• I let everyone eat cereal for breakfast
• I finally put the crib mattress pad (that has been sitting in my entry waiting to be delivered to someone who had a baby in October) into the donation bag out on my front porch
• I picked up that washcloth that has been laying on the kitchen floor all week, waiting for the person who left it there to take care of it (it wasn't me)
• I wiped the nasty kitchen counters
• I swept the heavily pine-needled and flaked-off-mud-riddle floor (thank you half-days of school for Ray/his posse)
• I did 3 complete loads of laundry
• I sewed up a hole in Emma's dress that has been in need of sewing since the day after she bought it
• I actually made my own bed
• I picked up a Band-Aid wrapper that had been anxiously waiting for someone to notice it and throw it away
• I threw away a perfectly good zippered pencil case that I have hung onto for 6 months because it just doesn't fit in anyone's binders.  It was a hard choice. 
• I made 1/15 of the invitations I need to make before Sunday
• I settled up last night's concessions cash box
• I thought about how great Nolan did last night
• I made Ray cry when he got home from school because he was 30 minutes late (he stopped at the BMX bike jumps on his way home) and I was worried about him
• I took Madsen swimming
• I was corrected my Madsen when someone asked how old he was and I answered, "almost 3".  Madsen said, "mom.  I'm actually 2."
• I pre-ordered 34 Jamba Juice smoothies for the cast tonight
• I noticed Madsen's swim shirt (that I bought for our cruise) is almost completely threadbare and I will need to buy him another one within the week.  so much for thinking ahead
• I wrote my blog post poolside, with pen and paper
• I took a shower without stepping on any perfection pieces or letters
• I have been hugged at least 6 times by Madsen with the sweet, "mom.  I like you" expressed with each squeeze.
• Make that 7
• I haven't pulled my hair back in a bun yet
• I printed out better signs for the concession stand tonight
• I have pondered a message I noticed on a chiropractic office marquee today:  SITTING IS THE NEW SMOKING
• I was proud of Madsen for experimenting with putting his face deeper and deeper in the water
• I planned a rough menu for our Superbowl Party on Sunday
• I had a Calvin Moment when I heard the song BLESSINGS on the Christian radio station today.  I cried for a moment. 
• I was chastised by Madsen at least 3 times for helping him into his car seat when he specifically told me he didn't want any help
• I recognized the start of "I can do it all by myself" phase
• I was outsmarted by Madsen when I intentionally place 1 cheese cube between 2 apples cubes and he just picked off the first apple, ate the cheese and then stuck the apple back on the toothpick
• I hit the gluten-free wall with Emma, who has started up gluten-free again.  What a pain to try and figure out to make for her to eat
• I was broken-hearted when the bagel I was looking forward to eating when I got home from the pool with Madsen was moldy. 
• I am thrilled with a productive day, but still wishing I could have done more. 
• I am off to see Peter Pan!

Sometime over the last 2 years, I have become a "theater mom" instead of a "soccer mom".  Soccer mom hasn't been completely replaced, but she's definitely taken a back seat.  And I kind of like it.  My kids still play sports, but Emma gave singing/acting a Barry trial run in the fall of 2012 and she fell instantly in love.  It has slowly taken center stage in her life, and she now pretty much sings and dances all day long.  This past fall, she even gave up her freshman volleyball season in exchange for a role in a play.  That was bittersweet for me.

And last summer, she finally convinced Nolan to give it a try in a summer production of THE LADY PIRATES OF CAPTAIN BREE.  I was not sure how I'd feel about seeing my son singing and dancing on stage, but it was the best.  THE BEST.  I loved how much he had learned.  How much discipline it took.  How hard he had worked.  How many new friends he made.  And how much he clearly enjoyed being on-stage.

What surprises me about seeing my kids on-stage is how much I love watching them, no matter what their role is.  I am proud of their bravery at being up on stage, boldly singing and dancing in front of so many people.  I am in awe of their confidence and the fact that they can memorize lines.  I am in love with watching them perform. over and over.  I assumed that I would attend one or maybe two of their performances because I'm not one to watch a movie more than once.  So it really shocked me that I couldn't stay away.  After attending Emma's first opening night performance of Mulan 2 years ago, I went back for the second performance.  and then the 3rd and 4th performances.  And I would have returned over and over again if she was still performing.  Even though it's technically the same show, I still felt the pull to be there for her every show-- just like I'd be there for her if she was playing a volleyball game or badminton game. 

Emma has since performed in 5 plays, impressing more with each performance.  Even though it can definitely get annoying to have her singing and dancing around the house all day (and driving her to dance and voice rehearsals up to 6 days a week at times), I actually really love that she has found her passion.  I couldn't be more thrilled that her choice of music blaring through her earphones mostly consists of Broadway musicals and other classic music.  I think it's awesome that she has encouraged Nolan to try new things and that she has even rubbed off on Elli a little bit (don't tell Elli). 

I'm not sure that Nolan adores being on stage as much as Emma does (not sure anyone can top Emma's love for the theatre arts), but he certainly loved his first experience with it.  Enough to try out and earn a part for his first middle school play.

and tonight is opening night!! I can't wait to see that kid of mine up on stage, decked out in full make-up, dressed up like a bear, and acting his little Lost Boy heart out.  I wish you all could see him!  I know he'll be great.  because my kids never disappoint.

(at least on-stage)

in my mind:

• it's my mid-week reprieve; i'm halfway through another grueling school-week
• only making lunch for 2 kiddos is secretly my favorite Wednesday perk; add to that the tradition of "cold-cereal-in-my-lunchbox Wednesdays" and it's even easier than it sounds
• early release Wednesdays = more time with kids and more help with housework
• Wednesdays are our go-to swim days at the gym
• it's the perfect day to do (child-free)  errands since L and M are the first out of school at 12:06

but in reality:

• it's just a very short pause in between insane Monday/Tuesday and a-little-less-crazy Thursday and Friday
• the time I saved only making 2 lunches is spent cleaning up the messes I still haven't fully cleaned up from making Mondays and Tuesdays lunches
• Ray just told me this morning that he "doesn't like bringing cereal for lunch anymore because it's too messy"
• early release = the kids have more time to complain about what I ask them to do
• I'm so worried about how little child-free time I actually have in the morning that I usually end wasting the entire morning because "kids are going to be home any minute" and I don't have time to really start anything I want to do
• When I leave for child-free errands, I pay for it when I return in the form of a bigger-disaster-than-when-I-left disaster
• Wednesday swim days mean I forget to make dinner (oh wait, that happens every day)

the truth is I still really look forward to Wednesdays; they are a bright spot of hope in my week. 
even when the entire Wednesday is full of reality checks.

and the best part is:  it had absolutely nothing to do with me. 

