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.

Summer Fun

I realize that snow suits are on the store shelves and Christmas trees are at the local Hobby Lobby but around here it's still summer.  As in it's hot, the kids sleep in (sort of) and I don't have much gumption to tackle any major projects.

But just to prove to posterity (and my mom) that we're not completely lazy here ya go, part one of our summer in 7 pictures.

Yogurt really is just as messy as you'd think.

Imagine the dental floss.

Happy birthday to the baby!  Picture of her cake but not of her, what's wrong with that picture??

Houses that we can't afford (thank you student loans) but they're nice to look at!

Swimming with 5 kids is no joke.  It's an achievement man.

I've always wanted to play in a fountain but because I'm a grownup I'm the one telling the kids no while secretly thinking that fountain swimming would be super fun.

Proof that kids really are able to sleep anywhere.  It makes my neck hurt just looking at this picture.

Happy summer!

Postpartum Depression

When I was pregnant with baby number 4, I remember eating and just not caring about what would happen if I ate more than was healthy for me or the baby.  I was certain that the weight would just fall off after he was born and that life would just be fine.  I wasn’t worried about juggling 4 kids under the age of 5.  And I certainly wasn’t concerned about how I was going to feel as a mother.  After all, I had been through twins so one baby wasn’t going to be a problem.  

Turns out I was wrong and I wasn’t just a little wrong.  It was more like two years of living in a fog and feeling that I probably should care but I just couldn’t.  I knew that if I took better care of myself that I would feel better but it was too hard to do anything but sit on the couch.  I wanted to be a better wife but if felt like so much work.  I wanted to hate the fact that my house was a mess but having a clean house meant actually caring and I just couldn’t do that.

Before the baby was born I joined a gym.  It had 90 minutes of free daycare, each day and they seemed to be pretty good to the kids.  So 6 weeks after Nathan was born I loaded the kids up and we headed to the gym.  I signed them in and escaped from 9 to 10:30 every weekday morning.  For the next 2 years we went to the gym every day, Monday through Friday.  People would find out and they would say things like “wow, you are so dedicated, you must love to exercise”.  What I never told them was that while the exercise was fine, what I really cared about was that I didn’t have to be a mom for an hour and a half.  Doctors will tell you that exercise is one of the things that will help you to manage your symptoms of depression.  I’m convinced that if I hadn’t gone to the gym like I did, I’m pretty sure that we would have lost me or my children.  That little bit of exercise made it so that while I didn’t care about taking care of myself or my family or my home, at least I never did them or myself any harm.  

I kept going to the doctor and telling him that I just didn’t feel good.  I was tired and I wasn’t losing any baby weight.  I just didn’t feel like myself.  He diagnosed me with postpartum depression and prescribed medication to treat the problem.  I’m definitely not against pharmaceuticals but I kept saying “no, no, I’m fine” and “it’s just the weight, that’s the real problem”.  I never took the help that was offered.  Instead I went to a state of barely functioning.  My relationship with the man that I loved so much suffered.  I think we just went to our separate corners and simply existed.  He was working all the time and he wasn’t around.  I had 4 little kids, all 5 and under.  I couldn’t talk about what was happening because I didn’t really understand the problem.

Finally I was able to pull out of that awful place.  I don’t know what really made the change happen.  I think that it was a combination of lots of things.  Number one was probably time.  I also went from a state of knowing that I should do better but not caring to actually caring and being proactive about the problem.  I remembered why I loved my husband so much and I worked to be a better wife.  I tried to take better care of my body by being careful about the things that I put into it.  I made a consistent effort to nurture my spiritual health by reading my scriptures and praying and attending the temple.  

When I was pregnant with Maggie (number 5), I was terrified that I was going to go back to that place.  I didn’t want to put my family through that hell.  So I tried to stay active during my pregnancy.  I was careful about what I ate and what I read and what spent my free time doing.  I think that I was also aware of the possibility of the problem so I made sure to ask for and accept help.  After she was born I went through the normal new baby crazy.  You know where you never sleep and you hate your husband (sorry babes) and you’re not sure why you decided to become a mother?  But even with all that crazy I didn’t slide into that pit again.  

Here we are, ten months after she was born and I feel so good.  I think this is the best time of my life. I keep thinking that this is the absolute best that life has to offer and the next day I’m surprised all over again by something even more wonderful than the day before.  Sappy, but true.

PS-  My husband is such a great guy.  He’s never called it quits even during those crazy times.  He’s one of the good ones and I love him so much.  Also sappy, I’ll quit now.

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.

Life changing in the best way possible!

I'm so excited about today's post.  I mean a real kind of excited not the "yes, I love the picture you've drawn (that looks exactly the same as the previous zillion)".  Like "it's my birthday and someone else is making me dinner" excited.  That's what we're talking about here.

