I Get It

My kids owe me.  Big time.  There are the little things like dinner and folded clothes and rides to and from everywhere.  Then the bigger things like midnight drinks of water, a safe home, hugs and kisses and kind words.  Add braces and ballet slippers and combing tangly hair and playing Monopoly on a Friday night and you can see how deeply they're in debt.

But they just can't pay it back.  It's not possible.  They don't have the capacity or even the comprehension of what it takes to raise a family.  They just don't get it.

And that's okay.  See I don't need the money back that I've spent feeding and clothing and protecting these babies.  I don't want it.  Here is what I do want.  I want them to have happy and obedient hearts.  I want them to see a sibling in need and offer to help.  I want them to love their brothers and sisters and their parents.

I'm in debt also, to a God above that has provided everything for me and continues to bless me. He sent His Son here to this earth for me and you and everyone else who will ever call this place home.  I'm oblivious and unaware of what it takes to sustain my life here on this earth.  I have no comprehension of the magnitude of His blessings.  I just can't grasp it, it's beyond my understanding.

And that's okay.  See, all He asks of me is to have a happy and obedient heart.  He wants me to notice when someone near me is in need and He wants me to help.  He expects me to be kind to my brothers and sisters even if (and maybe especially if) they are different from me.  It doesn't matter what we look like or how we see the world, we're all children of the same loving Father in Heaven.

I can never pay Him back but I can try to do my part, my small part.

It's my choice

I'm pulling out the soapbox for just a minute.  Pull up a chair and get ready.  Here goes:  life and motherhood and pretty much anything is what you make.  

Focusing on the screaming and the crying and the sheer drudgery of laundry/ dishes/ cooking for ungrateful people/ not sleeping more than 6 hours in a really long time just makes me cranky.  When I'm cranky my kids bug me, the husband pisses me off and the house is just too small and too dirty.  I can't live feeling like that.

I choose to not let the ever expanding mud-hole bother me (can someone explain the fascination with kids and mud).  I choose to find joy in the fact that I have a washing machine and a dryer and a dishwasher and the chance to be home with my kids all day, every day.  I choose to be grateful that I have food that I can put on the table.  I choose to look for what is good rather than pointing out the negative.

And sometimes I choose to take a walk ALL BY MYSELF when life gets to be too much.  Cereal is a perfectly balanced dinner and sometimes I've even been guilty of putting the kids to bed an hour or two before the usual time.

I look a little freaky but ignore me, LOOK AT THAT BABY!!

I'm a grownup so I get to choose for myself.

I choose joy.

Daily Five

I've been keeping the postpartum depression at bay this time around and here are a few of the reasons why. 

1. Exercise.  I had this idea at the beginning of September.  I was going to exercise every single day for the whole month.  Beginning to end.  I figured it would be a good way to get back on track and start feeling like myself again.  I think I made it through the first four days.  Then I fell off the wagon.  And now we're back to the usual 4-6 days a week, not bad but not 30 days straight.  I run (very slowly), I lift weights (little bitty tiny ones) and I've started practicing yoga again (sort of).  It makes me feel good and keeps me happy and gives me the illusion that someday I will have abs of steel.
2. Read my scriptures and pray.  I'm working on the Book of Mormon these days.  I'm also praying for more patience.  Of course every one knows that when you pray for patience God laughs and makes your kids dance on your last nerve.  Maybe I should leave the P word out of things.
3. One meaningful project.  You know how you clean your house and then the kids get home from school and it looks like a bomb went off?  At least mine does, so meaningful project does not mean the regularly scheduled shoveling out.  The definition of meaningful project is A: must be completed start to finish in under 10 minutes and 2: it has to be something above and beyond regular home maintenance.  For example: organizing my shoes, cleaning the top of the fridge, dusting the dryer.  You can see how high the bar is set around here but organize your shoes and then tell me you don't get a little thrill every time you see them nicely in a row.  No really, someone back me up on this so I don't feel like such a weirdo.
4. Eat healthy.  Cookies for lunch, bad.  Soup and a sandwich, good.  Cheese nachos for a morning snack, very bad.  Hummus and veggies, very good.  You get the idea.  Eat healthy you feel good.  Opposite, feel bad.
5. Get enough sleep.  That means not too much and not too little.  My baby laughs at this.  She thinks it's hilarious when I tell her that people actually sleep all through the night without any milk refills.  But I remember that when I used to get enough sleep I felt much better.  I also remember that if I took a super long nap then I'd feel kinda worthless for the rest of the day. Someday I'll give too much sleep another shot just to see if I'm remembering it correctly but for now I can testify that not getting enough sleep makes it hard to function.

