That I don't want to forget...

There's going to be a time soon, when all of these everyday quirks that seem routine right now are going to be something that I don't even remember without a prompt. In my always healthy way of clinging to the moment, I want to record some of those little things that I can look back on when I'm not in this season of babyhood and remember with a glad heart.
Like the way that the boys are only allowed in the trunk of my car when I'm nursing Lilah. So whenever we are on the go and she's hungry, I'll park and let them unbuckle and climb into the trunk to play while I cram Lilah and I into the front seat and I feed her while she kicks the steering wheel repeatedly.
Or the way that everytime we approach a stoplight, Cole says, "Red means stop and green means go and yellow means SLOW DOWN!".




Or how every morning I'll grab Lilah and whisper to Fin to come hide in my bed and snuggle until Cole finds us. So we lie with Lilah in between us and take turns kissing her soft cheeks until Cole tears himself away from Mickey Mouse to yell "HEY! Where are you guys?". Then we pull the covers over us and try to be as still as possible until Cole yanks the covers back with his big toothy grin peering in.
And how we like to pop into Pats office to surprise him with a treat and I tell the boys to tiptoe like mice so he won't hear us coming. But inevitably someone drops the drink we're bringing him, or a hand gets shut in the door so Pat and all of his office mates are more than aware that the Stephensons have arrived.
I love how when I'm getting my dietvanillacokethankyouverymuch at Sonic that Cole will yell from the back seat "AND RASPBERRY TEA" so loud that it always confuses the person taking my order when I have to say no we actually are not getting that. He gets a warning everytime and everytime he does it. At least he's consistant.
And It may frustrate the heck of my right now that everytime I'm having a serious conversation with Fin and correcting him that he starts dancing his way around me. Like literally Michael Jackson dancing as he looks at me with a totally straight face as if he's soaking in every word. Have you ever had to spank someone for dancing in defiance? Well I never thought I would have to either. But I know I'll miss those parental quandaries.




And soon my sweet Lilah will be toddling around and pulling up on things but right now I love that anytime I call her name she will start kicking her legs furiously and craning her whole body around to see where I am in the room. And if she lives to see the age of 1 it is by Gods mercy because today I caught Cole mid-hammer before he started giving her a check up with a wooden mallet.
And in those Oh-emm-gee moments in the car when I'm driving in traffic and Fin is asking me repeatedly to look at a trick he is doing in the back seat and Cole is telling me that Fin is leaning on his carseat and Lilah doing her happy shriek that sounds like a dozen witches being boiled in a vat of oil, I know that all too soon I'll be driving in silence in my clean-ish car one day and missing those distractions and frustrations.
Because in this chaos there is so much joy. And hilarity and head banging. And letting Fin stay up late to tell me about his day while he sits cross legged on the table dipping his banana into the brownie batter I'm making is one of the many mundanes right now that I want to remember later.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Coley Bear is 3!

Our sweet bear turned three this week. But not without closing out being 2 with a bang!
Monday night we heard Cole crying in his room and found him face down on the floor. One look at his arm and we KNEW that bad boy was broken. He told us he fell off his little toddler stool that's like 3 inches from the ground. Such a bizarre fall that resulted in 2 broken bones in the forearm of his right arm.
Poor babe at the hospital. He was SUCH a trooper. When we left after all those horrible tests, he looked at me and said, "Did we have a fun times at the doctors?". Poor buddy. Always looking for the party.


Sleep deprived and still on some pain meds. If you want to see something funny, put a toddler on morphine. Holy cow, he was saying some funny things to us. We were dying laughing.


He went from a growling bear because of the pain he was in to bouncing back to his chipper, living out loud, funny self. Yes, thats a turkey on his head.


Yes those are Pat's glasses on his face. Its totally normal for him to put Pat's glasses on when he gets up in the morning and walk around the house like it's no big deal. The thing is is Pat's blind as a bat so I wonder how he can even walk around and see with those glasses on.


Cole said for his birthday that he wanted a "bananaaaah" Party which means a minion from Despicable Me party. Noooot easy to find these things but we pulled it together to decorate the house and he was thrilled. He woke up and said, "Am I three now???" and then ran to Lilah's crib and said, "Lilah...it's a minion birthday time".



After cinnamon rolls for breakfast and dropping Fin off at preschool, we hit up the Y where Cole can now go in the game room because he's three. This is like...the dream of his life. He's like a crazy bird let out of it's cage when he gets in this room. Running around the room, saying hi to everyone, it's so funny. After the Y, I took Coley to a special one on one lunch to Chickfila. We let Lilah tag along.





That night most of my family gathered at Anna's Pizzeria. Cole was thrilled to death to have most of his favorite people in one room. He was so excited and Nanny made the most amazing minion cake. Seriously Nanny, you're hired for all future cake making...whether you like it or not :o)














After cake and family time walking around on Salem Street, we headed home with Uncle Will and Sarah to hit the pinata. Because nothing says "wind down for bed" like hitting the heck out of something with a baseball bat.