Have you heard of clicking?  It's life changing.  See the idea is that for every positive thought you have you give yourself a click.

Started the washing machine?  Click!

Said something nice to the screamer?  Click!

Was kind to myself?  Click!  Click!

You get the idea.  Click for the good in your life.  I don't understand the science behind it but I know I carry myself a little bit taller these days, I feel happier and I'm a bit more patient.  The only change has been carrying my little clicker around.

Now it's your turn.  Billion Clicks has offered my readers a special deal.  Go to www.billionclicks.org to order your very own Clicker Kit, for each Clicker Kit ordered you get a free clicker, wristband and sticker.  Just use the code KRISTEN958 when you order.

It's an easy way to turn the pre- adolescent drama into smiles.  So do I recommend it?  Definitely!  Go get yourself one!

love the miles

Billion Clicks has sponsored this post but I promise that the experience is mine and that I definitely, wholeheartedly and completely stand by this amazing concept.

What's in a name?

Happy Monday morning, well actually right now it's Sunday night and I'm watching Game 4 of the World Series (go Cards!) but I'm multi tasking and writing while watching but you won't see this till morning and now I'm going to end the longest sentence I've ever written.

You're looking at a brand new blog. Okay, just a new title.  My funny to usually only me sense of humor is still the same. My children will never look in the same direction when the camera is out. So business as usual.

When I started this blog the name eightmanymiles made sense to me and it still does but it felt a little long winded and I felt weird explaining the reasons behind the name. So here we are, lovethemiles.com  Explanation included.

1. Love, the Miles. We're the Miles family, so you know, we love you.

2. love the miles. I like to run, so love the miles. Because they're awesome man.

3. love the Miles.  We're nice people so you should love us. It makes us happy.

There you go, I've explained the name,  I've used the word "so" approximately a zillion times and now I'm going to go back to watching the ball game.  Did you guys know that I love baseball? Love it! But I love it more when the D-Backs are playing, maybe next year.

love the miles

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

Wednesday Afternoon

3:00 double check all bags to be sure there are cleats/ shin guards/ ballet shoes/ etc.
3:15 load Suburban with crying baby (because you've rudely interrupted her nap) and talkative preschooler and nine million sports bags and snacks/ dinner
3:25 re-buckle preschooler because he had to go to the bathroom one more time, hey, better now than while waiting in traffic
3:27 comfort inconsolable baby but know that it's probably a lost cause, poor girl
3:40 drive two blocks to wait for the always late bus but you're being optimistic that it just might be on time today
3:50 no such luck, late again, load three older kids, ask questions about school, deflect any TV requests with "we'll see, maybe later", translation: dream on kid
4:03 late for ballet again, yay us (sarcastic yay), maybe next week
5:15 on time to first soccer practice (sincere yay)
6:30 hand off two kids to the husband, he's off to second soccer practice
6:45 home with three kids, shower for the oldest, bed for the preschooler and a marathon nursing session with the baby
7:30 two kids home, backpack sorting begins, gathering of all the smelly clothes happens, kids shower and go to bed
8:00 pack lunches (normally the kids do it but it's easier to have mom do it tonight), clean kitchen (sort of), hope that listening to an audio book in the car counts as 20 minutes of reading (it should...), listen to baby cry while the best dad in the world does his best to comfort her

The End

Time Flies

Somehow I had two babies at the same time (oh my word!) and I managed to feed and change them and generally survive the chaos.   I think I was younger back then.

circa 2006

They grew up and now they feed and dress themselves and definitely create large doses of chaos.  They still make me tired.

just last week

Obviously our family is just not capable of taking family pictures where everyone is A: smiling, B: looking at the camera or C: sitting up straight.  I think that needs to be our next family project...

2011...  I think

This picture makes me happy.  I love my kids, LOVE THEM!

july 2013

Happy Tuesday!

Love, Kristen

Three Things

1. I am confused about something happening in the distance.
2. Nathan requires hands on guidance during pictures.
3. Polka dots there wishes Grant would move out of her way and that leggings will never go out of style.

1. Maggie is actually screaming her head off.
2. Nathan can't smile his usual sweet smile in a picture, instead it must be a "crazy" smile.  His words, not mine.
3. Grant is now old enough to restrain his brother during endless family pictures.

1. If you cry long enough you will eventually fall asleep on the couch.
2. Sometimes Anna is kind enough to let her younger siblings borrow her stuffed animals.
3. Yes, he is giving all of us the middle finger.  Interpret that how you want.

Favorite Food Friday

I like to eat.

No surprise right?  Hey, take a back road with me for just a minute.  I still don't know how to spell surprise.  Yep, I'm 31 and don't have a clue.  I also don't know my roman numerals above III.  And I call myself educated...

