5th grade, here we come

On Monday, we went to Gabe's meet n' greet at his new school. We met his 5th grade teacher and we both loved her. He came home and said he was now excited to start school. Yay! We had been talking through his fears for a couple of weeks-- fear of not knowing anyone and a new school- but I kept telling him that he's great at making friends, teachers love him because he's respectful, and that he's a quick learner so he'll adjust quick. I guess after being in the school, he was convinced of that too!

So Tuesday night he packed his own lunch, picked out his own clothes and set his alarm. For 6am. That's brutal folks. His bus comes at 6:50am at the end of our street. I just can't imagine if he was a kindergartener. Truthfully, he probably won't ride the bus many days, but we want to establish the habit for him and for the bus driver so that if we ever need him to ride, it's an option. 

This morning he was in the kitchen before we were. He was chatty cathy and I was bleary eyed trying to find the coffee pot!

He fixed his own breakfast... a cereal bar and a protein shake and he snatched up his book bag and headed off!

I reminded him that no first day is complete without a picture and he obliged :)

Chad on the other hand wasn't quite ready for the barely lit walk to the bus stop...

And so the rest of us waited until 2:30pm....

The little boys voted for late naps so they could see his bus....

And took off running when I told them it was time....

We had to stand near the mailbox so the baby's monitor would still work while we waited for the sight of that big ole' yellow cheese carrying our Gabe home...

And when they spotted it....

They took off!
Some a little faster than others....

And all was well in the Bowman nest!

He came in the door all smiles and and stories-- he was handing me forms and telling me about the day. He loves a good day of organizing, and that's mostly what today was-- learning the ropes, labeling notebooks, making cover pages and color coding... be still my heart :)

Gabe- we can't believe you're in 5th grade! We're excited about your year and watching you keep growing into the man God wants you to be! We pray that you're always brave enough to be a leader and do the right thing, even when it's hard, and that you'll live and love like Jesus! Now just know that even though you think you're too old, I will continue to hide notes in your lunchbox from time to time, and your brothers will always be awaiting your arrival back home. Have fun, learn a lot, and slow down the whole growing up thing, geez! Love you buddy- more than you know or understand!

Baby Sam's Birth Story... Part 2

On May 2nd, at 10:15pm, all the boys were tucked in for the night, I'd had a nice warm shower and was sitting in the rocking chair in my room with the heating pad on my back catching up on Grey's Anatomy. Chad was in the living room just getting started on an estimate when I felt like I peed on myself... this 3rd pregnancy had done some crazy things to me, but peeing on myself wasn't one of them. So I stood up and hurried to the bathroom and realized my water had broken. I yelled for Chad and he came in excited... it was go time! I was a little over 39 weeks, and earlier that day, my midwife had left after my weekly check up with the departing words "I'll be hearing from you very soon." I didn't believe her, because I thought the baby was coming in mid-April, and by this point, I was convinced I would be the first woman in the history of ever to remain pregnant forever. And I wasn't taking it well.

But despite my sour attitude, Margaret was right... I called her with the news, and then we had to call the grandparents. Chad's parents had their motorhome parked on Lake Allatoona just a bit up the road, and they came to get Gabe, and my parents came to get Max and Jack. All the boys were a little surprised to be awakened after being put to bed, but nobody cried and freaked... except me! I was so emotional to send all the boys off, knowing that the next time I saw them, I would be holding their new sibling. I was a hot mess- but in a good, excited way.

I had also decided to have 2 special friends at my birth-- Anna, my friend from college who has no sisters had asked way before I was pregnant to be in on my next birth... people with no sisters have to stick together so I said sure... neither of us knowing what I'd be getting us into with a home birth! And then I asked my friend Lisa who has had both of her babies naturally, and is known for her encouraging spirit to be a part of it as well. She knows all about relaxation and breathing during labor- and she should seriously become a doula someday once her own babies are a little bigger. Also, Anna and Lisa are such prayer warriors in my life- when something is going on, they pray. So they're just who I wanted there supporting me. So I texted them to let them know that my water had broken and that we'd be in touch once it was getting close to the actual birth. Honestly, I thought this would be early morning-ish- but no one really knew how things would progress.

While we waited for grandparents to come claim the boys, Chad and I ran around taking care of all sorts of last minute things-- I had asked Chad to mop the kitchen floor when I went into labor (not sure why this was a big deal, but it was, ha!) We stripped our bed and got the sheets in the wash so we'd have fresh, clean linens after the birth, and I cleaned bathrooms and picked up and straightened everything. After all the hustle and bustle, and sending the boys off, I was having full fledged contractions. They were 10 minutes apart, but they had a bite and I had to stop and breathe through them. About this time, my midwife also arrived. We of course knew that it would be a while before the baby arrived, but she preferred to come on and check the heartbeat, make sure the baby was tolerating contractions well and set up camp. Once all this preliminary stuff was done, she encouraged us to try to rest. We did tried... Chad succeeded for about 2 hours but I was so anxious, plus, hello, the contractions. I ended up getting in the shower for a while, hoping that it would even make me sleepy, but it didn't really work. Around 2am, Margaret checked me, and I was only 3cm and 65% effaced- which was basically what I was before I went into labor. The only good news was how low and engaged the head was. To say I was annoyed is putting it lightly- it reminded me too much of my labor with Max, long and hard with little to no progress... I wasn't impressed. Margaret instructed me to walk around, sit backwards on chairs, climb up and down the stairs, squat during contractions, etc... all to put pressure on my cervix. She explained that if I could just get to 100% effaced that the rest would go quickly. So I did just that. I moved about for a while, but with each contraction, the intensity got a little greater and I began to swell. Apparently this is normal- it's fluid retention and actual muscle swellage due to contacting. I seriously began and ended labor at 2 completely different sizes.

Around 4am, I managed to fall asleep for about 20 minutes and Chad went back to bed for a while. Margaret was insistent that he rest well, because he would be my "nurse" after the birth. And honestly, especially at this stage of the game, there wasn't really anything anyone could do-- that contractions were constant and hard- about 4-5 minutes apart, but they were still manageable with breathing and relaxing, all on my own. By early to mid-morning, I was sitting at the table having oatmeal and just chatting with Margaret. I was asking her all sorts of questions about her life and her relationship with the Lord because even not in labor, I love hearing that stuff, but in this situation, it kept my mind off the ebbs and flows of contractions that kept coming at me every few minutes. During this conversation, they began to get an extra "bite" as Margaret put it. Apparently she could just tell by watching and how I worked through them. Around 8am, I went for another shower- I loved the shower because it relaxed my muscles and the change of scenery often game me a quick break. But towards the end of that shower, something changed and this big wave of contractions came upon me one after another-- I felt myself lose control- like I was no longer managing the contractions and working through them. I came out crying and told Chad I needed Lisa here, stat. At 8:36am he sent her a text that said "head over please". Once I got dried off and dressed, Margaret checked me again and I was 5cm and 100% effaced- we all knew that this meant game on- especially in light of my other labors, during which hitting 5 seemed to make my body go into top speed and spit out a baby quickly.