This was Ray's second Pinewood Derby race; his first win.  We have a pretty small pack this year (only 5 boys), but his car was visibly fast.  It was fun to watch Ray's face as his car was racing (and usually leading most of the race). 

I always give Damon such a hard time about the amount of labor and tedious steps he puts into these cars with the boys, but the truth is:  it secretly thrills me that he has such pride in his work.  even if he has to set his alarm to go off every 2 hours in the middle of the night to put on a fresh coat of paint during the curing process.  and even if it takes up hours and hours of time...just in the thinking and planning and designing stages.  and even if he procrastinates the process.  and even if all the supplies take over my island for several days/weeks.  and even if the tools, scale, specialty items we borrow from our friends/neighbors sit unreturned for months after the pinewood derby.  yes, even then.

because every single car that Damon has created with these boys has been above-and-beyond-awesome.  including this year's very simple, bare bones classic design.

Last year, Ray had an amazing basketball coach.  It was me.  And I'm totally lying about the amazing part.  There's no way around it:  Ray is a natural athlete.  He is good amazing at pretty much anything he does.  And if he's not, it doesn't take him long to get amazing.  He is fast.  super fast.  and very coordinated.  He is strong, and has a well-earned six-pack. 
The kid is always moving, always DOING.  and his head is usually dripping wet. 


On a typical day, his backpack doesn't even make it in the front door.  It's usually on the sidewalk or in the front yard or in the spot where his bicycle used to be.  He is off playing, biking, skate-boarding, climbing,  jumping on the trampoline, running, rigging up tire swings, and recruiting all the neighborhood boys to join forces with him.  from Kindergarteners to 9th-graders.  He keeps up with them all.  I usually don't see him until well after the sun goes down and all the neighbor kids are called home, one by one for dinner. 

So it only shocked me a little bit when, about a month ago, we were playing around.  I was chasing him and trying to get my hands on him to force him still so Madsen could tickle him.  and I couldn't. I could NOT.  I got close several times.  I got my hands on him a few times less than that.  But both times that I thought "I had him", he literally broke free of my grasp- like the Hulk- and even picked me up off the ground- like Superman- when I thought I had him trapped between my legs.

He's stronger than me.  At 9-years-old, he's physically stronger than me.  I knew that would happen...someday.  But now? 

At least I'm still taller than him. 
And (hopefully) the only one of us who actually realizes that he could literally take me down. 
he better not be a problem teenager.

oh boy- am I glad this week is OVER.  so busy and full.  and so little sleep. 
a few of the things I am happy to have OFF my plate this evening as I am relaxing in my bed for the first night in a while:

• baptism fireside we threw together for kids turning 8 this year (turned out great, glad it's over)
• most of the concessions planning/purchasing/coordinating done for Peter Pan play that runs next week.  {Nolan is Cubby, a Lost Boy>>come see him!)
• this week's round of musical performances, basketball games, missionary discussions/dinners/baptisms, presidency meeting, ortho/dr appts, endless Target runs, and so forth
• and, the happiest thing that happened [and the happiest thing to be done preparing for]:  a birthday party that a friend of mine invited me to be a part of (we both have January birthdays, with this year being my 40th and her 50th) that took place last night.  Even though she did 90% of the work/planning (she had to clean HER house; I just made some cupcakes and fruit kabobs [to add to the ridiculous amount of food that she already provided] and put together a silly photo booth), it was still something that added a lot to my plate in an already busy week with an overly tired body and mind.  :)

Okay.  the happiest, happiest part of my week occurred yesterday, roughly 2 1/2 hours before the birthday party was supposed to start.  I was running around my house trying to throw everything together that I was in charge of bringing (still trying to pull off this photo booth idea in my head).  There were lots of last-minute preparations that I was intentionally leaving til the last minute (frosting the cupcakes and assembling the fruit kabobs).  I was feeling OK about the time, but still a little unsure about how it was going to all come together (mostly the photo booth) 

Suddenly, there was a short knock at the door and then 3 lovely ladies appeared in my entryway.  I was headed down the stairs when I saw the first face:  Amanda Fleig.  At first, it seemed totally normal.  After all, she's been letting herself into my house for years.  But it didn't take me long before it registered how special it was that she was standing in my entry because SHE MOVED TO CALIFORNIA 2 YEARS AGO!  So excited to see one of my absolute best friends out of the blue like that!  I don't remember if I screamed or what, but I definitely gave her a huge hug. 






Anyway, after quickly assembling 60 fruit kabobs for me (girlfriends with a purpose rock!) while I gave Damon instructions on everything he would now be doing for the party set-up, these women whisked me away to a favorite Mexican restaurant in Seattle:  Poquitos.  followed by the fabulous party where I got to see more wonderful friends, old and new.  and then a (very quick) night spent at a local hotel with my 2 out-of-town besties.

great conversations, lots of laughter, awesome food, throw in a couple hours of sleep, and it was a weekend to be remembered. 

I am blessed.  usually more than I even realize. 

for blogging from my phone tonight just to say I have a great reason why this will need to count as today's post ...
happy birthday to me!!!

I'm annoyed with myself that this is the subject of my blog post today.  But I can't escape it.  My ridiculous sleep schedule is pretty much killing me right now.  Sure, I have felt exhausted some days, but that is usually followed by going to bed earlier the next night and bouncing back the next day.  One day lost, no biggie.

I feel like I don't have any control over it right now.  It's not "temporary".  As much as I try to "go to bed earlier", it's just not possible to actually fall into a deep enough do-my-body/mind-any-good kind of sleep when there are constant interruptions all through the night/morning. 

