lower your expectations...and then lower them again

I heard this piece of advice about expectations recently. It was in a list of advice to mothers and how to deal with the demands of life. When I first heard it, I hated it. I balked and said well that's a great attitude. How about aiming high, doing your best, never give up? Then it got stuck in my head and I mulled it over a bit.

Maybe it's good advice after all.

 I've been on campus a lot lately and suddenly I'm realizing my age. I'm interacting with students who are ten years younger than me. I don't know how that is possible. Some sort of magic math since I'm pretty sure I was sophomore just two or three years ago. What? I have a five year old??? So I guess it's been at least five years, but 10?

I see these students with their simple lives and I think of when I was that age. I never would have thought that I would EVER allow my car to be this cluttered. I never would have imagined I would constantly be losing my keys in my bag because it's so full of wipes and cars and cheerios. I never would have considered skipping washing my hair that many days in a row because I simply don't have enough time.

I was in a meeting yesterday and I took Eli, who is almost three and absolutely darling and amazingly mischievous. He did really well considering the length and subject of the meeting (and quietly chanted "s...u...u.." while he drew). At one point he was acting...two...and caused some noise and commotion. The girl next to me smiled in amusement. I wanted to lean in and say "Cute, huh? You do realize I am you in five years, right?"

When I was her, I thought if I ever had kids they would be everlastingly clean and perfectly polite with extensive vocabularies and an affinity for adult conversation. Truth is they are usually grubby, under dressed, demanding as they appropriately should be, despise anything calm and orderly, and their favorite word is bum. Bum bum bum.

Here's the caveat. We are really happy. I adore my children just they way they are. I lowered adjusted my expectations. I think it's better to play tag than vacuum the car. I even think it's better to take the poor middle child to a boring meeting on campus than walk out of the house and hear him cry "please don't leave Eli".

I would be drastically less tired and stressed if the house stayed in order. But I've changed my expectations again. I love having neighborhood kids and cousins come play. I love craft projects and science experiments. You can't have it all.

I'm really really tired. But that's not new. I've never been skilled at sleeping and lately fall asleep quick and wake up within the hour. Talk about obnoxious.

But what really makes me tired is the brain energy that is required to do these things:

• Have a family
• Keep my marriage strong
• Run a household
• Pay bills
• Feed everyone
• And then they need to eat again
• Take care of the yard
• and the garden
• and the chickens
• Work part time
• Be in a religion
• LIVE my religion
• Do visiting teaching
• Be a Cubmaster. Plan pack meetings, go to training, holding trainings for leaders. Argue about the budget.
• Volunteer for Bountiful Baskets over most of Southern Utah
• Be involved with SUU Outdoor Recreation
• Keep all of Mason's kindergarten stuff straight. Get library books back, send crackers, show and tell, reading books go back on Monday, homework during the week. And he hates how socks feel. Everyday.
•  Any personal improvement. 

So for those reasons and many more, I realize that expectations have to change again. Some things have to go. Obviously from my lack of posts here, it looks like I gave up writing. I do want to write though so my new plan is to forgo the individual kid blogs and just do my best here. Dad was explaining to me about frustrated perfectionism: If you can't do it just the way you want, sometimes it means inability to do it at all. Guilty! But I have to adjust again and realize that if I don't write when I can, I will just end up with gaps and more frustration. So I will try again. I was just reading in last month's Ensign magazine about keeping a record, a book of remembrance, and it inspired me to do better.

We'll see how long it lasts.

Good day

Today was ordinary. It felt routine. Felt like life. And as I get ready for bed tonight in realizing I don't ever want to forget this day.

The day started too early for us as parents. Jason rolls out of bed hoping the clock is wrong. I get out of bed for what feels like the dozenth time to tend to one if the boys. It was a chilly morning and I let the big boys crawl into my bed and wedge their chilly feet under me. After a few precious minutes of dozing they choose breakfast over cartoons and we're up.

Throughout the day the kids rotate through my attention. Sometimes their needs feel choreographed and I accomplish one after another successfully. Other times it doesn't go as well. Like when Sam needs me and Mason wants an early lunch and suddenly Eli is announcing he wants to use the potty.