Within a few minutes, Lisa was there working through each contraction with me, and then Anna arrived, armed with scriptures and prayers, and then Margaret called Jenny, who is another midwife who does home births. They work together and assist each other-- on Margaret's births, Jenny acts almost like a "nurse" assisting and taking care of everything. They are both wonderful and work so well together- it's like a well-oiled machine. It was amazing to me how quickly 11pm to 11am had flown by- I literally had no concept of time and couldn't believe we were already so far into a new day and couldn't understand how I already needed more food (according to Margaret- I was by no means hungry). But that feeling was about to change drastically.

By 11am, my contractions were a minute apart and literally took over my whole body. They would start in my back and come around, squeezing and burning like fire. But I had the added bonus of contractions that started in my hips and went down to my knees, literally causing my quads to swell and clench. Let's just say, I'd prefer to squat 100lbs all day long to that torture. Just a few days before going into labor, my friend Danielle asked if I'd ever had contractions in my legs and I literally looked at her like she was crazy. I take it back, D, I take it back! Those leg contractions are flat out horrifying. At this point, I would work through a couple contractions well and then lose it and require Chad, Lisa, and/ or Anna to talk me back to sanity and control. This kept going for what seemed like 100000 years. I kept asking "didn't I just have a contraction" and "isn't this part over yet?" During this stage, I got nauseous several times and would dry heave several times between contractions. Chad and my ladies would put cold clothes on my neck and face that felt heavenly, but as soon as the next contraction came, I would through them away like a child throwing a temper tantrum, because anything "extra" on me felt like the weight of the world. Chad and Lisa both tried to put pressure on my back and squeeze my hips, like labor books teach you, and I would yank away-- during my first labor, I loved that pressure, but not this time. I literally didn't like anything touching me. I also changed positions frequently-- I'd have a few contractions standing up and swaying and then have some leaning over onto the bed or bathroom counter. Then I switch to the birthing stool, then on my hands and knees, and then the toilet. There was no rhyme or reason- I just kept changing, hoping for relieve I guess. I did ask Margaret where the pause button was and she informed me that they had yet to find it... bummer.

Everyone knew at this point that we were close- and we all knew that I was transitioning, which is hell on earth. What we didn't know was how long it would last. "Most" people transition within a couple minutes to an hour-- especially on 3rd babies. I am NOT most people. I hung out in hell for what seemed like an eternity. And this is when I lost it. I would say "I'm done I'm done" and "I can't do it" and "God, please get this baby out"-- this caused Chad to panic-- especially when I told him I was going to die... something about raising all these little kids alone wasn't working for him! But by "I'm done" I didn't mean that I wanted to head to the hospital or anything like that- that thought seriously never entered my mind-- instead I mean someone get me out of this body-- I wanted to run away from myself! When I think back to where I was in these moments, there honestly wasn't much space in my  brain to process much, but the main thing I felt and needed was to be done-- I needed and pleaded for it be over. For some reason, during birth, I'm 3 for 3 in NOT experiencing that anger you hear about-- shouting at people, blaming my husband, screaming horrid things-- I just don't have that emotion in labor, but this time, I did experience feeling like I couldn't do it- like I didn't have it in me to finish what I had started. Somehow I must've communicated that fear, because I remember Chad whispering "well there's not really anything you can do about that." All my people were so encouraging- I remember Lisa saying over and over "but you ARE doing it, you are!" Everyone knew the baby was almost here- everyone but me.

Finally, a little before 1pm, Margaret talked me onto the bed to check me again- she informed me that baby was all the way down and that I was 9.5 cm-- I just needed that last lip to dilate. I stayed on the bed, kind of on my back and kind of sitting up- this was pure torture- I hated this position throughout the entire labor, it just never worked well for my contractions- but at this point, they were just one after another and I literally couldn't move to another position. Margaret tried to push the lip over the baby's head and that so did NOT work. Holy horrible pain batman! And then all of a sudden the lip was gone and I got more than 2 seconds before the next contraction... that could only mean one thing... time to push!

My first few attempts to push were lame- I knew I wasn't making progress and I just wasn't doing it right-  I kept saying so and they kept encouraging me, but I just knew it wasn't working. But of course in the midst of contractions and pushing a baby out, there wasn't really time for me to delve into what I was trying to say. But someone got it, because all of a sudden Margaret put a warm washcloth against me and said to push towards that-- and within 2-3 pushes the baby's head was coming out.... a baby's head and it's hand because apparently this little baby was a thumb sucker and decided to enter the world with it's hand in it's mouth. This brought new meaning to the "ring of fire." If that phrase is foreign to you, then only look it up if you dare. It may scar you. Because you body has to stretch at this point, my midwife was holding the baby in, while my body was literally thrusting me up to a sitting position trying to get the baby out. At this point, I thought my eyes would bug out of my head and that my body was literally ripping in half. I happy to report that it did not, and at this moment, Jenny, the other midwife, made eye contact with me and did these teeny hyper-ventilating breaths that she had me copy that would basically allow me to live through those next 30 seconds. And then a push and the head was all the way out and another and.... IT'S A BOY!!!!

And I just gushed with pride and joy. It was all over, my body was at complete peace, and I had felt every ounce of my son's birth. There was nothing like it. There are no words to explain what it felt like to have that baby placed on my chest. It was love- so much love- and just like that every single bit of it was absolutely worth it. Upon arrival, my sweet baby Sam was perfect. He arrived at 1:31pm, weighing in at 7lbs 1oz and 21inches long. And he had hair, so much bright blonde hair. And all of a sudden, my only care in the world was soaking him in.

My birth story didn't go exactly how I thought it would-- it was much longer. And I didn't expect it to be that intense for that long- although don't hear me say that I thought it was going to be a breeze or anything. But there is not one bit of it I would change. God set up that labor and those midwives and my friends and my husband for such a time as that-- I felt so loved and encouraged-- I felt so supported and I had done it. I came full circle that labor- starting our with joy and excitement, entering into empowered and all "I am woman, hear me roar" which slid right into broken and overcome, only to experience a birth- my baby's birth- as I had never done before and I found myself right back at the beginning-- basking in more joy and excitement than I had ever felt. And I'm still not over it.