Last night was a pretty typical example of how things have been around here lately:

tired all day because I didn't get enough quality sleep the night before
my body is pretty much begging to go to bed by 6 o'clock, but I'm not even close because
1.  I'm not even home
2.  I have to deliver dinner to the missionaries (damon ended up doing this one for me)
3.  I still have presidency meeting which doesn't even start until 7:30

9:30:  home from pres mtg, with several more things added to my to-do list (not complaining here, just noting the snowball effect of my life right now)
all the kids are up, 2 of them aren't even home yet, kitchen is a disaster, and I still can't crawl into bed.

get little kids in bed, request cell phones from girls and plop down in my bed with my laptop to complete a few things while I wait for kids to fall asleep, cell phones to be turned in. 

11:00  cell phones finally all turned in, kids are buckling down, house locked up, I'm feeling like I can responsibly fall asleep at this point.

11:30:  start drifting off
11:45:  Nolan comes in crying because he "can't fall asleep", even though he's clearly been asleep.  He's been starting to get sick and he's a worrier.  He's worried about not being able to fall asleep, he's worried he might have to miss school tomorrow because he's sick, he's worried he won't be able to perform in his play next week...
I think he may have taken a shower in our bathroom to help him calm down and then he went back to bed.
12:15 drifting off again
12:45 Elli bursts into our room and demands something incoherent.  She says something about Emma still being up downstairs.  Ugh.  I march downstairs to tell Emma to go to bed, but she is already in bed.  Turn off all lights again.  Go check on Elli, already back asleep.  Chalk the strange happenings up to Elli sleepwalking.
try to go back to sleep
1:45  Nolan brings Madsen in our room to go to the bathroom
2:30  Nolan comes back in our room in tears because Madsen won't leave him alone and he's so tired.  I send him downstairs to go to sleep.  go in and put Madsen back to bed.
3:15  Madsen comes into my room looking for Nolan; he's very alert.  I think he's actually been awake this entire time.  I take him to the bathroom again and put him back to bed.
lay awake for probably about an hour thinking about all the things I need to do tomorrow (today) and how tired i'm going to be...again
5:15 my alarm goes off. 
today is a quick morning:  all I have to do is wake Elli and Emma up to get ready for seminary, make Nolan's lunch (Ray is buying, girls have 1/2 day due to finals), make breakfast and then I can go back to bed for a bit because Elli will be driving my car to seminary.  I set Nolan's alarm to 6:55 for him and then go back to bed.  It's only 5:40 and I should be able to "sleep" until 6:55 when Nolan will get up and start asking me questions.  I remember some things that need to happen so I text damon (who's in the shower) and ask him to wake Ray up at 6:40 because he needs to finish his homework and explain to him where all the kids are sleeping.  and PLEASE don't wake madsen up!
I lay back down.  Elli and Emma are in and out of my room, turning lights on, scavenging my closet for clothes that are easily visible because they're hanging up (what a concept!).  They finally leave for seminary about 6:10.  sigh. 
6:15  madsen starts crying because he can't find Nolan OR Ray.  I take him back to his room and show him where Ray is sleeping (on the floor under a pile of blankets).  Ray wakes up and cuddles madsen into him.
I go back to bed. 
then a text from Emma letting me know Nolan is in her bed now since she's at seminary
then Nolan is awake and not feeling well, wants to shower in my shower again. is worried about school
damon asks me a question about emma? 
madsen wakes up
damon leaves
Nolan asks me to call into school and let them know he won't be there for a couple hours because he doesn't feel well (he HAS to be in 3rd period)
elli texts me from school, needs me to excuse her from school because she needs to drive home and grab something.
ray leaves for school.
it's 8:30 now.  I've been in my bed since 5:40, but haven't felt like I've actually fallen asleep yet.  and yet, I've wasted 3 hours TRYING to sleep. 
9:30  Nolan has left for school by now, elli is home briefly, and madsen is shoving a marble inside my mouth.  I decide to get up and "start my day"

I want to cry right now.  I'm so tired, yet I have so much I need to get done.  I can't quite focus enough to be productive with my "to do" list, but there isn't really an option to get the depth of sleep that I need either.  so I kind of just [barely] go through the motions enough to (sometimes) keep my family fed and have enough clean underwear and socks. 

I can't be creative when I'm this tired.  I can't be productive when I'm this tired.  I don't want to do anything except the absolute bare minimum when I'm this tired. 

this is pretty much the season of my life:  I am either TRYING to fall asleep or WISHING I was asleep.  BUT I see nothing changing in my immediate future.  I don't know how to get any better quality sleep.  I'm totally stumped.

and tired.  oh, so tired.

but it still astounds me that the probability of something making into Elli's dirty clothes baskets is quite low.  One would think that with the number of dirty clothes hampers currently available to her, strategically placed throughout her room (none of them actually belonging to her, doesn't stop her from taking them), that the likelihood of any of her ridiculous amount of clothing pieces making it into a laundry hamper would be in her favor. 

it is not.

Exhibit A:
 Exhibit B:



Exhibit C:




The full appreciation picture:

The imagery in my mind of those awful moments.causes a physical reaction in my body.  It's a reaction that rivals what my body does when I see pictures of my dad's body inside his casket.  I can literally feel a sickness in my stomach that moves down my body with an achiness.  It's a memory that I have tried to suppress ever since it happened.  As I've been thinking about this part of Madsen's story that I've wanted to write down these past few days, my immediate reaction is to shove it back where it's been hidden for the last 2 1/2 years. 

I wished that the decision hadn't come down to me.  I wished that my pediatrician or the breastfeeding guru lady would have told me that it's what needed to happen if I ever wanted my baby to be able to breastfeed.  But all they said was it may or may not work.  In fact, it could cause problems down the road with speech due to scar tissue build up under the tongue.  I hate those decisions that need to be made that are completely up to me.  Like I could actually make the wrong decision for my son.  It weighed on me for weeks, but I finally made the decision to go ahead and have the frenectomy done.  [Oh man I just had to go look up the actual term for what the procedure was called and all the descriptions make me cringe all over again.]