Jason called from work at 1:14. That is not a normal break time. I was worried he'd chopped his arm off. Dramatic I know but that was my reaction. It was a power outage and he was getting off early. Much much better news than dismemberment.

I unsuccessfully ran a few errands (once again: power outage= closed stores) while Mason still at school and the other boys were napping. Then I took Mace and Eli to get real haircuts. I knew it needed to be done as equally as I knew I'd regret it.

We grabbed dinner from the beloved pizza cart. Jason built a cozy fire and we spent the evening not doing anything specific other than spending time with our children.

The new normal is Mason goes to bed quickly and easily. Eli procrastinates and we let him charm us out of disciplining him. Sam is still unpredictable; he went to sleep well but will likely be up shortly.

Good day. Good night!

Preparing for winter

Tough, helpful, happy kids

Brothers

Mason, Eli, and Sam make me so happy. A boy is great, but a brother is something special.

I love that the boys love each other. Sure they also make each other mad and make each other cry... But they also make each other happy and make each other laugh.

I went down to check on the big boys last night. We have been trying out having Eli in a toddler bed Mason's room. They both seem to do better when the share a room. When I went in the room last night, Eli's bed was empty... But I found him curled up in bed with Mason.

Sam has the nursery to himself now so through the night I put him on there instead of the cradle in my room. I slept so much better. Looks likely we'll make it through another day.

Life is good.

Our boys

Smartie

I got a new phone. I'm most excited just to have a phone that holds a charge more than three hours.

There are other perks if course. Like when I'm up with Sam all night I have entertainment to keep me awake. And when he has a hard time calming down I just bust out a white noise app and we both zonk out to the calming sound of ocean waves.

And hopefully I'll keep up on blogging a bit better. I'm too busy lately to take many pictures but the new phone should help.

Here's my sweet babe:

Ah, technology.

How does it feel?

I've been asked this question a lot this past week. How does it feel to have the baby here? How does it feel to have three? How does it feel to not be pregnant? How does it feel?

I am a girl with big feelings and I don't have the words to do those feelings justice. Some words, inadequate words, that come to mind are happy, relieved, tired.

It feels right. Sam was meant to be in this family at this time. He is the right child for us. Jason and I are the right parents for him. I am so happy he's here.

sleep

I was just updating (yes, I do that every six months or so) the boys' blogs, each with a little story about sleep that I didn't want to forget.

Ah, sleep. I've never been good at it. As a mom I just accept it's part of my job to go without it. Even when the kids aren't actually waking me up, I spend those nights staying up thinking about them.

Lately, between a million bathroom breaks a night, checking on the kids, and having absolute freak out style anxiety about sleeping through a real contraction and not making it to the hospital in time,  I sleep mostly between four and seven. This means Jason is on his own for breakfast and leaves for work while I'm finally resting. This also means there are a lot of mornings when the kids sleep late that I do too. I am aware I should be up and could be getting a lot done in those precious minutes, but nothing seems more important than sleep. I also love the mornings because after laying down for that length of time I have very little pain anywhere and it's a nice break.

Here's the great parts of not sleeping (here's me trying to put a positive spin on something I desperately wish I didn't go without):
I get to enjoy being close to my husband for hours more than most wives.
I get to enjoy seeing my kids sleeping, which is one of the most beautiful things to witness.
I get to spend cute and somewhat strange time with the kids when they wake up in the night.
I get to enjoy peace and quiet in my house. Those things are absent during the day.
I get to read. I get to ponder.
I get crazy. Okay, not a positive but entertaining. Sometimes I wake up in the morning and have no idea what reality is because my groggy brain invented some really bizarre stuff during the night. 

I'm not really going anywhere with this post, so I think I will go to sleep (this means turn off all devices, cuddle up to J, and feel Tango squirm around for a while until he too falls asleep, then I just think for a while). I don't have many nights like this left and soon I'll be lamenting the fact that I ever stayed up on purpose.

because I actually laughed out loud

today

Today I woke up feeling sad. Really really sad. For no reason sad. Although my night hadn't been restful and full of vivid dreams that I now can't remember, this morning I couldn't think of why any of them would make me feel so low. I tried going back to sleep and when I got up I slid over and got out of Jason's side (the actual "wrong side of the bed"). Still sad.

