs. My kitchen’s a mess, and there’s syrup and eggs all over the place, but Bella gets to enjoy a bath now. And for the moment, I am currently vowing to leave breakfast for the Husband for when he’s home, at least until I’ve built up my culinary skills a bit. For now, we’ll stick with cold cereal and fruit.

Watermelon Pickles & Times of Old

Ahhh....  the quietness of early morning and the baby sleeping!  :)  I've been wanting to write for the last two days and have not had a moment to sit, and in any case, what would I write about?  I just figured I'd come up with something in the midst of sitting here while my thoughts pool and my brain is clear.

Randomness...
Have you ever tried a Watermelon Pickle?  Have you even heard of them before?  If you're my age (a ripe 25) you probably haven't; I've just discovered them.  In our house, we try really hard not to waste any food and we recycle enough on most occasions that we could probably do with only having the garbage guys come twice a month and the recycling twice as often.  I'm incredibly compulsive when it comes to organization, to the point that everything in my fridge has a place and a date written on it when it comes in. 

(Picture from http://spiritualknitter.blogspot.com/2010/06/watermelon-pickles.html)
While I was at work a few weeks back, I was visiting with a fine lady in her golden years and she shared her wisdom of Watermelon Pickles.  Sadly enough, I had never heard of these little gems before.  Once again, I find that the years that separate our older generation from me and the others of my age, has deprived me of such joys as Watermelon Pickles.  I spend the majority of my time during the day with people above the age of 70, and luckily, I grew up with older parents.  So I am familiar with many of the things they enjoy talk about.  Canning seems to be a hot topic, along with religion (you'd be amazed at how important this is), hard work ethic, the mending and sewing of cloths, and cooking from scratch.  A special and unprecedented delivery of a warm loaf of zucchini bread, when I have it coming out of my ears, does wonders for the soul of an elderly person as well as for the person delivering it.  I'm not saying I do this often, I should do it more, but when I take the time to put a little more effort in, the joy I get back feels unlike anything else.
Furthermore, the massive amounts of stories, experience and wisdom that flows from these minds is incredible!  I find, sadly, that we as younger Americans are loosing some of the great know-how's of our past.  Canning seems to be a lost art, religion no longer a concern for some/most, "hard" and "work" don't seem to go in the same sentence together (let alone combined), home cooking involves a box of processed noodles and a packet of unidentifiable orange stuff that we call "cheese".  We just simply don't have the time or take the time to sit and absorb all of these precious little things from them.  It's so sad because we all could learn so much.  I often worry that if we ever recessed and became unequipped with all of the modern technology that makes living what it is today, how many of us would survive it and "live"?  (And by "live", I mean the word in reference to one's "quality of life")
The concept that I make all of my own baby food seems bizarre to those of my age, "Who does that?".  Yet when I bring it up to those individuals that are four times my age, it seems a way of life unspoken.  Cloth diapers?  They had nothing else!  I find, on most occasions, I have an easier time expressing my concerns about raising children with the elderly because my views are more similar to theirs than people of my own age. 

Ever since this Watermelon Pickle business, it's got me thinking. How much am I missing out from all of these years that separate me from those who have infinitely more wisdom than I do. We call ourselves a more "independent" nation, we are strong, we are intelligent, we are AMERICANS! Respect us! But yet, think about it, if our economy were to crash, we all lost our jobs, and pretty much everything stopped functioning, even our government, eventually everything else would crumble too. We'd no longer have jobs, no longer have any cash, and besides, what would cash matter, it would have no value at that point. We'd have to fend for ourselves, but how many of us "independent" Americans could actually "live" as we call it, today? I think I'll stick with times of past, continue to learn how to preserve my own food, learning about Watermelon Pickles, make my own bread and diaper my own children for the sake that I can be truly independent.

And for those of you individuals that continue with the ways of the past, good for you! Just don't forget to pass on all that knowledge to those younger than you and to your children, for this knowledge is absolutely priceless and is the cure for ignorance.

Gremlins on the Move

The Gremlin and Me

Today I'm tired, but I guess that's to be expected for a mother of a very independent, stubborn and energetic 1 1/2 year old as well as the fact that I am expecting miracle number two quite soon. It seems surreal to me that I will be a Mommy to another little precious baby in just 5 1/2 weeks. I brought my daughter, Bella, in today for her 18 month physical. We ended up chatting about the trials and tribulations of children that have so much spunk, attitude and free will; enough to go around that's for sure. The advice given to me, I just have to be more stubborn than her; this too shall pass, it's just a phase. I laugh at this, because I can't imagine how my mother raised 10 very stubborn and opinionated children. And from what everyone tells me, my husband, Tim, was a handful too. I guess I have my work cut out for me.

Bella at the park

But as I sit here, with Bella down for a nap finally, (two hours late) I can't help but smile and fight the urge to go in and peek at her cute little face as she sleeps. With her blue eyes closed tight and her blonde hair, curly and mismanaged all around her face, and who can forget how she sleeps, with her tush up in the air and laying on all of her limbs, tucked in a ball, just how I'd imagine her sleeping and her sibling sleeping when they were within me. So cozy, so happy, and really God-given and perfect. She's a handful, but she's mine and I wouldn't change a thing about her. Sometimes I wish I could remind myself of how I feel at this very moment when she decides she doesn't want to eat her dinner and throws it against the wall... yes, if only I could always feel like this. :)

But my children are my everything, and from a very young age I knew I wanted children. People have told me, that they could picture me a mother, and now that I'm on number two, I'm amazed at how much patience one needs to be a Mom. I have to admit, one does not think of these things when you're young, in love, (hopefully married) and so ready to share your love outside of your little bubble with just the two of you. I felt so much love with Tim, that I was ready quite soon to share that with someone else, someone we both could love without limitations or stipulations. And so it's true, that after a better part of the day behind me, with tantrums resembling seizure-like activity, thrown trays of food, sippy cups smashed to the ground for no apparent reason, incessant crying, and 23 lbs of screaming baby hanging on me while I do the dishes; it is by that special love that God instills in parents, that get them through the day and reminds them during the quiet moments just how truly special they are to you.

The little girl that even after a day full of naughtiness, makes my heart absolutely melt!  My precious Isabella Kate!