I enrolled BK3 into a gymnastics class for boys. I had been given many good referrals from trusted sources, but had been holding out. One day, I taught him how to do a cartwheel and when I walked away, he actually practiced on his own. Shocker! So we started in January, and he loves it. I'm elated that he's getting some skilled coordination help, muscle tone, and knowledge of gym basics, which I loved and still love to this day. Flips are fun, and I'm thankful I can still manage to show a few moves myself. So begins the crossing paths from being a dance school owner/instructor to a mommy. The first day, I learned we can "view" the class the entire time - cool. That's new to me, since for every activity I ever did growing up, there rarely was a viewing window. I have them in my studio, however I also have mini blinds installed, and we close them anytime it's needed. I'm an advocate for sending your child in and letting them learn, grow, love, without being under our watchful eye...however I do understand why it's important nowadays with all of the crazy folk out there.
The first few weeks, my viewing was minimal because of Briggs' and Grayson's pleas for attention. I was a bit thankful, in the midst of being pestered by Daddy to "take as many videos as you can!" because I felt just a little weird watching every move my child made. I even had to watch myself a few times as the fellow moms yelled TO their children from the viewing box, "straighten your legs!", "do the cartwheels like you do them at home!", "pay attention!"....gosh. This is my first run at this, and if this is how all of my child's activities are going to go, then I'll need ear muffs. When my kids screw up, I laugh. Because right now, the screw ups are rather mild. And they're learning. And I know they NEED to learn, in order to grow. I am certain that the screw ups will intensify, and then it will be my turn to actually cry over it. For now, I laugh. For now, I'm thankful that it's just BK3 getting clocked in the head by some kid's legs who's executing a not-so-perfectly done cartwheel, because he left his station to go tell Coach "Hey, he needs help with his donkey kicks". Cool B, pay attention to your own task...K? K. The coach is great, and again, I'm thankful my child is learning some great skills from a great teacher. Trusting is hard. But it's necessary.
This past Saturday, we took Bk3 to his Kindergarten screening. Kindergarten. My endless mommy-son time will soon be over. It's a pit in my stomach that I'm having a tough time absorbing. My sweet first born will soon be starting real school, and my days will be cut so short. So starts the next 13 years of his life in "school", which I just dreamed about the days before he was born. And now it's here. He spent about 45 minutes with a teacher from the school, and when he came out to us, he seemed 2 years older already. Then the nice lady told us that the subject of most of their conversation was "Deer Poop", and I immediately relaxed. No wedding planning yet...thank you Jesus. I'm not sure how I managed to keep anxious anyways, with Grayson exploding juice boxes all over their cafeteria or eating the ENTIRE orange crayon at the coloring station. Briggs toured the playground, thankfully. Lots of thanks....lots of thanks.
I'm thankful that I'm able to concentrate on listening to each one of my sons, although Grayson only yells NO, Mama, Uvas (Grapes), and Ouch!...so we can mainly assume Bk3 and Briggs. They are becoming such sweet little individuals. They love different foods, colors, activities, sayings, and they have different modes of affection. I have prayed for patience a lot in the last few weeks, and I see many times throughout the day how God grants me the opportunity to practice it. Briggs wants to "Stand on my tippy toes" to pee however gets stage fright for 3 minutes until I surrender and say "SIT ON THE TOILET!". Thankful the bed isn't wet, though...again, thankful. I held a sweet baby girl today, and had to give her back due to my fear of getting pregnant just by the gooey-ness of baby fever. No Carrie. NO. NOT RIGHT NOW. I'm sure my relatives are thankful...again...thankful
Just another day to give the glory where it's needed. God has blessed us so much - and I learn every day how my job as a mom is to pass that along. The red birds that flood my window views are gentle reminders of the ones who love me so much, residing in the best place to be, Heaven. I have thought a lot in the last few weeks about keeping strength, and I have to owe it to my own upbringing. To my parents who worked so hard for me. As I should do for my own family. As we all should do for each other, every day. And when we take just a second to take a deep breath, we notice all of the glorious things that make us smile, like deer poop or a gym viewing window - for that, I am forever thankful.
Monday, February 1, 2016
Saturday, January 2, 2016
So long 2015!
Where did 2015 go?