After breakfast I told the boys that we were skipping chores. All they had to do was brush their teeth and we'd go to the park. Mason was overly grateful and profuse in his praise of my kindness. Eli just kept shouting "side side side" (meaning outside). Mace picked Park Discovery and I'm glad we headed over early since it was hot and getting hotter.

Here are the boys all flushed and sweaty:

My favorite parts of the morning:
When Mason was playing in the rocket ship and kept yelling "Three Two One Fire". I would correct him and say "Blast off" but he thought I was in my own rocket ship and we were just playing.

When Eli decided to play the Hug Game which is where he alternately hugs me and then Mason repeatedly. He gives the best toddler hugs in the world.

Next we went to Mom's to visit her, Amy and Jeff. We feasted on Mom's homemade wheat bread and strawberry jam. Ames watched the boys while I ran out for a bit and then I came back and fell asleep on Mom's couch while Eli finished his very long nap.

By the time we got home it was late afternoon. Janett and Brady brought Brylie over so they could head to the temple. I love watching her because she's darling and it's good practice. Mason was sweet with her and Eli was either jealous or oblivious of her presence at any given moment. Jason fell asleep with her in they recliner.

While at the park I realized how long it's been that I've been feeling sort of crummy and run down. It's been about six weeks. I know my immune system is lame, but that's a long time. I was able to get in to see a doctor who informed me that I have strep. Which likely means Jason, who has the same symptoms, has it too. Though we haven't been down and out, sick in bed, we've both had a lingering sore throat and low energy this whole time. We started antibiotics tonight and were careful around the baby. Moral of the story, don't wait six weeks and don't kiss boys.

So now it's (past) time for bed. I'm not sad anymore, just tired. Perhaps it was the sunshine that cheered me up, or all the hugs, or the homemade bread. Or the antibiotics.

I can't imagine waking up tomorrow anything but happy. Tomorrow is one of the best days of the year. I promise to write about it (and spend some time catching up on all my other past due posts). Here's a hint: It's a night full of my favorite things. Family. Root beer floats. and FIREWORKS!

You know things are bad when...

When you think "I'm never going to make it through this month. May is going to kill me off" and then look at the calendar and it's only April 29th. For the record, I made it. Bring it, June.

When your little four year old wakes you up to ask you to please help him take off his bike helmet. Great...except you didn't know he was riding his bike. Or that he was even outside. Or that you had fallen asleep...

When your husband makes you repeat the promise "not to start a batch of laundry until all the other clothes are folded". You know how some people have piles of dirty clothes? I have baskets of clean clothes. And in my mind they have expiration dates. After so many hours in the basket they become unclean. I have the impulse to wash them again. I am really good at doing laundry. I'm getting really bad at putting clean clothes away. Every time I sit down to fold a kid needs me desperately or I fall asleep (see above).

parenting means you do stuff

Like my very intelligent title? Sorry, it's the best I can do on the amount of sleep I'm getting.

I just wanted to record a few little thoughts this morning on parenting.

I'm not talking about the big hard decisions we make. I'm not talking about the truly heartbreaking ordeals that many parents go through. I'm talking about being a parent every day.

Like getting up. I'm not a morning person. I'd love to get up super early and have everything done before the family arises. But instead I sleep every extra minute I can. Jason is long gone for work by the time the kids stir. When the first one starts making noise, and this is usually Eli, I drag myself out of my insanely comfortable bed and we begin.

Sometimes I feel that the days are a blur; each one starting the same way: "morning sunshine" to a toddler who is so pleased to see me that he's giggling and flopping all over his crib. And my days end the same way: "night night little Starr" as I put him in his crib and he sighs in satisfaction and smiles. It feels like I'm always doing those two things, as if each bedtime just happened 30 minutes ago and the rest of the day was on fast forward.

Sometimes I feel that the days last forever. I love the saying, "parenting is composed of long days and short years". When the kids are in bed at night I find myself sitting, on the couch/bed/floor, just sitting trying to find enough energy to go to bed. It seems like those days are about 80 hours long.

As a parent, you do stuff. Like get up when you'd rather not and keep doing the same things over and over. Maybe some people easily do this on their own once they've 'grown up' but I know that for me, the kids push me a little more than I would otherwise push myself. And it's a hard and wonderful thing.