So to review.  Exercise: check.  Reading my scriptures and praying: 75% check.  One meaningful project: check.  Eating healthy: 50/50 check.  Sleep: not even but a girl can hope.

Aunt Sandra

She's coming home today!  My baby sister, who's totally not even a baby anymore, is coming home from a year and a half in Russia.

She's been teaching the people in Russia about Christ and how families can be together forever.

I've missed her pretty face.

Surviving Sunday

We had a special church meeting today.  Three hours long.  Normally you can find us Mormons in church every Sunday for three hours, that's not the out of the ordinary part.  Usually that looooong stretch of time is divided into 3 different parts.  That means moving around and changes of scenery and different teachers who usually aren't your parents.  You know, things to make life better.

Can you imagine her saying "no more church please, you're killing me!"  Or maybe I'm projecting...

Today it was three hours.  In the same room.  With the same boring parents and the same boring (to the short people) broadcast.

But the husband and I aren't rookies so we had a plan.

Sort of.

It involved lots of paper, pencils, blank address labels and some bribery in the form of food.  We also took a walk around the building around the first hour and made several trips to the drinking fountain.  Oh and don't forget the "pick your battles" talk the grownups memorized.  It goes something like this.

Yes Grant is sitting in the windowsill.  That's okay, it's not like there's a line for it.  Oh and look at Anna, she's helping Nathan fill in the address labels and then sticking them on his shirt.  At least they're not putting them on the walls.  Jennie has had about a pound of cranberries and still wants more.  They're supposed to be good for your bladder right?

I'm pretty sure that all parents who make it through long meetings with their offspring are getting a fast pass to heaven.

We deserve it.

2:36 AM

I sat straight up in bed, my heart was racing and I just knew something was wrong.  I hadn't heard from the baby in a while.  As I ran into Maggie's room I checked the time.  2:36.  Babies don't sleep that long.  I listened for sounds of her breathing and grunting and generally making noise.

The girl is a noisy sleeper, that's why she's had her own room since she came home from the hospital, but now her room was silent.  I put my hand on her to feel movement, nothing.  So I wiggled her around a bit and she started grunting.  Finally I could breathe again.  I went back to bed where I laid down and tried to relax.  About ten minutes later Maggie started crying, probably because I woke her up.  This time when I went back to her room I turned on the lamp and looked over at her crib.

She was on her belly with her face pressed into the mattress.  That's when I really started to lose it.  I'm not sure how a 6 week old baby who was swaddled tightly managed to roll from her back all the way to the front.  I don't know if when I put her to bed I put her on her side and she somehow rolled over.  I just don't know what happened.

I do know that Someone was watching over my baby.  It was Divine intervention, I'm sure of it.  Whoever or whatever it was that woke me from a sound sleep, thank you.  Thanks for watching over my girl.  We'd be lost without her.

*don't worry, I laid Maggie down while I changed my shirt (that she vomited on) and that's when I snapped the above pic, I didn't leave her laying like that, I promise

5% Rice

You guys all know about the rice trick, right?  The one where if you drop your phone in a crock pot full of water (because it was "soaking", not because you were too tired to wash it the night before) you put said phone in a bag of rice and it sucks all the moisture out thereby rescuing you from a ruined phone? That's the rice trick I'm talking about.