I had been looking forward to our much needed Christmas break for many reasons: days off were hard to come by over the last few months; bed times and bath times were few and far between with me working nights, and I wanted to share in those special times; I absolutely LOVE holiday food; family is important, and I was anxious to spend time with everyone.
With all the rain we have had, the energy levels in the little guys were pushing me to limits I had never seen before. And that was just by day 3. Briggs is reminding us ALL about the torrential 3's, Grayson has a jump on his terrible 2's and BK3 all of a sudden thinks he runs our house - and he means it. Give one of them the wrong color plate, and the food is gonna hit the fan - or the window, or me. Each day, I pray for super powers to read their minds, and although I'm getting closer, I still can't decipher who wants Mickey or the Hulk on their cup this morning.
Christmas came and went. After working 3 hours on Briggs' stocking the night before Christmas Eve, I finished it. Year 3, and he finally got his stocking. Our living room looked like it threw up gift wrap and toys, cardboard boxes and plastic. I still don't think I'm anywhere near close to having it all in it's own "spot." But I'm ok with that too. We succeeded in our annual Christmas day marathon with 4 stops before noon arrived. My kids were champs - except for the moment that the B's decided it'd be a good time to ask great - grandmother, "Do you have any MORE presents for us?". If I could've shoved a cinnamon roll into their mouths any faster, I would have... Instead, I used the opportunity as a car-ride home conversation. Not sure if it worked or not - we'll see next year.
Ringing in the new year was a whole new dynamic this year. We had several friends and their children over to our house, and I got a quick glimpse into the next several years. The kids were wild - and I loved every bit of it. I know that I'll blink, and they'll be at the age where "staying home isn't cool, Mom." So I tried to grasp every bit of it that I could. We had a great time.
Many people challenged me to think of 15 great things in 2015. So here they are:
1. We found a new church parish that we love.
2. Briggs and Brannan became much better "friends".
3. Grayson makes me laugh every single day.
4. A more settled year with my studio.
5. A very successful year with my dancers.
6. Good health for my Papi - he'll be 99 in March.
7. Brannan got the truck of his dreams.
8. Our home seems a little more "Home-ish" this year.
9. I became closer with several people, who I can now consider family.
10. No more Bottles.
11. Briggsy is out of diapers.
12. No more formula.
13. Grayson started school at BPECC, and I love all of my boys' teachers.
14. My boys have begun to show me a tiny glimpse into real "Boy-hood" (I'm not sure if I like it).
15. I did not deliver a child OR get pregnant in 2015.
I have had more than one person ask me if they can list #15 as one of THEIR top 15's...
I am learning that with each year, time passes more quickly. I wish I could freeze my boys at this age, as they are beyond fun, adventurous, and spontaneous. I laugh every single day. I can only hope that my resolution to make more time for them sticks. I am understanding that the simplest gifts from God are the one's that carry the most impact. I look outside every day and at least once, catch a glimpse of a red bird eavesdropping on our adventures. It makes my heart full, because I know that my Dad, Brannan's Dad, and others are just as "along for the ride" as I am. So here's to 2016 - its adventures, its excitement, and its challenges. The Webb's are ready!
I had been looking forward to our much needed Christmas break for many reasons: days off were hard to come by over the last few months; bed times and bath times were few and far between with me working nights, and I wanted to share in those special times; I absolutely LOVE holiday food; family is important, and I was anxious to spend time with everyone.
With all the rain we have had, the energy levels in the little guys were pushing me to limits I had never seen before. And that was just by day 3. Briggs is reminding us ALL about the torrential 3's, Grayson has a jump on his terrible 2's and BK3 all of a sudden thinks he runs our house - and he means it. Give one of them the wrong color plate, and the food is gonna hit the fan - or the window, or me. Each day, I pray for super powers to read their minds, and although I'm getting closer, I still can't decipher who wants Mickey or the Hulk on their cup this morning.
Christmas came and went. After working 3 hours on Briggs' stocking the night before Christmas Eve, I finished it. Year 3, and he finally got his stocking. Our living room looked like it threw up gift wrap and toys, cardboard boxes and plastic. I still don't think I'm anywhere near close to having it all in it's own "spot." But I'm ok with that too. We succeeded in our annual Christmas day marathon with 4 stops before noon arrived. My kids were champs - except for the moment that the B's decided it'd be a good time to ask great - grandmother, "Do you have any MORE presents for us?". If I could've shoved a cinnamon roll into their mouths any faster, I would have... Instead, I used the opportunity as a car-ride home conversation. Not sure if it worked or not - we'll see next year.