Baby Sam's Birth (back)Story... Part 1

Let's start at the top... Throughout this year, I have started making all our bread, we decided to home school Gabe, I've been seen in a long maxi skirt or two, and we just had our baby at home... It might be time to call tree huggers anonymous... :) But really, we haven't like gone off the deep end (if you ask us!) or anything- it's just more been learning and growing and figuring out what's best for our family. For instance, the bread, store bread is horrible for you and making your own is actually beneficial, so that was easy. Homeschooling... been there, explained that. And the skirts, well, try one on and you'll be hooked too :) But the birth- now that's seriously way out there and we totally get that-- actually this time last year, I actually thought that myself!

The really short version of having the baby at home this time starts with insurance... Basically, leading up to Obama care, lots of insurance companies have made their plans dumb, including no maternity rider- which they can do if you have personal plans like we do because Chad owns his own business. So we have good insurance coverage but nothing for maternity which means I get my insurance discount but have to pay it fully out of pocket- there is no deductible or anything like that. So when working with our insurance agent who we really like, he nonchalantly told me about a home birth midwife that their family used and thought we might be interested. I was NOT. So I hit delete and we went on with life, and decided to create a baby birth account and save money all along the way to pay the big huge $10,000+ bill when it was time. And then someone else told us about the same midwife. And then someone else. And then someone else. Like we weren't even asking, but people kept telling us. So we found out we were about 2 seconds pregnant and invited her over. And when she entered our home, her spirit and grace and peace and calm just filled our home. This is one of those people who you just see and feel Christ in- without them even speaking. And my eyes started to open to another way of doing things... and we prayed and prayed about it all for a long time... and by about 16 weeks into the pregnancy, Chad and I both decided we wanted a homebirth. WHhhhaaaa???? (We actually also committed to growing the baby account because remember how baby Jack jumped out of the womb at 35 wks? Well if that happened again, we were headed straight for the hospital for safety/ lungs reasons!)

(And don't worry, despite the homebirth, we still had all sorts of bills we got to pay nonetheless... like blood work, ultra sounds, middle of the night emergency triage visits, etc... HA! Healthcare is so ridiculous, but that is my soap box and I am too tired and sore to climb on it right now.)

So along the way, my midwife came to my house every 3 weeks for the majority of pregnancy and then came to my house once a week for the last several weeks- checking on me, the baby, the heart beat, my belly, blood pressure, urine, etc.... all the same stuff EXCEPT she sat on my couch and talked to me about what I'd been eating and feeling and thinking and wondering too.... and she'd stay for an hour +... and I could email and call and text her directly 24/7. I was BESIDE myself with this care. And then these last few weeks when I've felt horrible and had tons of contractions that'd never turn over into labor, she'd check in on me every single morning and give me some encouragement for the day and suggest things to do and monitor the baby.... seriously? And this is coming from someone who would rate both previous prenatal/ birth/ baby growing situations a 9 out of 10. But this was like a 13. Out of 10. Every time something was up or off, my midwife, Margaret, knew exactly what it was. Sometimes she'd even send me to an in-office ob-gyn for a 2nd opinion and she was always right on with what all the big machines said. She prayed over things and would meditate on me and my baby before making decisions. It was unlike anything I've ever experienced.

I mentioned several times on the blog throughout this pregnancy that I had a great midwife, more details to follow... and this was the reason. I wanted to wait until the baby was born- whether it panned out in-home or in the hospital- because this is such a sensitive subject. There is fear and questions and just the rarity that make people panic-- and I totally get that. I'm a panic-er by nature myself. Chad didn't mind telling people all about it, but I preferred just to keep it on the down low, mainly just so my confidence in our decision couldn't/ wouldn't be swayed by outside opinions. I probably also feared "failure" to some degree if we talked about it like it was a sure thing and then ended up in the hospital bed. But amazingly enough, our mom's handled it quite well and supported us the whole time, although I KNOW they were dying on the inside-- can you imagine your kids telling you they were totally going to do something the opposite way of the normal, safe way, and that there lives and babies were involved?? But again- they loved us and supported us, and probably prayed their brains out too :)

Part 2.... the actual birth to follow....

The Ugly Cry

Oh my did I ever just cry the ugly cry! The little boys are in bed napping, Gabe is working on some school stuff and I'm sitting on my bed with my feet up for a few minutes as my midwife, among other people, have ordered. I usually read my bible study notes or blogs or Facebook until my eyes get really heavy and then I take a deep snooze. It only lasts about 20 minutes before some thought in my brains springs my whole body back to life, but it's the kind of snooze that is so deep and so needed, as a big ole pregnant lady, that I drool and often wake with heart burn, even though I'm not even in a real napping position.

But today is different. Mainly because I stumbled upon this blog post- http://www.stevewiens.com/2013/03/06/these-are-the-lines-of-a-story/
Read it. Cry with me. Because we all know it's true and we all want to feel that truth, if even only for a second.

In my current state- 35+ weeks pregnant with my 3rd baby in as many years, I can assure you I'm at one of the lowest points when it comes to my body-- I hate this part of pregnancy where everything seems to swell over night-- like all of a sudden my face is more round this morning and the extra pounds around my middle are starting to cause my legs to squish like elephant legs... it's not pretty. And I know there are some people that think the pregnant body is absolutely beautiful- I'm just not one of them... mainly since I became the pregnant one.

I used to dream about being pregnant and seriously stare and study pregnant women... this was a good 10 years ago when everything on my body was where it was supposed to be, and probably really tanned as well. You know, important stuff. Not. But at that age, when I saw pregnant women, fully clothes obviously, a quiet peace came over me- for they were charged with growing a human- inside of them. I couldn't think of anything better. Their round belly made me crave it for myself- and I never once saw a chubby face, swollen feet, or stretch marks. I just saw the beautiful woman with child. But now that it's me and it's been me, I see it all much differently. Growing children- beautiful, wonderful children I might add- is really hard on the self-esteem.

I wish I could just see them as my prize- my boys and my bun in the oven- and sometimes I do- but sometimes a backwards glance in the mirror as I climb into the shower or some extra time spent gazing at Easter pictures of myself from yesterday, and I just crumble. Oh the bumps and lumps and bigness. Please tell me the mirror and the camera is lying. But I know it's not.