The rice works but I would also recommend a high percentage of Divine intervention.  See when the above mentioned tragedy occurs it helps if you were grabbing the precious phone to call your better half so that you could read scriptures as a family.  You're blessed for attempting to do good things.  At least that's the creed I live by.

After this tragic accident Anna so lovingly reminded me "pioneers didn't have phones..."

Not a recent pic but oddly appropriate, pioneers and all.

Thank you child of mine.  Pioneers also didn't have surgeries to schedule, people to call and friends to annoy with whiny texts. Geez.

Let's summarize:

• don't leave water in your sink
• don't put your phone on the ledge above the dangerous sink
• do good things with your phone
• have rice on hand

10 years down, 10 million to go!

2002-  Boy lives in one state, girl lives in another.  Boy calls girl, they talk about nothing and everything.  Several more calls happen.  Boy and girl spend some time together.  Boy and girl fall in love.  Boy proposes to girl in an airport.  Girl says yes.
2003-  Girl moves to same state as boy.  Boy and girl get married one really cold April day.  Boy and girl are very happy.  Girl sees a tiny little puppy and says "pretty please", boy sees puppy eyes and says yes.
2004-  Puppy has a rival for boy and girl's affection when new baby girl comes along.  Girl is pretty certain the people at the hospital are crazy to let her go home with a baby.  Boy goes back to school.
2005-  Boy and girl and new baby girl and not so tiny puppy move to a bigger house and are sure they'll never be able to use all the empty space.
2006-  Boy and girl get a bit of a surprise when baby #2 is actually #2 and #3.  Girl is now certain the people at the hospital won't let her go home with 2 babies.  They do.
2007-  Boy finishes school.  Girl is very grateful to have a husband home in the evenings.
2008-  Girl discovers her secret desire to run a marathon.  Boy tells her to go for it and is now alone with three small children most Saturday mornings while girl runs.  Girl runs marathon and swears to never participate in that kind of nonsense ever again.  Boy is grateful to have a wife that can again walk up stairs without crying.
2009-  Baby #4 comes along bringing the total to 2 boys and 2 girls.  Those people at the hospital let girl take the baby home despite her serious doubts.
2010-  Girl plans a really long road trip.  Boy has doubts but goes along with yet another one of her crazy ideas.  Girl begins to have doubts but she's made the plans and is stuck.  Boy and girl pack the kids in the car and take off.  Really long road trip ends up being lots of fun.
2011-  Girl decides it's time for her to go back to school and finish what she never really started.  Boy also decides to go back to school and get his Master's degree.  That big house that seemed so empty is actually bursting at the seams.
2012- Girl thinks that things are kinda boring and that they need to mix things up a little.  So kids start ballet.  Some of them play baseball.  All of them swim.  Girl runs another marathon.  Girl wonders what she was thinking.  Boy keeps going to school like the genius he is.  Boy and girl dream about spending time together not doing homework.
2013- Baby number #5 decides to finally join the fun.  She's not here yet (due in August) but she's anxiously awaited... by the siblings (and her parents too).  Girl knows how hard it is to have a baby and wonders again why she's doing this.  Oh yeah, it's because there's nothing better than a new baby.  Boy and girl have made it to 10 years and they still like each other.  They're considered experts (in their own minds).  Boy is almost done with school, happy dance please.  Girl has an ambitious goal to finish her college education before the youngest child gets their doctorate (or something equally smart).  Wish her luck.

*If you're confused by the 10 million in the title it's because we believe that we are going to be together until the end of time.  It helps to put things in perspective... except for laundry, there's no perspective on that.

The Calm in the Storm

When tragedy strikes my mind starts to race and I think about the frightening world we live in.  Then I take a deep breath and peace returns.  I remember that there are many things out of my control and that bad, horrible, awful things happen to really good innocent people.  My finite mind offers no explanation for the hateful actions of our fellow citizens of the world.

But here's what I can do.  I can love my family.  When they leave the house I want them to know just how deeply they are connected to me.  I don't just say the words "I love you", I also fold their laundry and feed them.  I give them a soft place to land when the world gets too rough.  I remind them that we're in this family forever and that it doesn't end when mortality closes.  And when I lose my temper and scream in frustration I apologize and tell them how sorry I am.