Ringing in the new year was a whole new dynamic this year. We had several friends and their children over to our house, and I got a quick glimpse into the next several years. The kids were wild - and I loved every bit of it. I know that I'll blink, and they'll be at the age where "staying home isn't cool, Mom." So I tried to grasp every bit of it that I could. We had a great time.
Many people challenged me to think of 15 great things in 2015. So here they are:
1. We found a new church parish that we love.
2. Briggs and Brannan became much better "friends".
3. Grayson makes me laugh every single day.
4. A more settled year with my studio.
5. A very successful year with my dancers.
6. Good health for my Papi - he'll be 99 in March.
7. Brannan got the truck of his dreams.
8. Our home seems a little more "Home-ish" this year.
9. I became closer with several people, who I can now consider family.
10. No more Bottles.
11. Briggsy is out of diapers.
12. No more formula.
13. Grayson started school at BPECC, and I love all of my boys' teachers.
14. My boys have begun to show me a tiny glimpse into real "Boy-hood" (I'm not sure if I like it).
15. I did not deliver a child OR get pregnant in 2015.
I have had more than one person ask me if they can list #15 as one of THEIR top 15's...
I am learning that with each year, time passes more quickly. I wish I could freeze my boys at this age, as they are beyond fun, adventurous, and spontaneous. I laugh every single day. I can only hope that my resolution to make more time for them sticks. I am understanding that the simplest gifts from God are the one's that carry the most impact. I look outside every day and at least once, catch a glimpse of a red bird eavesdropping on our adventures. It makes my heart full, because I know that my Dad, Brannan's Dad, and others are just as "along for the ride" as I am. So here's to 2016 - its adventures, its excitement, and its challenges. The Webb's are ready!
Saturday, October 24, 2015
Chicken Shit
My heart has been so full lately. Not sure why - but I am full of thanks for the simplicity of it.
The testing of patience has also become a daily occurrence.
A few weeks back, one of my good friends was coming in from NYC to choreograph on my dancers. I had already played the Thursday out in my head: Drop Bk3 at pre-school for 9:00, take Briggs and Grayson with me to Sam's and Albertsons, unload the groceries at the house before heading to the Baton Rouge Airport for 11 a.m. Scoop Ang up and head straight to pre-school for noon carpool. Easy. Well, needless to say, I was pretty aware of my patience being tested multiple times. Whether it was the fact that it took the seafood handler 15 minutes to get her machine that weighed the salmon to work properly; or the fact that I strolled up to the one register operating, behind an elderly couple who needed explanation on why the 4 identical items she had purchased had rung up different costs (I'd need to know that too) and delayed us another 15 minutes. I hauled it out of Albertsons and headed home to drop the cold goods before heading to Sam's. I had 30 minutes to be in and out - I've so got this....Got to Sam's, threw kids in the cart, gave Grayson my Sam's card to satisfy his fussiness and show the very nice Sam's representative at the door... And then it became supermarket sweep! I was in and around the entire square shape of that store, when Briggsy finally says "Mommy, is it time to check out!?" Me: "Yes buddy, it's time to check out, we're going right now. Let me just grab my c-....." Card. CARD. Grayson! Where is my CARD!!! I can honestly say, I almost freaked out, but instead said "Let's just re-count our steps, boys".....as if either of the two had anything to say about that?
By the grace of God, there was the card, untouched - like God was shining a damn light on it in the middle of the seafood section. Thanking Him that no one picked it up that morning! Checked out, sped out, loaded the SUV, and hauled it home to drop more cold items (the 5 gallons of milk....right?).
I recognized the entire morning that my patience was being tested...but it was ok. Because it always is!
This past Friday was no different. I had already posted on facebook a status about the exhilarating feeling I received from talking Briggsy down from a temper tantrum. What made it so difficult was that Grayson was temper tantrum-ing right next to him, and BK3 is in his ear going "You know you're goin to get shots at your checkup today, Briggs?" All the while, buckled into one bench of our SUV, in a 10 car deep Chic Fil A drive thru.....They've got some impeccable service.