I tried to be stoic about it.  I tried to view it like I do immunizations:  sad, but ultimately necessary.  The truth is immunizations stress me out, too.  The nurses actually asked me to leave the room when Elli got some of her initial immunizations because I was such a baby.  Knowing that you will be inflicting pain on your child--who innocently has no idea-- is a pretty heavy feeling.  I tried to gear up for it.  They warned me that it would be hard.  It was quick, but the immediate reaction in the form of a startling cry from my not-quite 7-week-old broke my heart. 

broke.
my.
heart.
[The tears are welling up right now just remembering it]

Oh my gosh.  It was the worst sound ever.  the most helpless feeling ever.  the worst parenting moment ever.  my baby was crying an unstoppable shrieking cry because of something I essentially did to him.  And, like a slap in the face, I couldn't nurse him to calm him down.  I was pretty much a stranger in the room, holding a baby that couldn't be comforted by his own mother.  I'm not sure there is a worse feeling than that as a parent; if there is, I haven't experienced it yet. 

Thankfully, the crying didn't last too terribly long.  The repeated gasping-for-breath-sobs continued for several hours.  The miserable frown would appear almost instantly whenever he tried to suck, as his tongue was healing from the trauma for days. 

And the sound of that initial scream of pain recognition has forever haunted me. 

The awful news was that I didn't know immediately or even for weeks if the decision I'd made was the right one.  Because things didn't miraculously change.  He was still a poor nurser.  He was still barely maintaining his weight.  We were still living in 3-hour increments.  Things had improved in that we moved from the 2-hour syringe finger-feeder to an actual bottle (another decision that weighed on me because it felt like we were moving in the wrong direction), that took only 30-40 minutes to feed him.  I had a little bit of my life back.  I was dealing a little better.  I had found a bit of a rhythm again in the chaos of my life. 

And then- seemingly out of nowhere- the miracle happened:  we went on a week-long camping trip (that I was dreading because of the whole pumping/bottle feeding thing that would surely ruin my camping trip).  I really didn't want to have to go sit in a hot car and pump for 45 minutes every 3 hours so I kept putting it off and just kept trying to nurse and sticking with it, no matter how long it took and how much it hurt.  And suddenly the most important thing in the world- and all I seemed to have time for- was sitting in a camping chair and nursing my baby.  I didn't have to make dinner for anyone.  I didn't have to drive anyone to any appointments or practices.  I didn't have to be anywhere but right there in my (back-breaking) camping chair, feeding my baby.  without any external help.  It actually took me a few days to realize that I hadn't pumped at all and that we were surviving just fine.  It was working.  for both of us.  And, although, it had seemed like FOREVER in my book, it had "only" taken 3 very long months.

Madsen became a champion nurser that summer, and I'm pretty sure I never used a bottle again after that July camping trip.  I breastfed him the longest of all my babies, clear up until 17 months.  partly due to feeling like I was making up for lost time and partly due to having a suspicion he'd be my last baby.

I'm not sure that I've ever been more proud of a single accomplishment in my life.  I was more proud of myself, of us,  for being successful in this one simple thing than I was for graduating from college.  It was the best feeling ever. 

For me, having and adjusting to a new baby has always been relatively painless.  I usually love (almost) every minute of it.  It was definitely new to not be loving this experience.  That, combined with the rigorous pumping/feeding schedule I was forced to live by, essentially set the tone to stop blogging and documenting my family's stories.  By the time things had turned around for us, I felt like I was playing catch-up for a good while.  And by the time I was "caught up" (haha.  does that actually ever happen?), I just wanted to chill.  and enjoy.

And, oh yeah, another first for me:  Madsen didn't nap.  or seem to need sleep period. 

Knowing that Madsen's birth was a planned C-section, I had fears that there would be issues with our initial bonding and breastfeeding.  So that's probably exactly why we had breastfeeding issues. 
As much as I feared the possibility, I still was not prepared for it.  I had never experienced any feeding difficulties with any of my babies.  Even though I knew logically it wasn't my "fault", I still took it personally.  I remember even being embarrassed about it, like it was because I couldn't figure it out or something.  I often over-explained to people that I had done this many times before-- with no problems whatsoever.

Recovering from a C-section and then having feeding issues on top of that (throw in a little post-partum depression while you're at it) was HARD.  Hard like I've never experienced after having a baby.  I usually LOVE those first few weeks with a new baby to love and take care of, but this was a new reality for me.  I was used to reading a book and relaxing while my baby nursed.  I was used to "taking it easy" and resting on the same schedule as my newborn.  I was used to cuddling with my baby and falling asleep with my baby and just honestly enjoying the newborn stage.  I felt robbed.  First, Calvin dies, and then my next experience with a baby was this?

If I'd had any idea how long that struggle would last just to simply breastfeed my baby, I probably would have given up within a week or two of giving birth.  Luckily for me, I just kept getting through one more day, thinking that next feed would be successful. 

It wasn't. 
It hurt.  There was tremendous pain.  physical and emotional.

I cried. a lot.  I was frustrated.  I'm ashamed to admit that I was even a little frustrated at times with sweet Madsen.  The schedule I maintained was ridiculous:  pumping for 45 minutes (holed away in a room somewhere, probably in tears), then feeding Madsen with a tiny syringe full of breast milk that was attached to a very small tube that was then taped to my finger for him to learn to suck on.  This feeding process took well over an hour each time, often closer to 2 hours.  By the time I was done feeding him, and had everything all washed out, and the baby rocked to sleep, it was literally time to start pumping again.  more tears.  This was the hardest in the middle of the night.  I could no longer just lay in bed next to my baby while he nursed.  I had to be fully awake to pump and then feed Madsen with my finger and the syringe.  Often, I would fall asleep during the process and wake up with milk all over both of us.  what a waste.

I called my sister Staci (who experienced something similar with one of her children)  a lot during those hard weeks and months.  She gave me hope to keep going, that it would be worth it. 
Madsen barely hung in there with his weight.  We were at the pediatrician twice a week for weight checks and also seeing a feeding therapist (weekly) and a renowned breastfeeding specialist (every couple weeks), as well as a few consultations with the breastfeeding clinic at the hospital.  Every one I saw told me I was doing everything right, I was "a natural", things would improve, I just needed to give it time.  I went to every single one of those appointments with so much hope that THIS would be the appointment when something would be discovered, something we could change.  But I left every one of those appointments deflated, usually sitting in my car for a good 10 or 20 minutes sobbing.

If ever there was a time in my life when I was in survival mode, it was during these months.  I could only see my life in 3-hour increments.  A few distinct memories from this time were of the first time I went to church after Madsen was born. I went  into the nursing lounge to change a diaper and I was overcome with this feeling that I didn't "belong" in there.  Ugh.  That hurt.  Nobody did or said anything to make me feel that way, it was just my own judgments of myself.  But seeing people nursing their babies became to me like seeing a pregnant woman right after Calvin died.  It was nearly unbearable. 