Like I was saying, I'm a fan of food.  So here's a good one you should try.

• lettuce, pretend that you see spring mix because that's makes this salad even better
• fresh tomatoes
• carrots
• chicken
• plain yogurt
• Mrs Dash seasoning

So good.  So very good.  I'd also recommend cucumbers, sprouts, maybe some summer squash and even some cottage cheese.  That would take this over the top.

Have a good weekend!!

I'm not alone, right?

*see below for three burning ???'s

I've had a baby recently, have you heard?  As I've been recovering from another cesarean and dealing with more sleepless nights I'm reminded again of just how hard it is to have a baby.  Yes I know just how blessed I am.  Raise your hand if you don't know someone fighting heartbreak in the form of infertility?  I'm waiting...  yep, didn't think so.  There's always someone that has it worse than me/ you/ the general population.  So my first thought is to stuff down the feelings of frustration and exhaustion and anger in the name of "it could be worse".  Well it could be but does that make my feelings less valid?

I'm grateful, I really am.  But you know what?  I'm also tired.  I'm the sole source of comfort for a beautiful and needy baby.  If this family wants dinner I'm the one they're looking at.  If they want a ride to soccer/ ballet/ the grocery store, it's me.  If the house is going to get clean, tag, I'm it.

Let me just insert in here that the husband does more than he really has time for but he's also slaying a big giant dragon in the form of looming unemployment.  The kids are also becoming more and more self- sufficient.  For example, Anna is perfectly capable of doing laundry.  All of the kids can load their dishes in the dishwasher.  Grant is great at getting breakfast ready and Jennie has taken Nathan under her wing.  She's sort of become his shepherd or sheep dog, one of the two.  So the husband does his best.  The kids are helpful.

But they still make me crazy.  The husband can look at me wrong and I lose it.  The kids will make too much noise and I'll blow a gasket.  Maggie wakes up for the millionth time in a row and I hit the wall (literally, it hurts my hand).  Does it sound like I'm angry and bitter and down on the world?  I'm not, like I said I'm grateful.  I am very blessed but I think we do ourselves a disservice when we refuse to acknowledge the challenges we face.  Especially this roller coaster called postpartum.  It's ugly man.

I've been here before so I know that this is just a season, we'll make it through.  Until then know that I'm just trying to do my best and sometimes that means that all I've got is a short fuse and dirty laundry.

*How exactly do you hold a baby so that they don't look like a lump?  Why did I think those boots were a good idea?  And can someone please come weed my garden? It looks gross.

Dear Mom

Dear Mom,

Maggie will be month old tomorrow.  

I still don't sleep.

The house is umm, frightening.

The kids are getting sick of cereal.  Of cold cereal can you imagine?  I would have killed to have cold cereal everyday but I digress.

We found out that Maggie has acid reflux.  That's why she's been spitting up through her nose.  Weird huh?  She doesn't have any of the other symptoms like weight loss or screaming or projectile vomiting.  Just spit up through her nose.

I realize that you have responsibilities, a life, a husband, animals, etc to take care of but really I could use your help.  Plus I'm out of granola bars.  I really need some more.

I have proof of just how competent you are, here you are running payroll for hundreds of people all while comforting my crying baby and telling me that millions of women have had children and they survived so odds are good that I will too.

So like I was saying, come back Mom.  I miss you.

Love,

Your Favorite Daughter

Introducing...

She came early.  But this post is late.  Only not really because technically she wasn't due until tomorrow.  So let's call it a wash.

I'll let her take it from here.

Hi guys.  I'm really pretty aren't I?  I know, I know looks aren't everything but they don't hurt.  But let's cover the important stuff.  My name is Marjorie Grace but I answer to Maggie, Mags, Magzie, Magzilla and Maggie Mae. Give my siblings some time and I'm sure they'll come up with a few more names.

I was born on July 23.  I weighed 6 lbs 5 oz and I was 19 inches long.  I wasn't supposed to come until tomorrow (August 8) but my mom started having this thing with her kidneys and the doctors said it was my fault.  So they pulled me out of my nice warm home, her kidneys recovered and I was healthy so I guess it worked out okay.  Don't worry, I've since apologized to Momma and she's forgiven me so we're good.

My siblings love me.

So there you go.  I'm healthy.  My mom is healthy.  My family loves me.  I'm also hungry so I'll stop dictating this to my secretary so that she can feed me.

Love you guys!

Recently (or a classy photo dump)

What's wrong with this picture?

Let me set the stage.  It was just after 5 in the morning.  I didn't sleep great last night, who does at this stage of pregnancy?  Finally, I have several pairs of running shoes, maybe it's time to go through them and consolidate a bit...