When we got home, we had a 'picnic' under the house since we only had presently 45 minutes until we would load back into the car and head to Briggsy's 3 year check up! The boys ate their chic fil A and asked to play afterward. They had 5 Minutes. I said GO! Briggsy chose the four wheeler and drove in circles perfectly content (he is unaware how to steer just yet). Bk3 decided that Briggsy driving his four wheeler wasn't ok, so he chased him....in the circle. of COURSE I got all of this on video. He grabbed onto the back bar of the four wheeler and proceeded to get dragged... I let it go. No wrestling on the concrete - that means grass, carpet, floor coverings, etc, all in the clear. Briggsy thought it was the best thing ever to drag his older brother. Before the first circle completed, it was time to load up for the Pediatrician's office.
We walk into Dr. Sanches's door, and I see a mark on BK3's back side. Yep, I scooted in closer, sniffed, it's CHICKEN SHIT. All down the back of his shirt, and on the top of his shorts. Greeeeaaaat. How am I supposed to clean that?! Well, again - I'm learning. Learning to say "Hey dude, just look straight ahead and don't touch it. Don't sit anywhere in this Doctor's office either. Stand. Just stand BK3." LOL.
A successful 3 year check up, and a few wrestling matches later, we were headed OUT - and I was so thankful that nobody really noticed the Chicken shit.....
We took the boys out to the LSU v Western Kentucky game/tailgate today. It flooded. Briggs and Brannan were the happiest boys allowed who were given the green light to play in the water. I figured, Hey, they're here - let's just do it. I think they'll remember this day for the rest of their lives.
I think my heart is so full because I've been able to see the joys of these sweet little individuals that I call sons. I surely understand that I'll blink and they'll be graduating...or I'll blink and just take a nap? In my dreams. I'm learning to recognize the simple, and enjoy it. Learning that my three son's cannot understand the smart phone life. And that I should just PUT IT DOWN. If you know me, you know that's tough! But I'm working on it. Again, Thankful for the gentle reminders from our loving God, to love my surroundings, no matter what it may be: supermarket sweep, wrestling matches, four wheeler rides through chicken shit, or regular fights on who's going to pray to Jesus first... It's all good, and I'm thankful.
The testing of patience has also become a daily occurrence.
A few weeks back, one of my good friends was coming in from NYC to choreograph on my dancers. I had already played the Thursday out in my head: Drop Bk3 at pre-school for 9:00, take Briggs and Grayson with me to Sam's and Albertsons, unload the groceries at the house before heading to the Baton Rouge Airport for 11 a.m. Scoop Ang up and head straight to pre-school for noon carpool. Easy. Well, needless to say, I was pretty aware of my patience being tested multiple times. Whether it was the fact that it took the seafood handler 15 minutes to get her machine that weighed the salmon to work properly; or the fact that I strolled up to the one register operating, behind an elderly couple who needed explanation on why the 4 identical items she had purchased had rung up different costs (I'd need to know that too) and delayed us another 15 minutes. I hauled it out of Albertsons and headed home to drop the cold goods before heading to Sam's. I had 30 minutes to be in and out - I've so got this....Got to Sam's, threw kids in the cart, gave Grayson my Sam's card to satisfy his fussiness and show the very nice Sam's representative at the door... And then it became supermarket sweep! I was in and around the entire square shape of that store, when Briggsy finally says "Mommy, is it time to check out!?" Me: "Yes buddy, it's time to check out, we're going right now. Let me just grab my c-....." Card. CARD. Grayson! Where is my CARD!!! I can honestly say, I almost freaked out, but instead said "Let's just re-count our steps, boys".....as if either of the two had anything to say about that?
By the grace of God, there was the card, untouched - like God was shining a damn light on it in the middle of the seafood section. Thanking Him that no one picked it up that morning! Checked out, sped out, loaded the SUV, and hauled it home to drop more cold items (the 5 gallons of milk....right?).
I recognized the entire morning that my patience was being tested...but it was ok. Because it always is!