Another memory I have from that time was when someone thought they were being helpful when they commented on how cool this new "modern feeding apparatus" was that we were able to feed Madsen with.  How handy that must be to have everyone be able to feed him!  um, no.  I know it was a genuine observation, but it made me even more self-conscious than I already was.
I was tethered to the house.  I literally had to pump every 3 hours, and pumping isn't really conducive to pretty much any environment... other than being locked away in your room.  I had to time things just right, and I felt incredibly guilty if I missed a pumping session.

It didn't take long for me to realize that I could leave the house WITHOUT my baby with me...because he didn't NEED me.  Technically anyone could feed him since there was always at least one feed ahead in the fridge.  This was bittersweet for me.  A little sweet because I'd never experienced freedom like this with a new baby, but mostly bitter because my baby didn't need me.

There were several theories about why Madsen couldn't nurse: 

• the roof of his mouth was too shallow
• he was born (2 days) premature (I hated when people used this as a reason)
• he could be tongue-tied
• his jaw was too small

We investigated all of them extensively, with the greatest hope being that he would just outgrow it and one day he would just nurse.  All of these appointments seemed more like therapy for me to just hang in there than they were to actually do anything for Madsen. 

**Well, seeing as how this is just the "back story" to what I was intending to document today, I think I'll drag this out until tomorrow. 

Something I really love is that Madsen adores Nolan.  I love the way he says, "Nolan! Look" when he's excited about something.  I love the way he asks Nolan for help when he needs something.  I love the way Nolan (usually) immediately responds to Madsen's requests for help and how excited he'll be for whatever Madsen wants him to look at.  I love Nolan's laugh when Madsen says something really random or funny or sassy.  I love when Madsen picks up on the fact that Nolan thinks he's funny and then repeats whatever he just did that made Nolan laugh in the first place.  I love that one of Nolan's favorite phrases is "Nolan is awesome" and that he has taught that to Madsen.  I love that Madsen asked Nolan the other day, "Nolan, are you awesome?"  and then followed it up with, "Nolan, are Madsen awesome, too?"
There is something special about their relationship.  Maybe Nolan feels a little something "extra" for Madsen because he's so proud to share his birthday with him.  Maybe it's all the years difference in their ages (9 years).  Maybe it's just because Nolan is a genuinely awesome kid.
But what I truly, truly love about the way these 2 boys have bonded is that Madsen ends up sleeping in Nolan's bed every night.  It is the cutest thing ever.  It doesn't matter whose bed Nolan is in, Madsen will find that warm 11-year-old body that he loves to cuddle with and scoot himself right next to him.  Madsen is practically on top of Nolan every single morning when I go in to wake Nolan up for school. 
The last month or so, Madsen has been getting up in the middle of the night either because he's sick or needs to go to the bathroom.  His faithful brother, Nolan, is always the one who happily carries him on his hip down to my room to let me know Madsen needs something.  There has not been a night that has gone by where I haven't smiled at their sleeping arrangements. 


Last night, Nolan fell asleep downstairs watching a show with Emma.  About 2 o'clock, I heard Madsen's little twist/twist/twist on our doorknob trying to get our door open.  I quickly jumped up and opened the door for him, scooped him up and started to bring him into our bed with us, assuming that's what he was wanting since he's been congested.  But as soon as I picked him up, he said, "mom?  Where's Nolan?  Nolan's not in his bed.  I want Nolan." 
My heart only hurt a teeny tiny bit that he wanted Nolan instead of me, but it didn't take long for me to break into that smile I always feel at their brotherly bond.

"We're" going to the Super Bowl! 
pretty exciting stuff.  it possibly could have been even more exciting if we had some sort of cable package that allowed us to actually WATCH the game, instead of listening to it old-school style over the internet (Nolan could hardly stand/comprehend not being able to watch it, even though we could listen to it).





I have to admit it's pretty awesome to have a boy old enough to be at least interested in a sports game.  Nolan was totally into it, explaining the rules and players' stats and all kinds of info that I have no idea how he knew (internet at his fingertips).  He was even wearing his QB shirt.  It's so fun to be connected to a major sports event with your "home" team.  It was cool to see our "backyard neighbors" jumping up and down through their window every time the Seahawks scored, albeit a tad creepy on our part. 
And Elli totally scored with her jersey # she chose when she (blindly) bought her Seahawks spirit wear on Thursday night since it was the player that made the 49-ers last-ditch effort for a touchdown incomplete (and Seahawks #25 is now an internet sensation with his ridiculous post-game interview/rant).  haha
Anyway, we are super excited for the big game in 2 weeks and are proud to be from Seattle. 


These are some of the metal pieces I was working on yesterday.  I super duper love them. 





Any other ideas for what I could do with these Mickey washer charms/pieces that would be cool/useful for a boy (aged  12-17)? 

Ray has been making these things non-stop since about 5 o'clock today.  He just came in to show me the NECKLACE he made.  He's totally going to be setting trends on our cruise.  haha 


At this rate, I'm going to run out of supplies before I've made anything for anyone else.

and I'm not sure why.
Some years it's been painfully obvious why I've had a good cry on my birthday, but other years it baffles me.  It's not like I have huge expectations for my birthday.  I really don't.  I don't expect or even want any gifts.  I feel like I have (very intentionally) set my expectations pretty low for my birthdays.  not because I'm a martyr or because I don't feel like I'm worth celebrating, but I guess because I'd rather be happily surprised by any mention of my birthday than be depressingly disappointed that nothing went the way I imagined it would.
I pretty sure I'm not bothered by turning forty.  I don't mind getting older; there's not really anything I wished I'd done differently at this point in my life. There isn't a single thing I can think of that I expected and didn't get.  In fact, I was pretty touched when I woke up this morning to a clean kitchen a note on the counter that said, "Happy Birthday Mom! Love, Nolan and Madsen".
And Damon did exactly what I told him I wanted:  he took the 3 boys swimming and to hang out at a Microsoft office for the afternoon while I got some stuff done around the house.  It was pretty awesome to watch almost an entire season of CAKE BOSS while I worked on some more gifts for our cruise buddies.  Lots of FB birthday wishes, several texts and phone calls.  And a couple of my best friends brought over a very thoughtful blast from the 1974-past. 
Things were going just fine right up until I called The Melting Pot (on our way there) and asked if they accepted reservations.  Well, not only do they ACCEPT them, they pretty much require them because the soonest they could get us seated was about 5 hours later.  And that made me cry. 
What?
Who am I?
What is wrong with me?
I felt bad for Damon.  I could sense he was thinking something was his fault.  I tried to shake it off. I was partly successful.  We switched gears and ended up at another restaurant we don't go to very often:  McCormick and Schmick's.  I like that place.
And everything was fine...right up until I started crying again.  This time, because Damon told me he thought I bought too much candy and kept it around the house in large quantities.  um, OK.
At that point, I'm continuing to cry because I'm trying so hard NOT to cry because I feel like a total loser crying in a restaurant. 
Do you follow?