***

(long whiny story goes here)

Last night I went to work and then the grocery store. After talking to Amy for a while I came home and put away the food. Within five minutes the house was in an uproar. Eli was crying hard and I couldn't figure out know why. He woke up Jason, who is sick and was sent back to bed. Then Eli woke up Mason who started crying really really hard. I tried holding and comforting each son, but even with my ever expanding stomach separating them, they were not pleased to be sharing mommy with the other. I finally got hysterical Mason calm enough I could leave him long enough to get Eli a drink. After he drank about a gallon of milk he started up again. The familiar question "How am I ever going to do three?" ran through my head. Finally Eli begged for bed and I was able to focus on Mason. He said his eyes hurt, his throat hurt, his toes hurt. Mason, when feeling poorly, is a hard case. You'd think he was dying before your eyes. It's safe to say he is a wee bit dramatic. I finally calmed him down with a throat lozenge and a glow stick. When we went to put him in bed Eli woke up again. I'm pretty sure there are a half dozen really good reasons not to let your tiny children sleep with glow sticks but I couldn't think of one as they contentedly went back to sleep in their own radioactive glow. I got ready for bed and Jase woke up enough to see if everything was okay. I could tell he was really not feeling good, which is always concerning with him because he rarely gets sick. When he does it's something major. I rudely opted out of his embrace and spent the next 10 minutes rearranging pillows trying to find a position that didn't hurt my back, hips, or babe. Not easy to do. Finally found a comfortable arrangement when Mason started crying. Up again, helped him open his water bottle, and back to bed. When I stretched out this time, Little Mister Fetus decided it was time to Zumba. He's got some amazing moves. Even after he calmed down, I just couldn't sleep. I thought about all I need to do to go to the ranch this weekend, all I need to do for my calling in primary, all I need to do to organize our summer schedule, all I need to do to prepare for a new kid, all I need to do to end world hunger. Then I do what I often do and "run through the list". I start with my oldest sibling, consider how he is doing, how our relationship is doing, what I can do to help. Then I go on to the next one and the next one. Perhaps I should blame my insomnia on my parents for having so many kids.And now I have Jason's family to "run through" and my own kids as well.

This morning I don't remember much about Jason leaving, just that he was still feeling rough and telling him to take leftover chicken for lunch. Before I knew it I looked at the clock. Hours had sped by and Mason's school bus was minutes from arrival. THIS moment inspired this post. I thought, forget it. It's the second to last day of school. He's probably getting sick too. I am so darn tired. Let's just forget it. Then the parent in me thinks, do it. Get up and do it. He can do it if you help him. He loves school and it's where you've committed to send him.

Though it's sad dressing a four year old while he's still fast asleep and demonstrating the coordination of a rag doll, it's what I do most mornings anyway. This morning he was dressed and eating in two minutes. I slid on his shoes while his sleep heavy eyes examined his breakfast. He actually got ready so fast we had a few minutes to talk and cuddle. I was afraid he'd fall back asleep. Mason was abnormally sweet and it was nice to do this part of the day without screaming or fits. The bus' arrival ended our morning prayers and he went to the door saying "I love you mom". From the porch I always wave and then sign I LOVE YOU as the bus leaves. He did the same back and then let his little hand linger on the window. THIS little act made every struggle of the past 12 hours worth it.

Whoever says parenting is a thankless job is not paying attention.

Eli has slept in over an hour but now I can hear him talking and playing. I will go get him now, he'll act like it's Christmas to see me, and my heart will burst all over again.

My summary: Parenting means you do stuff. Especially when you don't want to. And the same stuff repeated a thousand times. And it's worth it. And I'm so grateful for every part of it.

Green toes, ways to die, and I'm really tired

I mowed the lawn yesterday. Front and back. With Jason protesting the whole time. With each row I alternated between love for spring and the outdoors and hate for who ever thought it was such a good idea to lay so much sod (it was me).

Favorite things about mowing the lawn: Being outside. Moving. Completing a task where you can clearly see what needs to be done, how to do it, witness your progress, and have such rewarding and immediate results. It's not laundry. The lovely smell. And that it makes my feet green.

