halloween 2015

This year was fun!  And how epic of me to post the night of Halloween.  I will try to ignore the fact that there are many things that probably should have been posted before this.  I'll get to them, maybe.

Something happens to me at Halloween.  As soon as the right idea is hatched, my brain seems to take off on its own, making sense of the most mundane things at Salvation Army.  Peter has been super into pirates since we went to a Pirate Show in North Myrtle Beach at the beginning of September.  And thus has been watching Jake and the Neverland Pirates more than I would care to say.  So Peter was Captain Hook, I was Mr. Smee with my pregnant belly poking out in Smee fashion, and Ian was Peter Pan.  This was not his first time being Peter Pan (as you can see in the picture below!)

Ian as a youngster (and no pants)

 Ian today! Pants intact!

I fashioned Peter's Captain Hook coat from a 90s girl holiday dress. I took it down to Peter's size, and added gold ribbon.  I also sewed/glued his hook into his sleeve so he couldn't remove it HA!  He didn't complain, just held up his hook and exclaimed "Pirate!" the entire evening.  His hat was assembled from a bright pink straw hat that I covered in maroon napkins and sewed/glued into the shape of a pirate hat and added a feather to, as well as a wig on the interior.  I made his little cravat with an elastic neck so I could put it around his normal Sunday button-up shirt.  I'm no seamstress.  And my details are messy.  But I think it turned out pretty great!

The best part of our Halloween this year was when we hatched the idea of a Peter Pan themed dinner, and I remembered the imagination dinner scene from Hook.  Now, we didn't break out into a verbal battle turned epic food fight... (Prison barber!) but we had a really nice time.  On the menu:  Roast chicken, an array of fruits, a cheese plate, dinner rolls, veggies with dip and lemon-lime punch.  For dessert we had pie with hot chocolate.  The perfect companion to the chill in the air.

I'm so grateful for my family and the Hatton's for joining in on our fun!  Everyone came in the right spirit of Peter Pan and adventure.  We had pirates, lost boys, mermaids, little Michael and Tinkerbell. It was good.

To end our evening we roasted Starburst and marshmallows.  We may have skipped out on trick-or-treat this year, but I think our Halloween ended up being something we'll remember for a while.

two

taken by your dad after you had brought all your trains into our bed one morning

You're two.  Really, absolutely, completely two.  It's hard for me to swallow how quickly you grew out of being a baby.  I focused so hard on how amazing it would be to have a baby-- and here you are.  On the way to being grown up.  But do you want to know the fun part?  I am loving every second of it.

No, really.  I thought so much about having a baby, I didn't focus a whole lot on all that would come after.  And you're so fun.  Your personal stamp on life is coming out more and more all the time.  You are obsessed with trains.  You say "trinn-ah" more than anything else.  You recognize any sort of train track, railroad sign, train-like thing everywhere we go.  I feel grateful that we live in Lexington where we have the RJ Corman line so close, you can hear the distant whistle and see moving trains regularly.  I don't think there has been a day that you haven't built your tracks and connected your magnetic trains.

Your other obsession is drawing.  It is your most frequently asked question.  "Draw?" You'll ask.  You prefer mommy's notebooks, and journals with pens and markers to the coloring books with crayons we bought you.  I suppose it makes sense.  Crayons don't color on your skin the way that pens and markers do. I love seeing all your marks and drawings in my current journal.  It is the best reminder of us right now.  I know your scribbles wouldn't mean much to some, but I'm noticing how precise you're becoming.  I see the circles you're practicing.  I'm excited to see where your drawings will take you.  And hey-- you've really pushed me to be good at drawing trains.  There are so many in my journal.  I think you like the process of watching the ink turn into a train more than you like the finished product.  I get that.

You're *officially* in your own bed now.  That is probably the main reason I wanted to write this post.  I'm feeling nostalgic for the baby you're moving further and further away from.  It's a good thing we have that new baby on the way, eh?  Perfect timing I'd say.  I cannot wait to see you become a big brother.  You're already so good and kind to the kids around you.  Like that little girl at the doctors office who you handed all your crayons and coloring book to without expecting anything in return.  I sense that you're getting tired of playing with me.  What better time than now to train a baby to become your play mate?