And now I've spent the last hour in the bath getting control of myself and trying to figure out what in the world happened today that is even remotely upsetting enough to cry over. 
pretty much nothing is the answer I came up with. 
which of course made me cry a bit more.  because why AM I CRYING OVER NOTHING?  Am I ungrateful?  Am I a diva?  Am I difficult to please?  Am I really a martyr?  (please tell me no)

The only thing that kept coming up for me is this:
I want to feel like the things I do (on a daily basis) are noticed and matter.  I don't want to have to point them out to anyone.  I don't want to ask anyone to make me breakfast even though I make breakfast for everyone else almost every morning.  I don't want to have to ask anyone to do the laundry even though it's laundry day and the baskets are overflowing.  I don't want to ask anyone to clean up the kitchen or sweep and mop the floors that are desperate for attention.  I feel like a jerk when I have to ask someone to do those things that are so obviously in need of being done today.  I feel like a gift I give myself is that I'm NOT going to do all of these things today; I'm going to "take the day off".  But all that really means is that I've doubled my work for tomorrow (or tripled it for Monday since tomorrow is the Sabbath). 
So all of those thoughts are building up inside me and BAM!  I start to feel resentful.  and then BAM! BAM!  I start to feel guilty for feeling resentful. 
and the littlest thing can start the flow of tears. 
and before I know it, I've actually ruined a perfectly good birthday.
again.

it's after midnight.  woops.
It's my birthday eve (if we're not not being literal with the time), and I'm doing exactly what I want to be doing right now:  staying up late and creating; and not what I should be doing right now:  cleaning the kitchen.  and I guess I lost major track of time (and possibly forgot I was supposed to even be blogging in the first place).

here's what I'm working on and trying to get just right for the tween girls in our cruise gift exchange group:


I am using black Sculpey clay and cutting out a circle (with a punched out paper circle that I cut around with a razor blade) and then creating a Mickey Mouse head using 2 different sizes of straws to punch through the clay.  Then I used a metal alphabet set to stamp the name of the ship (Wonder) and the year.  I baked it and painted over the entire thing with blue acrylic paint and then wiped it off (leaved blue inside the stamped letters/numbers and blue-ish tint all over).  Emma created the band out of blue (glow-in-the-dark) rubber bands. 

I actually think it's pretty cool.  especially considering how much I'm winging it. 

but really it's just cool to be up later than everybody and have the best excuse in the world to be avoiding my real responsibilities.  When I reminded Elli it was "my birthday tomorrow" earlier today she told me she already knew...because she got a Facebook notification about it.  so i'm totally going to be taken care of tomorrow.  I just know it.  haha. 

happy birthday to me!

I actually started my post pretty early in the day, but then I got sucked into (learning and) playing THE FARMING GAME with the boys.  It was our first time playing it (Christmas gift), and it was super fun.  Of course, I won.

Since it is so late, I'm switching gears and blogging about something else that is exciting around these parts:  the Seattle Seahawks!  While we like to watch the Super Bowl (mostly for the fun food), we aren't really big fans of any one particular team.  So it's kind of exciting to have a home team to root for this far into the playoffs.  Seahawk pride is popping up everywhere.

including in our own house. 

Two of my kids are earning extra credit tomorrow for wearing Seahawk spirit wear (which they just went out and paid top dollar for tonight).





the funny thing is nobody knows who WILSON or SHERMAN are. 
thank goodness for the internet so they can look up who "their favorite player" is.

Go SEAHAWKS!

I learned how to make a bow-tie today.  Pretty proud of myself for breaking out my dusty sewing machine and attempting to sew something I've never done before.  It's not very difficult to locate and print a pattern/directions off the internet for basically anything you'd want to make, but it IS difficult to force yourself into a dreaded fabric store (does anyone hate JoAnn's as much as I do?) and actually commit to buying fabric to try something that has a pretty good chance of just being a huge waste of money. 

I had the idea of possibly making bow-ties out of some cool mickey mouse print for the 7 men I committed to make/buy gifts for with our gift exchange (Staci- do you know where I could find a cool mickey mouse print small enough to do this?), but I wanted to try the pattern out to see if it looked OK before I jumped into that larger commitment.  I started by making a bow-tie for Nolan.  Ray was relieved it was for Nolan, because he "didn't want to have to wear it". 

not exactly the reaction I was hoping for, but whatever. 

Well, I actually think it's pretty cool.  I modeled it myself because Nolan wasn't home to appreciate it yet.

Sunday night, Damon and I accompanied Nolan to a special meeting for soon-to-be-priesthood-holders. I have to admit I wasn't really looking forward to going to any type of meeting that day, given how much my back had been hurting combined with the fact that it was a priesthood meeting.  But it was actually a pretty fabulous meeting.  I walked away with a renewed appreciation for the Young Men's program in our church and also with an excitement I never thought I'd feel for my son to receive the Priesthood. 
Something that struck me at the meeting was that one of the speakers said when he got his mission call overseas that a good friend of his (who wasn't LDS) thought it was wrong to be sent so far away to serve the Lord when people needed to be served and taught the gospel of Jesus Christ right where he already lived.  He then related that to the importance of serving our families, mothers, fathers, friends, quorum members, and ward members; that the most important work we will do is right here. 
I have such confidence in Nolan and his ability to serve.  He is awesome at recognizing others' needs and at seeking the Spirit.  He will be such a great priesthood leader.  I loved getting a glimpse of his excitement for this next step in his life. 
Staci's boys' letters from their missions have really opened my eyes to the joys of having a missionary.  I have always thought that I'd dread that part of my life when it arrived:  sending a child into the mission field, but the excitement and honor that pour out of her sons' letters is palpable.  It has gotten me so excited to have a missionary from our own home.  Going to the priesthood preview meeting on Sunday was another building block of that excitement level. 
After the meeting when we went out to the car, Nolan waited for me to arrive at the passenger side of the car and then opened my door and helped me in.  I loved that moment!
I am nervous for my adorable, innocent boy to grow up, but I know that he is going to be such an awesome example to me and his friends and those he serves.  I look forward to the day when he holds the priesthood and uses it worthily.