This past Friday was no different. I had already posted on facebook a status about the exhilarating feeling I received from talking Briggsy down from a temper tantrum. What made it so difficult was that Grayson was temper tantrum-ing right next to him, and BK3 is in his ear going "You know you're goin to get shots at your checkup today, Briggs?" All the while, buckled into one bench of our SUV, in a 10 car deep Chic Fil A drive thru.....They've got some impeccable service.
When we got home, we had a 'picnic' under the house since we only had presently 45 minutes until we would load back into the car and head to Briggsy's 3 year check up! The boys ate their chic fil A and asked to play afterward. They had 5 Minutes. I said GO! Briggsy chose the four wheeler and drove in circles perfectly content (he is unaware how to steer just yet). Bk3 decided that Briggsy driving his four wheeler wasn't ok, so he chased him....in the circle. of COURSE I got all of this on video. He grabbed onto the back bar of the four wheeler and proceeded to get dragged... I let it go. No wrestling on the concrete - that means grass, carpet, floor coverings, etc, all in the clear. Briggsy thought it was the best thing ever to drag his older brother. Before the first circle completed, it was time to load up for the Pediatrician's office.
We walk into Dr. Sanches's door, and I see a mark on BK3's back side. Yep, I scooted in closer, sniffed, it's CHICKEN SHIT. All down the back of his shirt, and on the top of his shorts. Greeeeaaaat. How am I supposed to clean that?! Well, again - I'm learning. Learning to say "Hey dude, just look straight ahead and don't touch it. Don't sit anywhere in this Doctor's office either. Stand. Just stand BK3." LOL.
A successful 3 year check up, and a few wrestling matches later, we were headed OUT - and I was so thankful that nobody really noticed the Chicken shit.....
We took the boys out to the LSU v Western Kentucky game/tailgate today. It flooded. Briggs and Brannan were the happiest boys allowed who were given the green light to play in the water. I figured, Hey, they're here - let's just do it. I think they'll remember this day for the rest of their lives.
I think my heart is so full because I've been able to see the joys of these sweet little individuals that I call sons. I surely understand that I'll blink and they'll be graduating...or I'll blink and just take a nap? In my dreams. I'm learning to recognize the simple, and enjoy it. Learning that my three son's cannot understand the smart phone life. And that I should just PUT IT DOWN. If you know me, you know that's tough! But I'm working on it. Again, Thankful for the gentle reminders from our loving God, to love my surroundings, no matter what it may be: supermarket sweep, wrestling matches, four wheeler rides through chicken shit, or regular fights on who's going to pray to Jesus first... It's all good, and I'm thankful.
Monday, October 5, 2015
It's been 3 Years!
Just recently, I promised myself I'd start blogging again. 1. I really need to document the impeccable things that take place each day. To look back on and either laugh or cry. 2. Because it helps me to wind down - it's therapy in the best form - writing (or typing) out the excitement.
So I sat down tonight and opened up the link to get started. I came upon the last blog post I had made. Briggs was 6 weeks old.
Briggs turned 3 years old today.
I mostly laughed at the post, and honestly I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember being so overwhelmed at the idea of coming home to a house unfinished, a toddler and with a newborn in tow. I kept telling myself that "the hardest transition is from 1 to 2 children. If you can do this, you can do anything."
Well. Didn't I have a lot to learn?
3 years later. My still sweet Briggsy is 3 years old. The kindest, most gentle young man. We are 2 1/2 years into our beautiful home, and have welcomed yet another Webb boy, who just had his first birthday last month. I buy wine by the 6-pack (bottles), and milk 5 gallons at a time. That's a weekly purchase - the milk, not the wine. And I cling to God like no other.
When preparing for the big #3 for my Briggsy, I had many talks with Daddy about the perfect gift for the birthday boy. While, many times he insisted I go purchase a Trampoline for him, I refused. That's a little big for a birthday present, if you ask me. But no, not Daddy's perspective. After all, BK3 got a Jump House for his 4th birthday in May. A real jump house. The kind you rent. It's 14 feet tall, and we own it. We are from Livingston Parish, folks (no offense). I argued for a bike of his own, since hand me downs come real good and often in the Webb house. And while many times, this conversation ended with us in disagreement, I knew that it would work out in the end. I also knew that my husband had his own purchases already made, soon to arrive. Which brings me to exhibit 1:
The Bopper. It's an inflatable ring with handles, much like a donut or a pool ring, except 10 times larger. You grab a friend, you both put one around your waist, and run at high speeds toward one another. Much like sumo wrestling I'd guess. That's gift #1 from Daddy...except only one came in the box, which I found out today as I was wrapping, so the video of them sumo fighting will take the backseat until the second "Bopper" comes in the mail. Personally, I'm afraid one will get whiplash.