And just for my own memory, here's a list of things I'm crazy about right now:

-Even though we're working on audibly saying "sorry"... I love that your response when I ask you to say sorry is a hug and a kiss

-A few times you've said "please" (which sounds more like "cheese" right now when you say it) and put your toys away without me having to ask

-You've calmed way down with the kitties, and you and Scout seemed to have bonded.  You're very snugly with her and I'm so glad that she allows you to get up right in her face to smile and give her kisses.  I think most cats would scratch you.  The throwing things at them to get a reaction is getting a little tiring, but you know.  We're working on it.

-I love it when you knock on doors and call out "Heh-doh?" (hello) really loud 

-Instead of saying "yah" when you want something, you've started to nod.  But you don't just tip your chin up and down.  Your whole head is involved, which ends up requiring a lot of your body too.  It's the cutest thing.

-You call Pappy "Hap-py."  It's everyone's favorite.

-Kipper the Dog is the only show you'll sit all the way through for.  I like it too.

-One of the reasons we've upgraded your bed is because you don't feel the need to be confined to your crib/bed anymore.  Most of the time you do well sleeping through the night but then occasionally you'll decide 3am is a good a time as any to be awake indefinitely.  I laid down with you last night in your new bed to try to help you settle down, and you scooted up close to me until our faces were inches apart and you put your hand under your cheek just like mine and began to whisper and giggle for all the world like we were having a special slumber party.

I know there's more.  There is always more.  My list of reasons for loving you is endless.  But I wanted to remember this little picture of you at two.  I'm so glad you're mine.  I'm so grateful for the bond we share that continues to deepen.  You're pretty great, kid.

love you forever,

Mom

did i mention?

I'm pregnant.

I'm already seventeen weeks along, for Pete's sake.  This pregnancy has been so subtle compared to Peter's.  I had painstakingly waited for everything to do with my first pregnancy.  After two rounds of Clomid--I took a pregnancy test the day before my missed period to discover I was pregnant.  This time around, I was still shrugging it off when I was over a week late.  It wasn't until nausea set in that I broke down and bought a test.

It feels like a miracle, really.  I didn't even have to think about it.

Remember how I couldn't picture a baby girl when I was pregnant with Peter?  I could only see a little boy?  Well... the same thing is happening on this one.  Only this time, I can't imagine a boy.  That must mean something, right?  Why can't I picture a boy when I've already had a boy?  Don't get me wrong.  I would be thrilled to have a boy.  I always love it when the first two are the same sex in families for some reason.  I just see a girl.  And the thought is thrilling.

This time 'round has been seriously different too.  Different symptoms.  Nausea the first trimester, but able to keep most things down except for the occasional time that pushed me over the edge.  Different levels of energy and emotions.  Just... different.

Also, I would love to contrive a pill that simulates my second trimester without the being pregnant part.  My confidence rises, my hormones seem to balance out and I have this overall peace that makes everything in life feel pretty easy to manage.  Darn those hormones and emotions.  Always getting in the way of good days.

enough

Credit

I feel like becoming a mother turned life on its head.  Everything feels different, looks different.  I feel as if I'm learning life all over.  This time, my eyes are a little more aware and open to the need for love.  Love for each person I meet.  Love for those who I may have judged too quickly before.  Love for myself.  

It's the love for myself thing I struggle with most.  For so long I've had a voice in my head with a comment about everything I do wrong.  "Why didn't you..."  "Why haven't you..."  "Why can't you..." "You could have..."  "You're so..."  

This voice also chimes in on all the things I'm not in comparison to what's around me.  My style's not good enough.  My confidence isn't strong enough.  My conversation isn't witty enough.  My writing isn't clever enough.  My efforts aren't good enough.  I struggle to fall asleep every night, for this is when I can hear the voice more clearly.  Unfortunately the voice not only comments on the wrongs of the day but all I'd goofed up before.  Focusing on embarrassing moments.  What-if's and What you should have said's.  All of this was growing from a sad (and false) belief I've been building on for seemingly forever.

You're not valuable.  You're not enough.

I've become aware of this foundation of thinking only in the last couple years.  It's a difficult thing to realize about yourself.  And with that realization has come a lot of answers about why I do what I do.  The origin of my insecurities.  For example:  I find I've used this way of thinking as a way to "do good."  I believed that by being hard on myself for the things I was "doing wrong" that I was being self aware as well as motivating myself to do better.  I've always used my shame to stay on the "right path."  A terrible cycle of trying to do better then beating myself up to the point that I was getting nowhere.