I have liked Elli every single day this year.  every single one. Don't let the fact that we're not quite through week two yet fool you into thinking this isn't a major feat.

I can't say the same for the year 2013.  2013 wasn't her year.  It wasn't our year.  For a multitude of reasons.

But 2014 is a new year.  And 2014 Elli is pretty amazing.  She has handled herself with a level of maturity I've never seen in her before.  She seems to really be living life intentionally instead of in  24/7 crisis mode.



In 2014:
She is happy
She gives me hugs
She says thank you
She makes her own lunch
And her siblings' lunches
She is patient
She is kind
She tells me she loves me before she walks out the door.
She has a smile on her face
She asks for my advice
She listens to me
She does her homework at the kitchen island (instead of holed away up in her room)
She discusses things instead of arguing
She accepts responsibility
She does things the first time I ask them of her
She gets a head start on her homework earlier in the evening/weekend
She talks to me


In 2013:
She wasn't
She didn't

I missed her a lot in 2013.  It was a hard year for my relationship with her (stupid boys). 
I am so proud of who she wants to be and who she IS right now.  I hope I can be whoever she needs me to be for her to continue the awesome life she has created for herself in 2014.

I had a lot of ideas running through my head this morning.  Some days I'm totally at a loss for any inspiration for a blog post; other days I can't decide which direction to go because there were so many little thoughts or realizations I had throughout the day that I wanted to expand on later.  Today was one of those days where there weren't any necessarily significant events or happenings, but there were several little things throughout the day that caused me thought.

The first thing that caused me to pause was that I woke up with a horrible backache.  It's not unusual for me to wake with a backache, but it is unusual for the pain to still be there hours after I wake up.  which is what happened today.  By the time I was driving to church (before 9 am), I was in enough discomfort that I was emotional about it.  The pain wasn't excruciating enough to cry over in itself, but the flashback to 2009 (blogging/backache/gall bladder removal) was enough to make me fear the weeklong backache that led to emergency gall bladder removal.  I was feeling pretty sorry for myself; feeling like I didn't have time to have a backache that lasted for an entire week (or longer) and really annoyed that it had been affecting my already limited sleep time (the past couple nights the pain in my back has woken me up and kept me up for significant amounts of time).  Back pain scares me.  It feels like a lifelong issue, and I don't want to be one of "those people" that is cursed with chronic pain.  Ugh. 
I was in enough visible pain during sacrament meeting that a friend of mine offered me a pain reliever that she assured me would take my pain away without making me drowsy.  I happily, if not a bit reluctantly, accepted.  It was during senior primary sharing time, while I was conducting that I suddenly felt the fuzziness wash over my entire body.  My reflexes slowed and my words became funny.  I made it through the rest of church, but had Elli drive us home. 
I gave the kids strict instructions when we got home that I was going to bed and did not want anyone to interrupt me while I tried to sleep (I think they hear that speech at least once a week).  I put my eye mask on, turned on my loud fan for white noise, and laid on my back with a hard plastic egg-shaped toy under the most painful part of my back. 
and I was off to la-la land. 
oh man.  I'd forgotten the loveliness of drugs that wash out pain.  the best.  I slept for several hours before I had to wake up to make dinner.  The best part was when I came out of my room and I heard Ray say, "Wait.  I didn't know mom was home." 
mission accomplished.

It was about an hour later when I was cautiously busy in the kitchen, the pain in my back still present but the fuzziness of the drugs still faintly distracting me from the pain, that I had the thought that the back ache had been a blessing:  an unexpected yet welcome way to bank some extra sleep. 

{smile.}

this was the first of my blog post directions; the rest of them have been lost in fuzzy land.
some notes to possible jog my memory tomorrow:
*documenting the ways I notice God's hand in my life
*priesthood preview, Nolan challenge accepted, car door
*count your many blessings>>load
*elli HW at island

Let's be honest.  We are going on a cruise in a few weeks. 
A Disney cruise. 
I can hardly contain my excitement.  Or my planning and list-making and re-planning and budgeting and re-budgeting instincts.  It is consuming me.  In the very best possible ways.  But I'm having a hard time focusing on what I actually want to be documenting and blogging about because all I want to do right now is plan and dream and immerse myself in this once-in-a-lifetime vacation we are about to experience. 
I have spent months secretly preparing and reading up on all things Disney-cruise-related.  Damon and I booked this back in March, but the kids didn't know until Christmas.  Now that our secret is out and I can talk about things and plan things openly, I am in heaven. 
One of the many things that I'm super excited about participating in is an anonymous gift exchange of sorts.  It's something that was initiated, unofficially, through a cruise-meet forum.  There is a list of families that are participating (currently there are 10 families in our group), with names and ages for each person (a total of 32 people, including our family of 7).  None of us know each other.  We  are from all over and the only thing we really know about each other (other than ages and names) is that we are booked on the same cruise. 
We have basically committed to give a gift (think souvenir) to each of these families or individuals sometime over the length of our cruise.  Each of us will hang a special bag outside our cabin door and that's where these gifts are to be left.  So throughout the cruise, we will receive random gifts and surprises (at least 9 times since there are 9 other families signed up).  How fun is that? 
I have been researching and scouring pinterest and the internet for fun, useful, cost effective and personalized items that we can give to others.  I am a firm believer in not giving a gift that doesn't have a purpose.  It has been hard to come up with gifts for adults and teens and tweens and younger kids without spending a ton and without taking up a large amount of luggage space, but today I made a ton of progress and actually decided what I was going to do and bought some supplies.  I haven't made anything yet so no pictures, but I am just sitting here typing with a huge smile on my face because I'm so excited about the things I'm going to make and give.  I can't wait to get some of them done so I can post pictures.  The only group that I'm still super stumped on is the adult men.  There are 7 of them in our group right now.  I haven't thought of anything that I'm super excited to give that would be useful and inexpensive and personalized in some way.  Any ideas?
Off so make more lists!