But reading that article, all I could think about, in light of my own boys, is what good it would do for my heart and for them and their future to give them the power to see it as a good thing. Isn't that when your heart usually follows? What if Max knew from his toddler years that growing a baby was very hard for the mommy and really changed her body BUT that he had to power with his words to encourage and love her. Wouldn't his future wife just love that? What if Jack thought all the changes brought about by pregnancy was beautiful- like so much more beautiful than a taunt body, because it's the aftermath of growing people-- God's people! Don't you think he'd look at women differently if he got this and believed it? Gabe is older, but I think that means I can be more blunt in my teaching with him-- and his heart is so soft, I think he won't forget it this side of heaven. And then, how might it change me if I start speaking this truth to them? Will I be more likely to appreciate this gift of child bearing? Will I see my marks as trophies? I hope so. For I know this gift of motherhood is by far one of the greatest gifts on this earth. I wouldn't change it for anything.

Halloween and our other October Festivities

This year, I did manage to break out a little bit of fall decor-- both inside and outside. But I didn't really manage to capture it on camera... oops! But Max loved the pumpkins, Jack loved the candy corn, and Gabe always appreciated decor :)

We also had a pumpkin painting party with some of our favorite little men, and again... no pictures... but my friend Danielle did capture and blogged about it-- check it out on her blog here: Pumpkin Party Playdate

And of course, we did our annual pumpkin patch visit with the Spivas. We went to a new one- Cagle's Dairy farm not too farm from our house, and got to enjoy a pumpkin patch, a jumping pillow with a special one just for younger kids (yay!), a corn maze, and then a good hay ride that took you to a big open field filled with bon fires-- they even provided sticks and marshmallows. Honestly, the big fires did make me a little nervous with the 4 boys under 4 between us, but with 4 parents on duty we all survived unscathed :) But again... no pictures!

(This was at dinner afterwards... and Max had to have his clothes changed due to a "can't hold it anymore accident" and we're missing baby Grant, so for that reason, this picture doesn't really count...)

Then the weekend before Halloween, we attended the 5th annual Canup fest put on by our dear friends the Canups-- they to a fire pit, smores, food and fixins, lots of fun games for the kids, and even had the GA/ FL game on a big screen outside. And did I mention that is was a costume party? Well it was! I honestly haven't participated in dressing up in years-- but this year Chad and I were the Jim Bob and Michelle Duggar-- it was awesome!!
Reason #1: Because I found an amazing dress at goodwill
Reason #2: Because I seriously LOVE Michelle Duggar-- have you ever heard her talk-- what a heart, what wisdom, what a lady!
Reason #3: Because if didn't fear my insides falling out and my husband running away with no forwarding address, I would SO have 19 kids :)

But just FYI... I DID capture this event and I'd like to make a mention that although I am truly expecting, that is a bath towel up under my dress and NOT my baby belly!!!

Of course, we also concluded the month with some pumpkin carving but unfortunately we had to do it without Gabe :( The month flew by and before we knew it, we had one night to carve the pumpkin before trick-or-treaters were coming and it wasn't a Gabe night/ weekend for us-- bummer! So I did get some cut pictures of the boys and Chad in action but it isn't the same without our big brother.

And lastly, we wrapped up the month with some trick-or-treating with the Prusa's and this year, Max and Lizzy's costumes coordinated!! You should know the Lizzy wanted to be a princess and wanted Max to be Prince Charming but he could NOT be talked out of being Mickey-- he had his mind set on it, and once we laid eyes on what he deemed as the perfect costume, he would so proud every time he slipped with on, which is so unlike him. Lizzy was flexible, PTL, because they were adorable!

And of course, we had a baby cow with us and lil Evie was Raggedy Ann-- it was a cute, fun time! Not near as cold as we expected, either-- win/ win!!  We made it to about 10 houses before Max was ready to go back and hand out candy- he thought that was the true highlight of the night :) Jack thought the lollipops were the highlight.

And just like that, October flew in and flew right back out! We're so grateful for wonderful friends, wonderful weather, wonderful traditions, and our wonderful family. Now onto November and a thankful, grateful focus that will hopefully carry on throughout the year!

Mother of the Year...

When Max was between 12-18 months and disciplining became a normal and necessary part of everyday day (second!) I pretty quickly felt the Lord's prodding to pick my battles because I certainly wasn't going to be able to teach him everything a godly man needed to know before his 2nd birthday.

I landed on 3 main offenses that warranted strong discipline every single time:
1) Disrespect
2) Disobedience
3) Dishonesty

At that point, those became the 3 battles that we fight around the clock, and then we just "correct" other offenses as they happen, without the strong training. So you can catch me saying "That wasn't respectful-- you must show kindness to show others they are important" or "You need to learn to obey Mommy every time so that you can learn to obey God" or "It's important to always tell the truth so others can trust you all the time" at least 100 times a day. And that's just for Max. Jack has now entered this stage as well, so double it-- at least!

(Side note: If you've listened to Andy and Sandra Stanley's recent series, from Northpoint Church, on family, they mention that someone shared those 3 golden rules with them prior to their having children and I've just got to say, that when I listened to that message almost 2 years after the Lord laid those same things on my heart, and I literally wept-- I just love when the Lord impresses His message on His people and then you get confirmation that you're fighting the right fight. A few weeks after that, I was at a ladies night, and talking with my friend Lisa who also fights these same 3 battles plus they added "aggression"and again, I was just moved at how God speaks to moms and parents-- just right in your own heart, but come to find out, He is giving us all the same message in order to succeed in His eyes.)

As a mom, let me just say, that while this is only 3 rules-- A LOT fits into these categories and it is constantly the words on my tongue, like all the live long day, Lord help me! Granted, it also works in my favor because "Max, you are not showing respect to the house when you knock that bat into the wall" also completely makes sense in line with our rules but also helps me protect my house and manage chaos.

My day is filled with loud squeals in order to communicate dislike for my commands, thrashing about to avoid spankings, shouts and guttural growls to display their unhappiness with me, comments of "I'm neber going to obey" and "I'll neber show respect" and "I don't wanna get control-- lots of room sitting and nose to nose conversations with my small people. I use a wooden spoon on their behinds way too often for my mom heart, but God never said that this job was easy. But it only takes one small "victory"to give me the fuel needed to keep on keeping on. One small hug or kiss or "I love you Mommy" also goes a long way :)

But let me just say one more time, I am fighting the fight people, and I am smack worn out! I mean, it's just a constant lesson, a constant battle, and unfortunately for me, constant discipling. (I'm not asking for a pity party-- I totally get that between 2-3 years old, it's HARD and that why parents for generations have been saying what they say about two's and terribles and toddlers, etc... this is just the stage of parenting that I'm in right now and I can't see the other side quite yet.) So on Sunday, all my hard work was given the spot light to shine...