Today, that's all I can do.

Top 8: What I Love

These gorgeous planks of imitation wood.  I love the look of dark wood, it just looks incredible but...  Last year I stained our deck stairs a dark brown, almost black aaaannnnddd they've looked bad ever since.  Four kids, a dog, a busy housekeeper, it just wasn't a good idea.  So we went light and I LOVE them.  LOVE!

Baby checkup yesterday.  She's healthy and growing.  Along with my arse... but you know, what do you do?  Oh quit eating Peanut M&Ms... right.

The man I married, he's a winner.  Yesterday I had a serious freak out   Like ugly demons took over.  He just rolled with it and when I finally got over myself he didn't even play the injured party card (even though he totally deserved some serious payback).  He's a keeper.

Somehow I hit the offspring jackpot.  My kids are funny (ish), reasonably well behaved and usually thoughtful and kind.  I kinda think they're the greatest people ever to grace this planet.

I read this (scroll down to number 5, I'll wait) on Cari's blog.  I've been laughing ever since.

I really do try to take care of this miraculous baby machine of mine so most mornings I hang out with my friend Sadie Lincoln over at Barre 3.  It's a good time, try it.

I'm a Mormon, a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints if you're being particular and today I'm a stickler because my love for the Savior, well it makes everything that I do not only possible but also meaningful.  I'm blessed to belong to a church that teaches that this life isn't the end of everything, my family that I love so much is mine forever!  That's a pretty great thing to help you make it through the day.

Last of all this boy kills me.  He's still trying to overcome his disappointment that Baby Girl isn't Baby Boy.  I was toweling him off after a shower and this is the conversation we had.

Him:  Why can't our baby be a boy?

Me:  Because Heavenly Father decided we needed a girl.

Him:  (thinking) Well He should have sent a boy too.

Me:  You mean twins?

Him:  Yes, a girl AND a boy.

Me:  Well... He didn't because He loves your momma.

Him:  Oh.  Maybe next time.

The End.

Kristen

If you're strong enough, there are no precedents.

F. Scott Fitzgerald

Blessings in (serious) disguise

Sometimes those things that we pray for come in obvious ways like a new job or a healthy baby but then there are others that come sorta through the back door.

Example #1- The Locked Door

This boy.  Bless his heart.  He's pretty self sufficient these days.  For example he can go to the bathroom by himself, wash his hands and then turn off the light and shut the door.  All on his own.  This pregnant mama is grateful.  But for today let me tell you about the blessing in disguise   He did all of the above but added an extra step, he locked the door behind him.  The bathroom door.  Locked.  I was thrilled.  I pulled out my mini screwdriver and went to work.  I also said out loud "Heavenly Father please help".  It wasn't a real prayer, more of a "Are you kidding me?  Again?" kinda plea.  But here's the miracle, the screwdriver slipped right in, found the little latch thingy and the door opened.  I promise it wasn't me.

Case Study B- The Thread Jam

While mired in the depths of yet another Swan Lake costume (long story, I'll tell you later) I could hear three of the kids playing so nicely together with happy voices and kind words.  Except the exact opposite   As I was sewing I thought "What am I supposed to do with these kids?  They're making me crazy."  Then the sewing machine jammed.  So I turned it off and left the room.  I started reading the literary classic The Truck Goes Vroom!! and peace returned.  The screaming stopped.  The fighting ended and I had a happy home again.

Description III- The Note

I opened my thought for the day and these are the words I read  "Sometimes you just have to take the leap and build your wings on the way down."- Ray Bradbury  I immediately thought of the Swan Lake wings and laughed.  We're on version 63 (give or take a few) and it feels like flying without a set of wings.  It's no coincidence that those were the words I read on the morning that felt like the beginning of failure.

God is in all things, even locked doors and thread jams.

I see Him.