Of course we had to put the minion feet on Lilah. Clearly she thought it was hilarious.


I mean, I just could not love this boy anymore. He is chock full of SO much personality. Since he got his terrible twos out of the way at 18 months, we have found this past year to be delightful. EVERYONE is this guys friend. He runs into rooms, restaurants, stores and yells, "Hi guys! Whatre we doing?". He is almost always bouncing around happy but if his blood sugar gets low, you better duck and grab the closest Snickers bar b/c homeboy can growl. He loves Baby Einstein, Mickey Mouse, walks to the stop sign every evening to say hi to the moon, wearing socks, his three blankies, blowing bubbles, riding in the gator next to Fin, taking tubby's, going to Nanny's house and so much more. My favorite story of him the past year is my parents took him to Camp Willow Run to visit my sisters. The whole camp was singing, 'Holy, Holy, Holy' and when the song ended, Cole was the only one who kept singing and they realized he was singing, 'Toley, Toley, Toley'. He thought the whole song was about him and that everyone was singing his name :o)
Cole, may you always feel and assume love from everyone, even strangers. You have the gift of quirk and friendliness and your dad and I pray God uses that to draw people to Him. We love you with the fullest hearts.

Fin starts Preschool

Well we did it. Almost one month into Fin being in preschool and we are all adjusted and I don't cry myself to sleep every night :o) In all honesty this boy was READY to start his big boy school. He was...I wasn't. I kept thinking to myself, "I don't want to hop on this train". Once the school train starts, it doesn't stop until...I can't even say how it stops b/c it makes me feel like someone punched me in the stomach. But the word starts with a "g" and then it flows into a word starting with a "c" and then I end up whispering in the kids ears as they sleep, "You never have to leave home. You can live here always". Anyways, it's not about me, right?



Preschool morning started as any good morning should start...with doughnuts.


Fin was so excited to dress "sharp" for his big day and kept asking me how many more minutes until we leave. Which then morphed into the conversation of "how long is a minute?" and I"m really hoping Mrs. Amy can help us figure out concepts about time before I pull my hair out from the questions :o)





Don't think this boy let me off easy. The night before preschool, he told me he was going to miss me a lot to which I had to respond in a fake squeaky voice, "No you won't, you'll be having too much fun!". And then the next morning he made me a bracelet to remember him by and asked if we could cuddle in bed before preschool to look at the photo album of his baby pictures. Are.You.Kidding.Me? Apparently we were doing this the most painful way possible. Again, not about me....
That night Pat talked Fin into requesting Waffle House for dinner which was totally suspicious b/c Fin has never been to the Waffle House. The puke in the parking lot should have been our first warning.


Lilah sensed this was a casual establishment and put her feet up.


Even though we're at preschool 3 days a week now, we are still squeezing the heck out of the last summer days.
We're hitting up Jordan Lake...


Working in the yard with dad...


Doing Cousin Park dates...


And eating lots of s'more still.


So I guess we're on the train now. And I would say something positive about that except I'm still kind of struggling with letting any of my chicks out of my sight for three mornings a week like that. Growing pains certainly are painful but I guess they're necessary to avoid having my balding fourty year old son living in my basement. I'm not gonna lie though, I'd totally love.
No I wouldn't.
(Yes I would).

Fin the entrepreneur

The Arnold's gave Fin a whole bug catching set for his birthday and let me tell you...nary a fly has lasted more then a minute in our house since then. I'm loving it.
Yesterday Fin made business cards that said, "If you have a bug or animal problem in your house, call Finley" and I had to write my phone number on the cards. He then drew a picture of a butterfly on it and a kinda creepy face. He fell to pieces when he couldn't master the drawing of a net so I assured him that was more of a six year old thing and we moved on.
He dropped off his card and waited by the phone... He asked me if anyone had called every five minutes and came into my room with a furrowed brow to ask, "Did you remember to write on the card that we're closed if there is a full moon". Silly me, that totally should have crossed my mind. He was a little peeved at me that I hadn't but managed to get over it.
Since then he's had 2 business calls (both from kind Jamie and David) and he's locked himself in our bathroom with a ginormous fly and his net. Im not sure what went down in there but there was a lot of crashing and he kept yelling, "you can FLY but you can't hide!!!".
He emerged sweaty and victorious with a pissed off fly in his net.
We are hoping he goes to college one day but if not...I'm not too worried about him making ends meet.

Enough.