I know you shouldn't mow bare footed or in flips but it completes the experience. So if you ever hear that all my toes were severed you can say "hm, musta been mowing the lawn silly girl". And if you ever hear I've been in a bizarre car wreck, just know it's because I sneezed. Sneezing while driving is so dangerous! I'm certain this will be the cause of my demise. This is something I think about almost daily. 

I want to be more active and enjoying this wonderful weather. But a little bit more than that, I'm really tired. Really really exhausted. And my back hurts. So do my hips. My abs are pretty much absent for the duration. I'll confess that I wake up every morning conspiring how I can sneak in a little more rest that day.

So why aren't you in bed, one might ask? Because sleeping at night is apparently not what this baby wants me to do. Ever. From the beginning I haven't been able to sleep at night. Then there was the bladder stage. Then the morning night sickness stage. Then the crazy hip pain stage which has lessened considerably. Now we have the "getting kinda big" stage mixed with the "why do I work such stupid hours" stage.

Somebody call the Waaaaambulance, right?

Actually I wanted to write this because I'm really excited for the 3am feeding stage. And then the learning to walk stage. And the copy everything big brothers do stage. And the wrestling and the teaching and the cuddling. And then, with all the kids we'll hit the "I don't need you Mom" stage and I will smile bravely and privately cry a little and still sneak in to peak at them at night. And then someday we'll hit the "Mom, I really need you"stage and I will smile lovingly and privately think "I know" and keep trying to be the best mom I know how to be.

On my mind

Mason (the son) hid the jelly beans from Jason (the father) so he wouldn't eat them all. I know Jase will read this so I shouldn't say it, but it's been so entertaining watching him search for the candy. I honestly don't know where they are and Jason really REALLY wants some jelly beans.

 

Today at the grocery store a woman told me that Eli was so darling he belonged on a cereal box. I guess that is how you know if you are cute, if you make an appearance on a cardboard container for processed/fortified breakfast food. It struck me as funny and I smirked for a good hour. Also, it's hard not to think you have the most gorgeous children when strangers are constantly gushing over them and commenting on their features. All. The. Time. 

 

I talked on the phone with my Uncle Larry for a very long time today. I know, without a doubt, I have the best family on earth. I need to make more of an effort to stay close and connected, but there are a lot of us and it's hard. I'm not joking when I say I have 4 reunions a summer plus two work weekends which are just like reunions but without a talent show. Actually, seeing the skills my Uncles have is pretty much like a talent show. (My dad has a talent for getting tractors stuck. I love that about him. Optimism proven.)

 

I love PB and J sandwiches, but lately just like them with one piece of bread. I went to type "open faced" but I wasn't sure that was a common term. In my family we have some strange terms. Don't worry, I Googled it and it's really something other people say too. So I love open faced PB & J sandwiches.

On another food topic, I heard it takes something like 50 gallons of sap to make one gallon of maple syrup. I don't know where I heard this but I have been feeling astonished ever since. 

Did you hear the one about the pilot that woke up from a nap and saw Venus and thought it was a plane coming towards him so he dramatically saved everyone on board by dive bombing the plane towards the ocean? (Ironically there was a plane below them and he could have caused a real collision).  This story has fascinated me and I keep looking into it. I now know a lot more about pilot rest regulations and star orbit patterns. Did you know if you are going to nap it's best to sleep less than 45 minutes or more than an hour and a half if you want to avoid a case of the groggies? And every night that I work I look at Venus and smile. Good one, Venus. 

 

I still love Bountiful Baskets. We eat a much greater variety of healthy foods than we would otherwise. This week will be a challenge to use everything we got. Usually there is one or maybe two unusual items. This week we have jicima and beets. Eli and I ate one of the mangoes today. He just kept chomping and smiling. I will eat the three artichokes alone. Poor me. I am SO very sad that no one else likes them. NOT. The pineapple and bananas still need a day or two. 

I need to post this story on Mason's blog but I'll put it here too. The other day we were reheating some stir fry for dinner. Mason started specifying what he wanted in his bowl. "Oh carrots, I love those kind. And lots of broccoli Mom. Broccoli is my favorite. And some protein!" he said, pointing to the chicken. 