Marriage 101 (10 years in the making)

You know how you get in that rut?  That married person rut?  You know you like each other but you can't really remember why.  It's not that there's yelling or fighting, there's just a general feeling of don't care.  Am I the only one who's ever felt that way?  Please tell me no.

There are probably several reasons for this rut (school, work, pregnant wife, more school, 10 years, etc) but rather than accepting this rut as our new normal I decided to fix it.  Novel concept, I know.  Get ready for another one, I didn't blame it all on the husband.  You know, like I usually do.  This time I've accepted responsiblilty and have been on a mission to fix our relationship.  Totally grown up, isn't it?

I hope you know this about us but I'll tell you anyways, there's no abuse, there's no neglect, we care for each other.  I'm not trying to fix an abusive relationship.  We're both good people that have spent some time drifting along with no real direction for this thing we call marriage.  I know that popular wisdom would say that we've just "fallen out of love" or even worse "drifted apart" but I don't buy that, not for a second.  What the world calls love is wrapped up in lust, it doesn't take into account the hard work, the new babies, the years in school or the time in the trenches.  That's what love is, it's more than just him looking good in his Levi's (but let's be honest, that doesn't hurt).

Let me detail my self help plan.  I started with this book.

Short summary, Dr Laura teaches women how to care for their husbands.  A man that is loved and respected and admired will care and love and respect and admire his wife.  I think it should be required reading for all new brides.

From Dr Laura I moved on to this classic.

Super good picture, I apologize.  After reading Dr Laura I realized that I really had no idea what my husband needed the most from me and in turn I wasn't sure what I was looking for.  William Harley teaches the reader how to define their needs and best meet the needs of our better halves.  This is one that every married couple should read.

Finally to complement the above book I read this beauty.

I got it, I understood how different we were and I can see that all the things that I have been trying to do to "fix" this situation have been things that would make ME feel loved and cherished, the husband wouldn't always have that same reaction.  Not because he's a heartless jerk but because the way that he feels loved and cherished is different.  It was eye- opening.  Interestingly enough I've since noticed how each of my children reacts to different love languages, what makes my oldest daughter feel special doesn't work for my youngest son.

These three books have been eye- opening but if I had to choose just one it would be The 5 Love Languages.  It's very simple and it makes sense.  It is one that applies to every person in the world, married or single.

The husband and I are getting there.  Not because he's doing anything different, the guy is practically a saint, but because I've changed my attitude.  If you quit looking for the bad and start asking for divine help there is no reason you can't have a happy marriage.

Good luck!

Kristen

Shaping the Soul

There are moments in our lives that define us, that shape who we are and change our very reason for living.  Then sometimes there are moments that change a community, a nation and even a world.

I remember exactly where I was when my world and the rest of creation's changed.  I was in college in a small eastern Arizona town.  Since that day 11 years ago nothing has been the same.  Brothers and friends have gone to war and some didn't come back, we can't just hop on a plane like we used to and our world has become so small and sometimes frightening.  We're now fluent in Middle Eastern names and places in a way that we could never have imagined.  That heartbreaking Tuesday morning has redefined our existence.

Just like September 11, 2001 has footnoted our lives, I believe that 71 years ago there was the exact same shaping moment for a generation that came long before me and probably even you.  That December morning when planes flew into Pearl Harbor, the world became a different place. 

One of the things that I remember most vividly after the towers fell was the way that we reached out to each other.  Class and race and status didn't matter anymore because we were all hurting and we were all afraid.  We came together in a way that was unimaginable.  I imagine it was the same when Pearl Harbor was attacked.  America must have rallied and united behind a common goal.

I hope that we never forget the tragic moments that have shaped our existence, whether it's because we had a CNN- eye's view or just a chapter in a textbook.

Love,  Kristen

A revelation (of sorts)

I've spent some time being a bit troubled/ confused/ frustrated by the story of Martha and Mary in the Bible.  Go here for the King James Version but for the lazy among us I'll give you the Tic- Tac version.  Jesus was in the home of Mary and Martha teaching.  Martha was working to get the home ready for the guests that were sure to come while Mary sat and listened. 