There are a lot of articles on social media right now circulating about "mom guilt" and "the mom wars" where mothers are constantly comparing and being compared to other mothers and measuring themselves based on the ideal of the other. Nursing moms vs. Bottlefeeding moms, stay at home moms vs. working moms...the general consensus among everyone seems to be, "can't we all just give each other a break?". No one agrees with this more then I do. I'm all about giving each other grace, encouraging each other as moms with love. Because, aren't we all just doing the best we can?
Except some days, if we're honest with ourselves, we are not really doing the best we can. There are those occasional days when we wake up and have this inner rage where we're like, "Where did that come from??". We snap at our kids and get on them for meaningless things, just because we feel like snapping at someone. We are weary, we haven't had a date night with our husband in awhile, and honestly that sketchy drop in day care down the street that we SWORE we would never step foot in is looking more alluring by the minute.
In those days, in those moments, I am grateful for my husband who keeps me in check. When I'm being snappish at the kids, I can tell by his raised eyebrow, or the way he steps in to help out extra, that it is his subtle way of telling me I'm getting a little cray cray. Sometimes that can make me feel defensive but always I see that my defensiveness is rooted in a truth. I am grumpy, I am tired, I cannot inflict that on my children just because they are there.
In the past week I have seen two separate appalling instances of mothers just screaming at their kids. One at Target, one at Moe's (two of the holiest of places ;o). The woman at Target was a mother of five and had temporarily lost her twins because she was looking at nail polish. She started loudly screaming at her eight year old that he should have been watching them. She berated, she complained loudly, and when she finally found her twins, she over and over told the kids how much work she does and how they make her life so hard. Honestly, everyone in the store was just cringing and looking at each other like, "Is this real life? Does this lady have any idea how horrid she is being?". In her projected complaints she probably thought she was garnering the sympathy of all of us around her but really we were all appalled. Later in the parking lot, I witnessed her smacking one of her kids b/c they weren't getting in their carseat fast enough. I left with a sick stomach, praying God would speak to that woman.
But later, when the incident stuck with me, I felt convicted. I should have said something to that woman. Not out of righteousness or anger, but out of love. If I could do it over again I would have gone up to her and said, "We have all had those days, Motherhood is HARD. But that is enough. It's enough". I'm not saying that it's my place to do that, I don't know if it's anyones place. But when we as humans are out of control, someone needs to remind us to check ourselves. Yes, motherhood is hard, but that is no excuse for any type of abuse or cruelty to our kids. All that is teaching them is lack of self control and to hurt others when we ourselves are hurting.
When my kids are grown up I think I'm going to have an interesting ministry. It will be a hodge podge of holding your newborn baby so you can sleep at night, driving around dropping off casseroles for mothers who are having hard weeks, and watching your kids at the pool so you can lay out in stillness for an hour and collect your thoughts. We as mothers are all in this together, but just as there should be no comparison, there should also be a goal that we are all lovingly holding each other to a higher standard. To strive to teach our children kindness and grace through our actions. And in those moments when we want to lash out at them, we need to keep ourselves in check and maybe get a milkshake instead :o)


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Finley's Five

Happy Birthday to my sweet Finley Patrick. Lover of all things superhero, legos, bugs and swimming.


Finley, you have my heart. You made me a mom, something I always wanted more then anything else in the world. When you exploded into our lives, you were immediately so loved and so rejoiced over by me and your dad. And while I got the hang of the mom thing and the sleepless night thing, you were there with me. We would spend hours a day lying in bed together. Nursing, snuggling, and when you were older I would pull you in bed with me in the morning and hand you a spatula and you would happily chew on that next to me and kick your legs while I woke up slowly.


Almost everytime I nursed you as a baby, I would pull a giant blanket or quilt around us and make a sort of cocoon that we would be relax into. I wanted you to feel the most safe and loved you could feel.


I remember the night before your first birthday. I was just gripped with this fear of you growing up. I rocked you to sleep that night and held you for the longest time, like an hour and a half, just snuggling you and praying over you, and asking time to stop. I didn't want that first year to be over.


We were on a blissful high, your dad and I with you. You were a little third wheel. We went on walks to downtown salem street most nights. Showing you the train, giving you a taste of icecream. You never slept great at nights but after awhile, that was just our new normal and it was ok. We were best friends, the three of us and it was such a sweet time.


And now you're five. And we had a party to celebrate. Five years of parenthood, survival, learning on you and loving on you.





We're still best friends. You make me laugh so much with your quirky old man humor, your insights into things that we just assume someone your age is oblivious to. Your dad and I have to spell out some of our conversations (which we won't be able to do much longer) but you hate not knowing what we're talking about and you'll instantly ask us, "soooo, what did you just say?".














You are loved by so many. Your family, your friends, your Sunday school teachers and Y workers. Everyone seems to get a kick out of you. While you do have some sass that popped up this year that we're trying to help you restrain, you have the sweetest heart towards younger kids and your baby sister. I hope your heart always stays this tender and innocent and I know God is going to use your softness for His good.





Every year you get older I want you to know this. You.Are.Loved. You were wanted and you are a child of God. And He already knows his plans for you and I'm guessing they're pretty big.








As you start school this year, I want you to learn and grow but I also want you to look out for others. For the kid that no one really plays with, for the one that is quiet and shy or homesick. You are a natural leader and I pray you learn how to make the kids feel included when they're feeling akward.











We love you son. We are proud of you and I think this is going to be a great year for you. When I asked you what you were most excited about turning five, you said, "I just think I'm so big. Like I'm just so huge and big now." You are, but you are still my baby Fin.
Love,
Your Mama