My 6th grade girls that I lead at church followed me downstairs to the kids department because they wanted to see my boys after I picked them up from their class. They we all standing behind me as I stuck my head in my sweet Max's class and said "Maaaxxx!" I picked up his coat and he ran towards me:

And proceeded to screeched the loudest screech with the meanest scrunched up face and then HIT me.

Yep, mother of the year folks-- that's me! Look at me shine!

SAHM: The 1 Year Update

Can you believe I've been home with my kiddies as my full time job for a whole year? Wait, you haven't been keeping up with it? Oh. Well, let me just say, I can NOT believe it and yet totally believe it all at the same time, ha! And to use my new favorite mommying quote, the days have been long, but the year has been so short!

Basically, my life has totally changed-- I am now fully responsible for  my kids around the clock, as well as my home, and parts of my husbands business. I don't ever have to leave the house or clock in elsewhere, which is so awesome, but that's not to say I'm not "working" nonetheless. And I've got to say, the pay is so strange-- it does amazing things for my heart, but my bank account, well, not so much!

I rarely get a moment to myself, and I don't get to think my own thoughts, and I have small people touching me ALL the time. I also feel like the laundry and the kitchen cleaning is never ending-- and sometimes, that just makes me want to go get a job! But there are so many amazing aspects of being "here", doing "this", and putting all my energy and heart into "them"-- I honestly feel like they are my calling-- their hearts and who they are-- their education and how the treat others-- it is what I'm all about right now. And again-- the days are long, but the years arevso short. I pray that when I get to heaven, God looks at me and glances over at my children and smiles and says "well done Lauren, you took this job, your calling, very seriously, and I am very pleased."

It's been a journey for sure-- I've always wanted to be a mom, it's been my dream and I knew I wanted to stay home with them, but people who knew me well wasn't sure I was really cut out for that. But then, when I was pregnant with Jack, oh how the Lord laid in on my heart. Being home with my boys became a burden-- thinking through it and about it and praying over it made me emotional-- it wrecked my heart. So I started praying that God would make it obvious to Chad too, and tell him when it was time.

And then, a year ago, God did just that-- It was my husband who said "it's time for you to come home"-- I know where I was on the ramp of 575 when he said those words, and I will never forget the joy the overcame me at that moment. I liked my job and a really enjoyed my co-workers so so so much-- they are still dear friends-- but I knew my kids needed all of me. During this year, the Lord has provided at every step-  He has reaffirmed this decision over and over- and He's even given me a few things to keep me busy "on the side" (but let's be honest, keeping busy isn't really an issue!)  I do some contract writing and help with booking at The Echo Group. I also take care of invoicing for Chad's company and double the boys in our house by taking care of the Spiva boys on Wednesday. With my SAHM gig, I also get gym time to take care of myself, and I go to BSF weekly where is LOVE the set up and how they lead you to dig into God's word. It's also great for my boys who just love the children's program there.

We don't have a bunch of spare time laying around and usually once I crawl into bed, I'm out before the lights are, but let me just say-- oh, how I'm exactly where the Lord has me right now. And I am so at peace.

My friend Anna, who was given the joy of becoming a SAHM just a few months before me sent me this quote not long ago-- it couldn't sum up my work as a mom any better: it puts into words why I've been called home!

The art of doing one thing well

"There is magic in doing one thing, and doing it well, with the full force of our focus. What if we allowed ourselves the freedom to become engrossed in one task, one project or one conversation, really giving it our best? Rather than saying yes to everything, imagine the gratification in saying no to things that distract us from our purpose, in favor of saying yes only to the most important things. Then, instead of wondering if we’ve really done our best, we’ll be gratified to know that we have."

- From "The Art of Doing One Thing Well" in today's Manner & Lane 

(And again, THANK YOU Chad for working hard and providing for our family so that I can be here. I coudn't be more appreciative of you and your hard work if I tried.)

A Weary Mama

I think it all started on Mother's Day-- it poured rain all day, we ran from church to lunch to my aunt's to visit with my grandparents, all without any zzzz's on my children's part. The kiddos were already sleep deprived from the rest of the weekend, and Chad was sleep deprived too from a missions retreat, so I spent the day doing my normal mom-thing-- packing bags, dressing people, feeding people, shushing people, removing fussy people from the crowds, meeting needs etc.... meanwhile my husband sat off to the side of every situation in a sleepy haze. By the time the day came to a close, I was somewhere between pouty and just plain mad. It was the classic "expectations not met" scenario-- I had the flowers, the card, and the gift certificate to Renew Day Spa, but I was craving a break-- just some relief or down time. As I've stated a MILLION times, I absolutely adore being a mom, but it's so 24/7 and these people just always need pieces of me, and quite frankly, even more so now that I'm a stay-at-home mom, I just need a break from time to time. And for some reason, I just assumed Mother's Day would be that day. It wasn't really a logical expectation considering the days plans and also the fact that babies don't really compute the whole "it's mom's day off" deal, but I "expected" it none-the-less and was severely disappointed.

When we woke up on Monday, we were at the beginning of the week again-- we hadn't seen much of Chad over the weekend and now it was time for him to be gone all week again-- arghh! I should've read the moods, I should've seen the signs, I should've stayed home-- but instead, I got my people together and cleaned and beds made, I put Jack down for his morning nap as I made lists, paid bills, planned the week, and got a strategy together for some errands. Jack's 1st birthday party is just around the corner and I had some stuff to do to prepare, so with my list, some coupons, and my cute boys, we set out after the morning nap. First we went to Michael's and things were a little harry. Jack was screeching and Max wanted to walk by himself but not obey-- I felt my blood pressure rising, so we headed to the register only to end up with a new cashier who literally took 10 minutes to ring up my $20 worth of things. I wanted to just throw money at him and leave. As we got to the van, Max got a spanking for not obeying in the parking lot (aka scaring the _______ out of his mother) and we hopped in and I just breathed for a minute-- in and out in and out. Certainly I could regain composure long enough to make it into Trader Joe's across the street for a few things and then we'd head home and skip the rest of the errands.

