Baby Fever

I'll admit it, the thought crosses my mind multiple times a day. I have baby fever! What I wouldn't give to hear that newborn cry again, so tiny and new. To smell the sweet baby skin, to hold a little bundle of joy in my arms, I crave it. I long for those chubby little legs and the late night feedings, the endless piles of blankets and bibs, every bit of it. I'm prepared for the sleepless nights and the bags under my eyes, I don't care about those things, I just want another sweet baby to smooch!

We all know that isn't going to happen, so today at the park, I took time to just sit and watch each of my three beautiful children. They have developed their own personalities, so different from each other, and it's absolutely fascinating. They have lots of things in common, they're all very polite, very compassionate, and they love each other very much. The relationships they have with each other are enough to bring me to tears, they make me so proud. I hope to be not only their mom, but their best friend one day. After all, they get their best qualities from me.

I know you can't see her face in this picture, but Laila is a thinker. She's constantly lost in her own thoughts, a world where she's comfortable, and free. I wish, sometime, just for a minute I could see what she sees. She's grown beyond her years, diabetes will do that to a child. The responsibility that lies on her shoulders is greater than that of most adults, and I know she can handle it. She is the oldest, and acts like she's a grown adult! I have to remind her, constantly, to be child! Go play, enjoy being carefree and irresponsible! Make a mess and clean it later. Laila would rather read a book, draw a picture, or practice school work. She reminds me of myself at her age, with her nose constantly stuck in a book.

I can only dream of being as happy as Kenadi is. This child has not a care in the world, and she is as free as a bird. Her thoughts fly to the furthest away planet and back again, and her imagination is inspiring. She is creative and mothering in a way I hope she sees me. She gets so lost in play, she forgets what she was doing half the time, she's the total opposite of her big sister, and a true middle child. She is a big sister to her brother when Laila's at school, but when Laila comes home each day, she worships the ground Laila steps on. Watching her today reminded me just how gentle and precious she really is. I have to remind myself not to rush her to grow up.

Dustin, Jr. is everything I never knew I always wanted. He took my breath away the second he arrived, and he continues to do so every single day of my life. I never dreamed having a son would be like this. After two girls, I wasn't prepared for dinosaurs, trucks, or Buzz Lightyear, but I couldn't imagine my life without it. He is very OCD, very routine and structured, he would watch Toy Story (1, 2, or 3) on repeat if I allowed it, and he is only affectionate on his terms. Today, he played alone almost the entire day, and it made me smile. Being the youngest, he spends his days sharing everything he owns, including me. Playing alone at the park meant he didn't have to share, he did his own thing and he loved every minute of it. I do my best to enjoy him to the fullest, because he's my last baby, and my only son.

Another Year Older!

This is the third year in a row I took my kids to the same park in mid-January to feed the ducks and play on the jungle-gym. We enjoyed 70+ degree weather, it was gorgeous! I had to document our annual trip with a photo! I'm sad to say they don't all fit in each other's lap on the slide anymore, but they had a blast trying! They're growing like weeds! Here is a recap of the three years we've done so far.

2013

2012

2011

Wow! They look so different, and so much the same! It's amazing how much can change in a year!

Taking A Break

It's been nearly two months since my last post. I have so much to say, and yet, nothing at the same time. I've taken a break from life, from going out with friends, from defining myself by who I hang out with and the choices I feel obligated to make.

It feels good. It feels damn good.

Over the past couple of months, Dustin and I have done a lot with our relationship as a couple and as a family. We've made it a point to include our children in more of the conversations we have about our future, we ask their input and really consider their opinions and feelings. I have to remind myself children are people too, with good days and bad days, and with feelings that matter. They're not only students, but teachers as well. Each child has taught me how to better parent the next, how to be patient, loving, and kind. I constantly remind myself to be the mom I want them to have, the mom I want them to remember as they grow older and become parents themselves.

Recently, Dustin Jr. transitioned from a crib to a toddler bed. I fully expected it to be a rough road, he's very structured and doesn't react well to change. Luckily, it was Buzz Lightyear to the rescue, and he adores his new bed. As Dustin and I disassembled the crib, I caught myself feeling a wave of emotions I thought I had already conquered. That crib, which is still sitting in my garage, belonged first to Laila, second to Kenadi, and last to my son. I thought I was prepared for it, I had convinced myself that after nearly 8 years of staring at the same piece of furniture, it was time for it to go. Wrong. What I wasn't prepared for were the flashbacks. As I ran my hand along the railing and felt Laila's teeth marks from when we lived in the apartment in Michigan, the first tear of many fell down my cheek. When I spotted the formula stains Kenadi left on the base board of the crib from when we lived in our old house, a dozen more tears followed. Finally, as I changed the sheet on the mattress, I saw the streaks of black permanent marker my son had left one day, here in his bedroom in this very house, and I cried. Hard. Not for the loss of this crib, or my children's baby years, but for the end of that stage in our lives, and my time as a parent.

In addition to being handsome, my son has also become quite the artist! He has colored on nearly all my cream colored walls with an assortment of colored crayons! Rest assured, he's not the only child to have decorated my walls, my friend's daughter has also helped. I decided it was due time to clean up the walls with a fresh coat or two of paint. Saturday afternoon I cracked open the can, got my roller ready, and went to town! The first few walls had just a few markings, but once I made my way to the living room. I found a whole canvas of artwork. Looking back, I probably should have photographed it so I won't ever forget, but at the time I was in a hurry. I smiled to myself, (let's not try and kid anyone, I cried then, too) and thought of all the good times I've had in the years we've spent turning this house into a home. I've created such a relationship with my neighbor and friend, I've literally watched our kids grow up together. Our youngest kids have been born since our friendship began, and the kids have accomplished so many milestones together that painting over those memories from our children nearly broke my heart.

Good things are coming, new adventures await us, I can feel it in my bones. The stars are going to align and take us to a new, uncharted land. I have to believe it, or it will never come true. As long as I keep my chin up, my heart in the right place, and settle for nothing less than what I deserve, I will be unstoppable. My marriage will flourish, my children will grow and be successful and my life will be complete.

Until next time.