 

I finished reading Esther's Children. I am struck by two things. One, I am so grateful to live in a time when we don't have to have the trial of disease with us as prominently as just a few decades ago. There were so many stories filled with typhoid, whopping cough, polio, and many unknowns. As a parent I always have a deep fear that it's something worse when a child gets sick. I can't imagine living with those kind of threats to life and health. I feel like my testimony of immunizations was strengthened! The other thing that I learned was the simple yet divine pattern of faith. Trial, prayer, answer. Tribulation, fasting, resolution. Illness, blessing, miracle. Story after story followed the pattern. 

This is the last night Mason will be three. At bedtime I told him stories about him when he was born and what I remembered about each birthday. He is so excited for tomorrow. He fell asleep smiling. (Then I fell asleep too. I am very grateful for a husband who will find me where ever I've passed out to wake me up so I can get to work on time. ) I could say how unbelievable it is that I have a child this old or how fast time has gone by. Really I just want to say how much I love him. I love getting to know him more each day. I am so excited to get to witness his development and life. I love the gradual growth and the sudden revelations.

And now that all of that is out of my head I think I will sleep a little better.

 

the need to read

(enjoy some images from pinterest)

 

This pin came with the caption "kindles don't have this kind of magic". While I agree, Lindsey lent me her's and it was pretty rockin'.

My midwife and I have a funny relationship. Most of the time we talk about alternative cooking methods, emergency preparedness, food storage calculators, cannery night, and our families. Sometimes we talk about babies. When I was expecting Eli we were talking about books along those same themes. I recommended Alas Babylon and The Patriots. She said if I wanted a really good read to check out the Great and Terrible Series. I told her I don't have time to read anymore, especially a whole series, so unless she put me on bed rest I'd just be putting that recommendation on my reading list.

About six months later we were at the ranch and Mariah had left her copy of the first book there. I stole it, devoured it, and was hooked. These books are great. It's hard to pull off "end of the world" meets "testimony builder" but Chris Stewart did a great job. As I starting passing around my copies I realized I needed to keep reading. Bring on Hunger Games series and One Second After to finish up the year.

As a mom I found that reading was something I felt I had to sacrifice. I felt I didn't have the time. I love to read and fondly think of the days when I was a newlywed in California and read a book a day. It may have been excessive but at least it wasn't, ahem, addictive shopping like some other wives were doing.

*want*

Even looking back I can't actually say I haven't read since having kids. It just feels that way. Most of my reading is scriptures or parenting books. You should see the collection of dang parenting books I have. You'd think I would have the best behaved children ever. Soooo not true.

Back to the point of this post. I've decided to keep reading in 2012. To make it a priority. It makes me happy and that's not selfish.  When I'm happy I'm a better mom. The house is cleaner (I play the "you can't read until the dishes are done" game).

I need correct perspective though. I think "I never read anymore" when actually do. I've decided to keep a list. My initial goal is just one book a month. It's not "one a day" but life has changed. And I probably shouldn't be reading instead of parenting, exercising, showering, writing, etc.

The best part of this has been that I haven't wasted time on reading anything not worth while. All came highly recommended by friends and family. I don't think I'd feel as good about reading if I was giving my time and attention to books that aren't uplifting or thought provoking (and I'll just go ahead and declare that's why I'm not interesting in Twilight. There, I said it.)

So without further ado: Here's what I've read so far.

(I wish)

I found The Survivors Club to be captivating. I trudged through In Arabian Nights but the journey was worth it. Enjoyed The Help. Was uplifted by Mama's Bank Account. Matched was, well, a match made in heaven. Crossed was good too and gave me a hankering to go hiking.


I'm currently finding truth in Simplicity Parenting and getting way too many ideas (including getting rid of toys and BOOKS of all things). I'm also reading from Esther's Children which is a family history book about my third great grandparents and their descendants. They crossed the plains pulling handcarts, were part of the muddy mission, and the United Order. Story after story is full of faith and miracles. Certain stories have really affected me. I can't stop thinking about the relative who had a boy, then two girls, then two twin girls. After feeling so blessed and full, all of her daughters were lost to whopping cough. Years later a new baby girl also contracted the illness and was brought back from the edge of death after a priesthood blessing. How much can one woman endure? Her story has brought perspective to my trivial parental complaints.

And that's the point. I don't want to read to escape, but to enhance the life I'm in. I still don't have the time I wish I had but I'll just take it out of my nonexistent blogging time :)