I did a little self talk (this seems to be happening more and more lately... is it a sign of insanity?) and asked the Lord for extra patience and grace with these small beautiful boys, since they were tired, and we were all cranky. Again, I had my list and all the organization for a successful trip. I got my cart and strapped Jack in, Max got a small cart to push along behind me and off we went. Max immediately began running into my heels with his little cart, because he was watching himself push that thing, rather than where he was going. As I reminded myself about the extra grace, I implored with him to watch where he was going and he seemed to understand-- for a second-- until he ran into me again. We parked in front of the dairy section for a minute- Max picked his yogurt and put it in his little cart and I picked a greek yogurt for me and put it beside Jack. I then turned to grab milk when I heard a big splat-- I looked back to see the tub of greek yogurt on the floor-- all over the floor... and up the cart... and up the back of my legs. I didn't say anything, I just walked over to the sample lady and asked for some toweling and cleaned up the mess. It was at that moment that Jack started crying hysterically. I have NO idea why. I hadn't responded or let my frustration show-- I was befuddled to say the least. I picked him up quick and cuddled him up, shushing and loving him, telling him it was ok-- but he just screamed and screamed.

I faced him outward on my hip, turned on the next aisle for the last thing on my list and asked Max to follow me. And he freaked. Once again, there is no explanation, but he just lost it, ramming his cart into me, growling these guttural growls at me-- ones I've only heard on episodes of The Baby Story when women are in labor. He was crying and thrashing about, and Jack was still hysterical and I had no idea how we were going to get out of the store. I bent down to Max's level and told him to stop, I even spanked him IN the store, which I've never done before, about 2 feet from a stranger, which I've never done before, but to no avail. Poor stranger. And I looked up and all I could see where young, clean, childless people, all judging with their judgey eyes, holding their organic food. We made it to the cash register closest to the door and I told Max to go stand outside the door and wait for me-- but he just clung to my leg and screamed while Jack clung to my side and screamed and that cashier said "at least they'll take good naps later." He was like 20. I just smiled as him, feeling the hot tears come to my eyes. We paid and we walked to the car. Somehow we made it-- both boys buckled in, the few things I managed to buy in the car, and the mama slumped down in her seat. What just happened in there? My kids have never acted like this before. And there wasn't really an explanation. I think we all just had a simultaneous meltdown-- an emotional and mental breakdown.

I have never before wanted to just leave my children and run away. I have never before wished that there was a drive thru for stiff drinks-- I don't even like stiff drinks! I have never before wanted it all to just disappear but in that moment I was so mad, and frustrated, and embarrassed and at the end of myself, that I just sat in my van and cried as we drove home. I couldn't even call Chad because how could my words or the explanation of the situation express what was going on in my inside-- I just needed a mommy-time out. I needed to be off duty. But that just doesn't happen in these parts. At least not without some major pre-planning and preparing.

I can't really say that yesterday was much better on my inside, but my boys were sweet as sugar, and I managed to make it to the gym alone, and by bed time, I was coming around. I curled up in a quilt and turned on HGTV and it was an episode of celebrity houses or something like that-- not my favorite show, but I watched it for a few minutes because I didn't have the energy to change it or to think about what I wanted to change it to. They showed Melissa Rycroft's house and I noticed in a couple of the camera views that she had bibles all over her house. I seriously had no idea who she was/ is, but she was a young mom, cute as can be, and maybe a christian so I googled her. I learned about her time on The Bachelor (I had stopped watching by her season) and Dancing with the Stars (I had also stopped watching that show before she was on it) and I noticed that she has a new reality show about her and her husband called "Melissa and Tye" on CMT that started on April 20th. I googled the show, and found full length versions and began watching. Immediately I was laughing and relating-- except with the whole famous/ move across the country part. But by the second episode she was having to be a single parent 4 days a week while her husband worked in Dallas. And oohhhh, how she was weary! As she talked, I got choked up with her. I was feeling her feelings-- how awesome it is to be a mom, but how it can just take everything out of you sometimes.

At the end of that episode, her husband read a verse from James to her: "Blessed it the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love Him." James 1:12 Then he said a quote his Dad used to to day: "If He'll lead you to it, He'll lead you through it."

I just studied this passage recently and never once did it occur to me that my dream come true mommy gig could be a trial-- but when I heard this, it clicked-- it is in the normalcy of life and it's many blessings that we get to the end of ourselves more often than not-- certainly some trials are much bigger-- life threatening, scary, needs for provision-- but most of the time, it's just life. And just another way God was working to get to the end of me, so I would start relying on Him. So as great as this mommy job is, sometimes it's a matter of persevering in the midst of the trial, regardless of how tiny and insignificant it is. And I can't help but think about how I could use those moments, more than others, to live out Christ's love in front of my boys. I'm one weary mama, leaning into the Lord, and more thankful than ever for these small people and their "trials".

(Note: That show is AWESOME, you should SO watch it!! Catch up online the set your DVR

Stylin and Profilin

I always laugh at my friend Anna, when she tells me her antics surrounding raising girls and their opinions about their attire-- she is always keeping track of bows, making sure they're in the hair, disputing about what matches and what shoes will be worn, and well, I'm just raising boys who love a nice puppy/ sport/ or Disney character on their clothes and that is that.

Or so I thought!

Uncle Eli may be gone, but his influence is NOT...... you see Uncle Eli is SUPER stylish-- I mean that, no pun or joke included. He has more clothes right this second than  most people will have their entire lives, all added together. One of the things that Max clued in on was his sock/ shoe choices-- Max knew that with certain tennis shoes for certain events, Eli would wear tall socks. And usually they were blue and usually they matched his shoe strings. Max would notice EVERY time Eli wore them. And eventually, when we were at the store, Max needed "big tall socks like E-yi". Max also has this pair of red gym shorts with a football, baseball, and a soccer ball on the leg, and they are his favorite, because Eli has red gym shorts. Chad's mom found these for Max 2 summers ago- long before they actually fit Max- but he has always known they were waiting for him in his drawer. Well let's just say that these big tall socks and these red shorts have created a little chaos around here....

It started on Wednesday when Max woke up from his nap- I pulled out some shorts for him to put on but he NEEDED his red shorts-- I quickly said that they didn't match his shirt he was already wearing and that he didn't have a shirt that matched his red shorts anyway. He stopped me dead in my tracks, looked me square in the eye and said "Yes I do- my red Lightening Mcqueen shirt matches my red shorts." I didn't even know what to say-- while technically, they did indeed match as in the same color, I wasn't quite sure how to explain that red on red wasn't exactly the "matching" we were going for. So I resorted to my original explanation-- we already had on a shirt and his navy shorts matched it, and he could pick that outfit another time-- and he went with it AS long as I conceded to the big tall socks, with navy on them, pulled straight up to his knee-- like Eli. And every few minutes, he would stop and re-adjust his socks, pulling them as tall as his possibly could.