Nope, I didn't change them.  I did my workout and just snickered at myself whenever I thought about my shoes.  For the record, let's define "workout": it was a mile and a half in 30 minutes.  My former marathon self is shaking her head in disgust but she'll pull through, she's been here before.

Step one of the classic barn fowl game.

Step 2, let the fun begin.

The first annual backyard camp out was born last week.  You'll notice there's not a place for me.  That's because my pioneer ancestors would be ashamed of me for sleeping on the ground (while expecting a child) when I have a perfectly good bed inside.

The fun lasted until about one in the morning when the thunder and lightning started.  The campers relocated to the family room floor.  I stayed in my soft bed.  It was lovely.

The rain kept coming which led to the following.

Miraculously no one fell and no blood or tears were shed.  Like I said, a miracle.

Nathan is convinced that he fits.  It could work right???

Are you still with me?  Good because here's what we do everyday.  EVERYDAY.  Because it's hot and the alternative is My Little Pony.  

I prefer skinny kids in swimsuits.

Happy Monday!

Kristen

PS- future generations should know that Grant isn't a fan of the pony show, that would be his sisters and his easily influenced brother.

My Better Half

The guy I live with, he's pretty great.  This morning I was rather snappy with him because I was tired (7 months pregnant means you're always tired).  Rather than snapping back he just gave me a hug and told me it was okay.  In honor of him (because he's such a keeper) here are 8 things I love about the guy.

1. For the last many moons he's been working loooooong hours AND going to school.  Without complaint.  
2. When I made shrimp spaghetti (an experiment that failed, really failed) he didn't retch in disgust.  In fact he choked it down and didn't say anything negative until I'd given him the go ahead.
3. Even though he's exhausted from those long days our lawn is still beautifully manicured.
4. Every crazy idea I've had, he's gone along with... road trips, furniture shuffling, five kids... he's game for the above and more.
5. He honors the covenants he's made with me and with God.  The husband's integrity is beyond measure, I don't ever worry because when he tells me something it's true.
6. The man is funny.  He makes me laugh. 
7. He drives the world's saddest car.  There was a recent, umm, run in with well, another car.  When he puttered home he pulled out the saw and did some surgery and drove it to work the next day and the next and...
8. He loves me.  Really truly loves me.  Even when I'm at my most unlovable he still thinks I'm worth caring for and treasuring.

It's not our anniversary.  It's not his birthday.  It's just an ordinary Monday.  I just love the guy.  

Sappily yours,

Kristen

PS- don't ever put shrimp in your spaghetti.  You will vomit or at least want to, I promise.

These days

Match the bullet point to the picture.

• The gorgeous queen's crown.  Being the costume director for a ballet (especially if you've never actually seen said ballet) is an adventure in creativity.
• Seriously the best salad I've had in recent memory.  There were grapes, oranges, and strawberries along with feta cheese and some incredible glazed pecans.  It was dressed with an incredible raspberry vinaigrette with a bit of a kick to it.  I still think about how good that salad was.
• The three older kids taught themselves how to ride a bike.  With no parental involvement.  That means the husband and I scored big time.  No hunching over running after the bike... we are blessed.  Part two, notice Grant's bike.  I found it a consignment store.  For $25.  Quite possibly the greatest score ever.
• The dollar aisle at Hobby Lobby contains treasures.  Especially useful for rainy days.
• Our floor project has continued to morph.  We, meaning I, figured that while the family room couches were out in the garage that we, meaning I would take advantage of the chaos and paint the family room.  I'm tired of the brown/ tan/ beige/ boring walls.  So we're upgrading to a gorgeous yellow.  I had to re texture the ceiling (thank you builders).  Friday night I painted the freshly textured ceiling.  Saturday morning I thought about crying because my arms hurt.  I'm planning to paint the walls tonight and the trim sometime later this week.  That means that if we're lucky and I remain motivated, the kids might be able to sit on couches instead of camp chairs to watch PBS kids.  Maybe.
• This is Rothbart's hood.  He's the bad guy in Swan Lake (but I've never seen it so I couldn't tell you exactly how bad) and his costume is incredible.  I say that with a certain amount of pride because somehow I, along with divine help from above created something pretty amazing.
• My oldest girl, Anna is incredible.  Someday I'll write a mushy post about how much I love her and how wise beyond her years she is but for now just know that she's amazing.  She's the kind of person that just makes me want to be better.  She's a blessing.
• Nathan hasn't mastered the two wheel bike skill yet so he's banished to a bike trailer that is technically too small.  We need to upgrade to a bike seat but I'm having a hard time finding one in my price range, $0 to $30.  There doesn't seem to be much in the lower end of that range...  Jennie however has completely mastered the dual arts of bike riding and matching her shoes to her shirt.  She's got skills.