I've always identified with Martha.  After all elves don't exist (don't tell my kids) so someone has to cook the food and clean the house and and and...

After Martha complained to Jesus about her "lazy" sister, He told her that Mary had chosen the better part.  What?!  Now those of you that are more spiritually mature than me are shaking your heads but I just didn't get it.  All I could see was Martha being chastised.

Until now.  I get it.  Finally.  Let me lay it out for you (disclaimer:  I'm not a scholar, just a woman trying to make sense of life).  Martha was doing what needed to be done and that's okay but sometimes there is a better choice.  Mary knew that the Savior wouldn't always be there to teach and she was soaking up the time she had, to sit at his feet and learn.

Sometimes I am so busy taking care of my family and doing the things that I want to do that I forget to savor the moments.  My children won't always be under my roof (cross your fingers) so shouldn't I take a few minutes here and there to listen to and enjoy them?  I love my husband, I like being around him and okay, I sorta lust after him but do I tell him that?  Not always.  I'm usually too busy keeping all the spinning plates going because heaven forbid I go to bed with dirty dishes in the sink or put my book down before I finish!

So there you go.  Finally after years of cringing when reading those verses or trying to pick a fight with the Marys of the world (mature, I know) I finally get it.  My family is the better part.  They come first.

I choose them.

The opposite of peppy

You know that deep down to the bone feeling of exhaustion?

I'm there right now and I just don't see an end in sight.  Here it is 830 in the am and I would give almost anything for a nap.  I'm just done for.

Sadly so much of my exhaustion is self- inflicted.  I have four kids.  That wears me out.  I'm going to school.  That makes my brain tired.  I like to run.  That makes my body tired.  My husband works so that I can stay home.  That makes me lonely. 

Before this pity party gets too out of control I have to make it clear that I know exactly how blessed I am.  My bills are paid, my children are healthy and my better half loves me.  All of those things (plus a million more) show me exactly how much I am loved but that doesn't make me any less tired.  Maybe that makes me ungrateful, I don't know. 

I've been trying to cut back and just say no but then I deal with the infamous "G".  You know, guilt.  I'm pretty sure guilt is a woman, an obnoxious woman.  I picture her as a tired and sloppy woman with really bad hair who says things like "if you don't want to be me, you need to do more" or "you're just not working hard enough".  I get it G, I get!  But here's the kicker, even though I know that guilt isn't helpful I still let her hang out.  Just a little while ago I had to say "no more" to one of my volunteer positions and I've gotta tell you, I'm really upset with myself.  I feel like I have let down a group of people and now they are just forced to pick up the pieces.  That makes me feel horrible, like a failure. 

My default setting is usually funny with a heavy dose of sarcasm but I'm just not feeling it right now.  If I were to find a chocolate doughnut hole I'd probably break down in tears.  I want to have fun with my kids and enjoy spending time with the husband.  But right now I just want to do some cave dwelling.  Dark.  Quiet.  Alone.  Sounds good to me.

Folks, I'm just worn out.  I don't get days off and the toll is starting to show.  Sometimes I need to vent a bit and then I'm okay.  I've got good friends and loving family and help from above. 

I think I'll make it, I really do.

What every guy wants

I'm a mom.  Did you guys know that?  It's true, I'm hanging out in the trenches with all the dirty diapers and "that's yucky!" meals and the crying and the whining and the perfect moments when I remember why I love being Momma. 

Classic Miles' pic.  Squirrel laugh, distracted kid and the top of a head.

But I get a little tired of moms and the media touting the hard job that a mother has with no mention of dad.  Yes, mom does work hard.  No, she never gets a break.  Yes, it's a thankless job.  No, there are no immediate benefits. 

But what about dad*?

What about the guy that works to make it all happen?  You know, the guy who pays the bills.  At least around here he does.  I know that not everyone has a traditional situation where mom stays home and dad works but no matter what version of life you're living, those guys of ours, they're pretty amazing**.