And it was with that, that I realized that Max was beginning to weigh in on his fashion and it wasn't going to be good. But I must say, I didn't expect round 2 to strike so suddenly....

The next day, after our morning trip to the gym, Chad called and his day had changed a bit and he was wondering if we could meet him for lunch and bring him his basketball clothes-- so we ran into the grocery store quick, stopped by the house long enough for me to get Jack's lunch together, put the groceries away, and pack a bag for Chad, and started back to the car. I called for Max to come down and he said "help please Mom"-- we've been working on that for like 383837 years-- the asking for help first, instead of whining-- so I put my stuff down and went upstairs. He was in his room, with his red shorts and his red Lightening McQueen shirt and he wanted help putting them on because "Daddy would love his red shorts."

In my head, I began self talk immediately. "Lauren, while your son is a reflection of you, his grooming and his (non-matching) outfits don't make you who you are. Are you really going to be such a control freak that you can't let him be himself? And he's so proud and so excited-- are you going to squash that? It's his Dad for pete's sake-- why do you care what anyone else thinks? Get over yourself! Look at those precious eyes-- and those cheeks.... and that smile.... he's waiting for your approval Lauren. He's WAITING..."

So I went with "that's a great idea Max-- I'll help you quick then we've got to go meet Daddy" while biting my tongue just a bit, and smiling myself on the inside at this little goober :)  He had to wear tall socks again too-- like E-yi.... and his glasses (like Gabe).

And he was BY FAR the cutest kid at the Chick-Fil-A-- and his Daddy loved the look he was rocking.

This is just the beginning of his favorite shorts-- the hat and the shades-- the big tall socks-- and it's also the beginning of him asserting his opinion on his fashion, among other things. I just pray for wisdom to know which battles are worth fighting-- I'm so glad I realized this was NOT one of those before it was too late. Could you imagine messing with the smile on that face??

Baby Jack's Dedication

On Sunday, our new church (over a year old at this point... so maybe more of a toddler than new....) had it's first baby dedication and we got to be a part of it. It is so special and emotional for me as the mama of this precious boy and his Daddy got a little teary too. You know, when God hands you little people and entrusts them to you, it's just so much of a bigger deal than you can ever imagine. It is a constant battle of the flesh vs. Christ in us, trying to love, guide, direct, and train up all three of our boys. More than anything, we want them to know Christ and the power of his love- how they are a part of God's plan, and how accepting Jesus as their Savior and receiving God's gift of eternal life is more important than anything on this earth. My throat gets tight just typing this. We take this job very seriously and we proud to stand in front of our church and commit to raising Jack for the LORD. We are honored and humbled that the congregation stood with us, promising to help.

Here is what Chad read out loud to Jack:

Baby J, We promise to raise you in a way that encourages your love for Christ and a personal relationship with Him, first and foremost. We pray that you discover the gifts God has given you, and that you use them for His glory. We hope to instill Godly character and integrity in you, through our personal relationships with Him, and we commit to love and pray for you unconditionally. 

Here is the verse that we pray for you:  

Teach me your way, LORD, that I may rely on your faithfulness; give me an undivided heart, that I may fear your name. I will praise you, Lord my God, with all my heart; I will glorify your name forever. For great is your love toward me; you have delivered me from the depths, from the realm of the dead. Psalm 86:11-13 

And here are some cute pictures-- most of them are in action and capture us in all of our glory. But let's be honest- it just doesn't get much cuter than my 4 guys.

Jack was so funny- trying to dive bomb out of my arms, lurching for his brother's hair, and even banchee screaming for the whole congregation to enjoy. Max was acting like a two year old, jumping around, poking Gabe, and even pulling on my clothes, while Gabe stood their trying to listen to what Chad had to say. I couldn't help but giggle, with tears in my eyes, at that sweet moment. I just loved it!

Baby Food and my not so soapy soapbox

Ok, I mentioned a while back that I had a soap box that I would go up on in the future.... well guess what... the future is now! Are you so excited? Ok, really, it's not that huge of a deal, and I'm not going to preach too much, BUT I do want to tell you about making your own baby food and why I think it's so important.

I made all of Max's baby food and kept sugar completely out of his diet until his first birthday. (He has made up for lost time with this, I assure you.) I was very slow to introduce shellfish and nuts, since there are so many server allergies when it comes to these foods, and he has yet to have juice or any of those drinks that just add more unnecessary sugar to his diet. It has proven to be great for many many many reasons, but here are a few of the obvious:

1) I know what's in all of his food
2) He has been "really sick" (beyond just a cold) twice-- and once was when I gave him the flu :(
3) He's a good eater- and even now as the picky two year old stage is upon us, he'll drink smoothies and veggies pouches stuffed full of veggies and he loves them
4) He eats what we eat- I rarely fix him his own deal, besides lunch when he requests a peanut butter sandwich EVERY day!
5) Max is a fruitopian and will eat endless amounts of fruit any and every day-- berries are the best thing that ever happened to him... besides me of course!

A couple other great reasons for making baby food-- it's easy, I always have it on hand and can freeze it/ let it thaw, so meals are ready when I'm ready. I don't have to run out quick because I'm out of jars-- and if we do get low on food before I've had a chance to re-stock our freezer, I can just look around my kitchen and find something to mash up. Also it's SO cheap compared to baby food. I can make a month's worth of food for $20, easy! And even now, as Jack branches out to more and more, I can just add another food anytime I'm in the babyfood making mood, and it just adds to our stock and his variety.

Now I will also tell you that I began food with Max REALLY early- more on Dr. Denmark's plan as Kellee recommended to me-- even before the pediatrician gave me the green light. With Jack, I waited until he was 6 months, just because I was busier, and Jack always seemed so full after nursing. Jack was also a WAY better sleeper early on (even though I had to re-train him recently, he started out good, ha!) and with Max, who never slept more than 3-4 hours at a time until he was 5 months, I was so desperate for sleep, that I was open to anything! So with that being said, Max has definitely been healthier than Jack- Jack has been sick more-- ear infections, RSV, etc... and seems to take longer to kick colds, while Max is just rarely sick. And the only other difference besides Jack arriving early, that I can think of is when they started food, and how quickly I introduced those nutrients.

So here's the quick "how-to" on making baby food....
1) Go to this website, it's my best friend-- soak it up, love it, and print all the pdf's available... that's what I do :)
2) Find your blender and/or food and some ice cube trays-- these are my favorite because of the top and they stack easily in the freezer:  http://www.amazon.com/Baby-Food-Freezer-White-Green/dp/B0038JE5Y2/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1328126730&sr=8-3
3) Begin!