I need more of it.
And I am starting to realize (and possibly accept) that it may never happen.  I naively thought that  the end of nursing babies equaled more productive sleep patterns and hours.  Now that I have teenagers AND a toddler, I am realizing that there just isn't an 8-hour block (or 6 or even 5) that is available to me to just sleep.
uninterrupted.
solidly.
nobody "needing" me.
nobody thinking that just because they only need to ask a question means that it doesn't require me to fully wake up to answer a question.

that pretty much never happens. 

On a good day, I am tired.
On an average day, I am really tired.
On a bad day, I am disfunctionally tired.

I hate being tired all the time.  But I truly can't function on 4-5 hours of sleep.  And getting 4-5 hours of sleep overnight and then trying to make up for lost sleep for a couple hours during the day just isn't the same.  Sometimes I feel like I'm wasting my life away not feeling energetic enough to get out and do something.  Other times, I am convinced that there is nothing more in this world that I want or need, other than a predictable good solid night's sleep.

Sometimes when I am trying to make up for a particularly bad night, I fall asleep while Madsen is playing independently in the same room as me.  Today when I finally convinced myself to get out of bed and shower, I was surrounded by Perfection pieces
and my Phoenix Suns fleece blanket that isn't usually in my room
and Mickey Mouse
and a Silly Putty blob on my shirt
and a smoothie near my head (with a lid, thankfully)
and a couple board games
and, of course, lots and lots of letters. 

and Madsen was nowhere in sight (he was off playing downstairs).

The other morning, Madsen took this picture of me in his bed with my phone, snuggled up with Nolan's heated blanket and Madsen's Thomas pillow pet that he brought me:

One of Madsen's very favorite things is watching videos on our phones...of himself.

He loves to scroll through my camera roll and find all the pictures with "triangles", AKA a play button.  He repeats everything he is saying/doing/singing in the video while he is watching it; he even {fake} laughs right before he does something he knows is going to be funny.  He could do this for hours if I let him.  There are some specific ones that he is drawn to that he seeks out and watches over and over.  He cracks me up.

Have a peek.


hopefully these videos both work.  I'm too tired to comment further or troubleshoot.  Good night!

Ray has stayed home sick from school the last 2 days.  Because he has been legitimately sick (and not home bouncing off the walls), he has been extra pleasant.  I even got to take a much-needed (and appreciated) nap this morning while he hung out with Madsen watching Netflix.  Not only did I sleep for a solid 2 hours, but when I went downstairs the kitchen and living area were clean. 
I was completely blown away.  It caught me completely off-guard and I actually teared up a bit.  This is the kid that complains almost as much as Elli does when I ask him to pick a wrapper off the floor (that he put there) and put it in the garbage.  When I asked him why he cleaned the kitchen, he just shrugged his shoulders, smiled and looked away while he shoved his hands in his pockets in the cute way he does, gave a little laugh, and simply said, "Cuz.  I just wanted to do it for you." 
heart melted.



Now, several hours later, it has been proven that he is up for school tomorrow. 

impressive thing #1:  I went to the gym
impressive thing #2:  I created a scrapbook layout using all pictures I took on my cell phone (and uploaded to my skydrive!)
impressive thing #3:  I'm blogging about it.

ugh.  Christmas Break is over.  It's back to the grind tomorrow.  Things I'm not looking forward to:

• waking up at 5:20 am again
• making 5 lunches to go every morning
• deciding what to make for breakfast again
• cleaning up the kitchen/living room that has become a special disaster over the last 48 hours
• Monday laundry
• potentially having a sick kid (or 2) home tomorrow (Ray/Madsen)
• cranky, sleep-deprived kids; particularly cranky, sleep-deprived {angry} teenagers
• an iced-over car to defrost
• losing my "free time" from 10 pm to 1 am that I've been taking advantage of the past couple weeks
• kids being stressed about homework/schoolwork again
• figuring out a menu and going grocery shopping
• Monday.

on the flip side, things I might be looking forward to tomorrow:

• the dreamy possibility of taking a nap after I've gotten the last kid out the door at 8
• having my house clean for more than 15 minutes at a time
• taking the time to create the scrapbook layouts I've been wanting to do since yesterday
• media-free school week.  hallelujah. 
• earlier bedtimes again

OK  I think that's all that's in me tonight.  Good night.  Here's to a productive week!

Getting back into the swing of blogging and documenting my life has been both challenging and super rewarding at the same time.  Challenging because I feel like I'm starting from (less than) scratch.  My technical knowledge was pretty limited to begin with even when I was a daily blogger, but I feel like the only thing that comes naturally for me at this point is turning my laptop on.  I have logged some significant hours the past 4 days with re-familiarizing myself with photoshop elements and my (new) camera and my google password and blogger and figuring out what and where my skydrive is on my computer (it's amazing!).  I still have so much to learn, but I am thrilled with what I've been able to accomplish so far.  It feels so great to be taking pictures with a purpose again and to be noticing details and things I love about my children's daily habits and quirks. 

I played around with photoshop elements for a bit yesterday, creating simple tags I can easily attach to a birthday or wedding gift; a thank you or congrats or a just because occasion.  It's something I have wanted to do for years, but have never taken the time to sit down and do. 

and I didn't stop there.  I figured while I was at it, I should get a head start on designing Ray's Valentines (last year we produced roughly 90 Valentines between Nolan, Ray, and Savannah). 

Then bam:
Before I even realized it, I had designed, printed, picked up {clearance Christmas} red Nerds at Target today at 70% off, and finished Ray's Valentines.  It cost me less than $2 to make 30 of them. It's awesome and absolutely ridiculous at the same time. 


nothing super special, but Ray approved (after changing "Love" to "From" and was only a little annoyed that I printed a heart on them). 

Something else I'm adjusting to again:  the Saturday date night while blogging daily dilemma.  And church starting at 9 am instead of 11 am tomorrow.  I'm feeling the pinch tonight. 

5:51 pm, and I'm signing out!