They rarely get a sick day (not that we do either but at least we don't have to pretend to function around other adults).  They don't get to skip work and hang out on the couch just because (have you seen my laundry room?  There has been some definite skipping around these parts).  They have to deal with the crazy they married  (okay, maybe that's just my guy, I'm sure the rest of you are sane).  The load that these men carry is staggering.  I feel like I'm a pretty strong and resourceful person but the thought of being responsible for 4 midget mouths and meeting work obligations and working on an intensive Master's program makes me want to cry.

I think that it must be confusing to be a man.  Seriously, I do.  We expect them to have all the answers yet they must always agree with us and assure us that we are right.  We want them to be strong and fearless but then we get frustrated when they won't share every feeling with us.  We expect for them to always be happy and glad to see us while we are allowed to cry and blame all of our problems on them.

Maybe I'm the only one who feels this way.  The rest of you are probably 100% supportive and never play emotional games with your partners but I'm not quite that mature.  I'm working on it and I'm probably doing better than I was when we first started but I've got a long ways to go.

So the moral of this ramble is that I love my husband.  I think he's the hardest working man I know.  I am trying to treat him with more dignity and respect.  He deserves a wife that loves and supports him and allows him room to be himself. 

Isn't that what every guy needs?
 
*Single moms, I don't know how you do it.  My momma was one and I know of no group of women who are stronger or more incredible.  My imaginary hat's off to you.

**Unless he's an abusive jerk, if he hurts you with words or with fists, please get out.  You're better than that.

Date Night

This boy was my hot date.

We went to the airport.

To get this girl.

She's my sister and she's leaving on an eighteen month LDS mission to Russia.  If you think I won't miss her face you'd be wrong.

Airports make me a little emotional.  All those people leaving and coming home, I won't lie, I get sorta weepy.

I'll miss my sister.


PS- Our baggage porter was super cute.

Reality Check

There are times when life gets hard and I feel like I'm one mess away from disaster.  But when it comes down to it, I don't know anything about real grief or heartache.  There is a woman named Lisa King from Australia and her story will touch every part of your heart.

I'm grateful for families, love and hope of something more after this life.

Love you guys!

Kristen 

Survival of the tiredest.

We have four kids running around the house these days causing trouble, spilling blood and creating laundry but we've never really felt like our family is complete.  The husband and I have wanted one or two more but we haven't been in a huge hurry.  About six monthsish ago we decided it was time to add another Miles to the family.  We prayed about it, felt that it was right and decided to go for it.

Fast forward a half a year or so and still no baby but those four kids are still around and getting busier and the husband still works full time plus some more and is going to grad school and a few classes of my own and I started to feel like I was hanging on to my sanity by a short and rapidly fraying thread.  I was spending too much time frustrated with my kids, upset with my husband and just overwhelmed and tired.  So after more prayer and talking with my better half and more tears than one girl should ever cry, we, along with divine confirmation, made the decision that for now our family has four children and that's okay. 

Right now I can't handle another baby.  I want one.  I see people all around me with cute baby bumps and sweet newborns and I want to be there again.  But I also want to be present for the four babies I've already been blessed with.  I want to be a supportive wife as my husband works harder and longer hours than most people and does everything that he can to make our lives better. I can't tell you why the answer six months ago was different than it is now, I don't understand the way God works but I know that He cares about me, He knows what I can deal with right now and He knows that my plate is full these days.

So many times we look at other people and see the way they are able to deal with life and kids and school and stress and we feel like such failures.  We forget to give ourselves a break and accept that every person's abilities are different.  So when I see those mommas with baby bumps and screaming newborns my heart twinges a little bit but that's okay.  When it's right, we'll know. 

Until then I'll just enjoy sleeping through the night.

Kristen

Umm, okay.

On Sunday the kids were learning about the Word of Wisdom (dietary laws that Mormons practice) and my second girl, Pinky revealed just how well we are teaching our children the gospel.  When asked how she could live the W.O.W. she said, very seriously, that she would not wear clothes on Sundays.  Yep, that's right, naked Sundays for our girl. 

Gotta love 'em!

Kristen