You either bake the veggie or cook it on the stove top first-- this is also that case for fruits as well, up to a certain age. In this example, I'm doing butternut and acorn squash which are Jack's favorite!

First cut it in half and scoop out the seeds

Then place it face down in a baking dish, and add about an inch of water around it

Bake for about 40 minutes at 400 degrees until the skin is puckery

Once it done and cooled, then scrap it out of the skin- either into a blender or food processor
(I do blender when the baby is younger and you add more water so that the puree is finer-- then it's easy to pour into the ice cube trays. Once the baby gets older and is ready for thicker food, I use a food processor and just drop it into the ice cube trays)

Then you pour it into ice cube trays-- I pour some into bowls for the fridge for that day/ the next day, and then into a couple tupperware jars that I use for "to-go" food if we're going to be out. (I do freeze the to-go jars and just keep about 6 on hand at any given time.)

Then once it's frozen, I run water over the back, pop them out and put it in zip locks bags, labeled with the food and the date, and put it back in the freezer and we're ready to go for the next month or so!

With this squash I mixed in a banana too, so when it comes to meal time, Jack gets about 4-5 cubes (4-5 oz) and it's fruits and veggies.

If you scour that website or other books/ websites, you'll find lots of ways to do it, the step by steps, and you'll learn the rules-- for instance don't use the water you cook carrots in because the bad stuff gets in that water, but to cut corners you can find apple sauce and pumpkin that are 100% pure, at the grocery store-- the ingredients label will say "apples and water" or "pumpkin"-- I use those and mix them in with stuff. (I have made applesauce a couple times, but the peeling of apples takes a long time, and I love the natural applesauce I've found.)

This does take time, but I usually just devote a nap time every 4 weeks or so and we're good to go... and again, all the pros make the work (and the mess) worth it.

(AND I'm not sure how this works, but usually I can talk Chad into helping me with cleaning up or even doing it all... maybe it's because I'm saving him $$ and giving his little people healthy stuff... or maybe it's just because he thinks I'm awesome... regardless of the reason, it's a good thing!)

All Clean!

My Max, a budding toddler, is giving me something to think about or work through each and everyday. His brain is unreal. And I know I'm biased, but come spend a couple hours will him and you'll be scratching your head too. He's perceptive and funny- he's creative and stubborn- his memory is UN-REAL- and he's just plain smart (and a smarty pants). And he's kind of rotten- which can be blamed on me for 2 reasons:

1) He is just like me- like all my daily struggles are his- you know, strong-willed, control freak, know-it-all, mouthy, etc.... Lucky for me (and everyone around me) the Holy Spirit lives inside of me and continues to reign me in daily... ok hourly... ok minute-ly. But seeing as though the little Max-man hasn't quite figured out salvation and asking Jesus into his heart, I am his Holy Spirit, and let's just say I'm not super awesome at that because he's so darn cute, which bring me to my next point...

2) I just love him too much and I let him get away with stuff-- in ONE 24 hour span my mom and my husband pointed this out to me (again, for like the millionth time)- my mom called me a marshmallow when it comes to the child and Chad accused me of being "soft". Hello, name calling-- I'm a word's person folks-- why they didn't choose words like "grace-filled" and "patient" is because I'm way passed those things. At least once a day I can be caught laughing when I should be spanking. But have you seen his eyes?

Ok, anyway, I'm soft- it is what it is. And no one expected it of me-- I used to be known as the bulldog by all the students in my youth group. (And even one of them told me that I'd lost it.) But motherhood does all sorts of crazy (wonderful) things to you-- and for me, that included making me soft. And I'll say it a million times: It's easy to be a great mom to a 2 year old until you actually have one!  I'm telling you, I was mom of the year, every year (in my head) until I had kids. And since then, humility has been slapping me upside the head, instead :) 

I did receive a pep-talk this morning from my Kellee (I think I need to do a post just on her so that every time I mention her name- which is every time there is any sort of milestone in my life- I can just link to her) and I do need to re-visit "What the Bible Says about Child Training" and this week, I did start carrying THE wooden spoon in my purse-- and now it is time to step it up and actually implement all those things.... but until then (because I can't implement right now-he's sleeping) I thought I'd share one more funny thing this child did, that may or may not have warranted discipline:

Yesterday morning I asked Max if he had to potty before I hopped in the shower. (He did not.) Then I came back 10 minutes later to find him sitting in a puddle of pee and milk. On my couch. He was watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and had peed (and continued to sit there?!) and had also laid his milk cup on it's side and let is all drip out. 

Note #1: Max's new thing is to pee on himself instead of using the potty because "I can't want to potty" and so after much prodding from my husband, I  have finally decided to spank him for blatant accidents like that because the child MORE than gets the whole potty drill and just chooses to pee elsewhere because he's a stubborn ole poot! 

Note #2: Since Max could hold his own bottle/ cup, Chad has been adamant about setting it upright on a sturdy piece of furniture after drinking mainly because he doesn't want anything spilled on his side of the bed- but this transferred to the rest of the house as well, because who wants spoiled sticky milk anywhere? Not us.

So I sent the wet Max up to the bathroom while I got out the stain remover spray, followed by the upholstery cleaning spray and cleaned the couch and scrubbed.  I left the spray and the rag on the couch in case it needed a second cleaning and headed upstairs to spank Max (BLAH!!), wipe him down, and get him in new dry clothes. About that time, Jack woke up, ready to eat. So with a fresh and clean Max, I grabbed the baby and nursed him before heading back to the living room.

When I came back, Max was BEAMING- he was PROUD- and I'm pretty sure he knew it could go either way- there was a 50% chance that I too would be proud of him and there was a 50% chance that he would be in trouble. He looked at me with those bright baby blues, awaiting a decision.

"I cleaned my car, Mommy, it's all clean!"

So, he knows he's not supposed to touch any type of cleaner and he did douse my entire couch in cleaner and when I picked up the car later, he had sprayed so much cleaner in the car that it ran down my leg, but in that moment, I was just so in love with his brain, that I too was proud. And it really made me laugh!

But if you come to my house anytime soon, don't sit on that end of the couch-- it's still soaked.

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On a totally separate note, especially if you're a Mommy or hoping to be one, check this blog post out:  http://lifewithahollandaccent.blogspot.com/2011/10/ultimate-interview.html

She is a friend of a friend and I've been following her funny stories for a while- but what she had to say today got me-- what would you have to say in an interview?