Imagine my struggle to realize that this, this way of thinking, what I have always done, was what's wrong.  It's changing everything.  My mantra this year, which I borrowed from Brené Brown's book Daring Greatly,* is I am enough.  

Suddenly, my worth isn't measured by the state of my messy house.  By the laundry I didn't do.  Or the people I haven't visited.  I'm teaching myself that I'm not a terrible person because I haven't figured out how to be consistent with... well, anything.  But specifically dinner at the same time every night, or eating out last second because the thought of making dinner again makes my heart sink.  My worth is not disrupted when I see someone who seems so much more put together than I am and with three kids, yet.  And most importantly that who I am right now is okay.  Good, even.  Someone imperfect but trying.  Really trying.  Someone with great intentions and a lot of hope.  I'm learning that striving to be the best I can be is important, but telling myself I'm nothing until I am that person is stunting my progress.  

It's not easy.  I'm literally rewiring a pattern of thinking that's always been there.  But already it's changing my life.  I feel closer to my Heavenly Father.  I feel closer to the people around me because I'm seeing that they too are enough and loved as I.  I'm hopeful that as I continue to work on rooting out shame and recognizing my worth that things that are hard for me now may not be so hard in the future.  It's exhausting catching myself in my shame-based patterns.  Trying constantly to be kinder to myself, recognize when I'm feeling lousy and trying not to place blame, and then staying motivated when I now feel justified being lazy (ha!)  And all the while balancing my roles as mother, keeper of the home, wife, primary teacher, choir director, daughter, sister, friend, and neighbor.  But life is always something.  Up and down.  Give and Take.  Win and lose.  We must trudge along and do the best we can with the information we've been given and smile as often as we can at what's beautiful. 

So here's to a new week!  A week free of shame and past mistakes.  Another week of practicing to become better.  A new week of being enough.  

*Brené Brown is a shame researcher and I would highly recommend this book.  I think everyone should read it.  It is about the power of vulnerability and whole hearted living as a way to decrease shame.  She also has two excellent Ted Talks that are worth listening to.

a letter to peter

You and Your Pappy

What an amazing boy you are.  Just when I think I couldn't possibly love you more than I already do, a wave of new happy, gushy, perfect love washes over me for you.  I imagine this will only continue.  You're a great kid.  You're happy and funny.  You're kind and caring.  Whenever we are playing with other kids, you are quick to give your toys away or easily move on to something else when the toys you have are taken from you.  You love to play with your train set-- and you are extremely confused and frustrated at the repelling magnets on your trains.  We are working on asking for help, and being calm.  You never miss the sound of an airplane and rush to the window to try and see it.  This happens several times a day with the airport so close.  You're obsessed with water in all forms.  You would take a bath every hour if I let you.  But instead, you find ways to play in water in whatever way you can.  You seem very thrilled that I've let you help me with the dishes, for example.  Which for you is an excuse to play in the sink and spill water on the floor.  You pour out any drinks I give you to splash in.  This is why you aren't left alone with your cups. You love to be outside, especially in the front yard which we don't explore as much as the backyard.  You have a way with animals that I myself have never had.  You've already made great friends with our neighbors puppy Charlie-- and I am sure the dog appreciates all of the things you throw over the fence for him.  You're my snuggly boy.  When you're feeling like a snuggle, you will pull your blanket out of your crib and roll up on the floor with it.  You hold my hand when we read together, watch movies or when we're in the car.  I love it when you hold my hand. Your favorite books are "Brown Bear, Brown Bear," and "Green Eggs and Ham."  I think we've read them over a hundred times.  As much as you chatter, you aren't saying a lot we can understand.  I know you're asking questions, and I know you understand what you're saying.  I'm excited for the day we can talk back and forth.

However, in some ways, I wish I could capture you just as you are now and keep it forever.  You are a boy with an agenda.  You are constantly moving, doing and learning.  I know that your plans will continue to increase in importance as you move onward.  So for now... I bask in the fact that your current goals are: to move the kitchen chair to the counter so you can see what I'm doing.  To switch on mom and dad's lamps on and off again, back and forth.  To rearrange the labels in mommy's garden.  To be in the driver's seat to make "vroom-vroom!" car noises and move the steering wheel.  To dance, "jump" (lift up your legs one at time.  It is so cute), go in circles, and play.

You remind me of whats important and I love you.

Forever and ever,

your mom