Exhibit 2: The giant hamster ball
Exactly as you'd guess. A giant inflatable ball, with outside access to jump in. It's made up of about 145 pockets that blow up, to create what looks to me like a giant uterus. And would you know that Daddy blew up all 145 pockets himself? That's determination. I asked him if he were just reliving his childhood through his boys - his answer - "It took you this long to figure that out?"....I'm in for it. Again, pictures to come. But just so you know? The giant uterus sits in my living room - and it's bigger than our couch.
Luckily, Daddy let me have my way and Briggsy got his very own bike. He had no idea what to do with it, but he surely thinks it's "cool". And believe me when I say, EVERY BOY in the Webb house thinks the sumo rings and the giant uterus are the BEST thing that could ever accompany a birthday. Daddy scored big - as always. Like I said, it always works out in the end.
Reading the last few blog posts prior to quitting the blog (for whatever reason, I can't remember), truly reminded me of something that has become so apparent to me lately:
Our time here on earth is limited. And what we do with it is so special. Our lives will not be filled with ease by "doing it right" or "crossing our T's and dotting I's". We will have struggles, frustrations, hardships, loss, and heartache. Who we turn to is the mold by which we will survive. It's incredible how my husband also became my partner in crime, confidante, faith friend, as well continuing to be the love of my life. These things happen because life happens. And it is important how we travel through. Learning to love above all circumstances, and remembering that our God is a loving God. He gives us strength - which I seemed to have needed a whole lot 3 years ago. Still do, now.
But just for the record, the transition to THREE children is the toughest.
And despite the new birthday toy, I'm thankful to report that MY uterus won't be inflating any time soon!
So I sat down tonight and opened up the link to get started. I came upon the last blog post I had made. Briggs was 6 weeks old.
Briggs turned 3 years old today.
I mostly laughed at the post, and honestly I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember being so overwhelmed at the idea of coming home to a house unfinished, a toddler and with a newborn in tow. I kept telling myself that "the hardest transition is from 1 to 2 children. If you can do this, you can do anything."
Well. Didn't I have a lot to learn?
3 years later. My still sweet Briggsy is 3 years old. The kindest, most gentle young man. We are 2 1/2 years into our beautiful home, and have welcomed yet another Webb boy, who just had his first birthday last month. I buy wine by the 6-pack (bottles), and milk 5 gallons at a time. That's a weekly purchase - the milk, not the wine. And I cling to God like no other.
When preparing for the big #3 for my Briggsy, I had many talks with Daddy about the perfect gift for the birthday boy. While, many times he insisted I go purchase a Trampoline for him, I refused. That's a little big for a birthday present, if you ask me. But no, not Daddy's perspective. After all, BK3 got a Jump House for his 4th birthday in May. A real jump house. The kind you rent. It's 14 feet tall, and we own it. We are from Livingston Parish, folks (no offense). I argued for a bike of his own, since hand me downs come real good and often in the Webb house. And while many times, this conversation ended with us in disagreement, I knew that it would work out in the end. I also knew that my husband had his own purchases already made, soon to arrive. Which brings me to exhibit 1:
The Bopper. It's an inflatable ring with handles, much like a donut or a pool ring, except 10 times larger. You grab a friend, you both put one around your waist, and run at high speeds toward one another. Much like sumo wrestling I'd guess. That's gift #1 from Daddy...except only one came in the box, which I found out today as I was wrapping, so the video of them sumo fighting will take the backseat until the second "Bopper" comes in the mail. Personally, I'm afraid one will get whiplash.
Exhibit 2: The giant hamster ball
Exactly as you'd guess. A giant inflatable ball, with outside access to jump in. It's made up of about 145 pockets that blow up, to create what looks to me like a giant uterus. And would you know that Daddy blew up all 145 pockets himself? That's determination. I asked him if he were just reliving his childhood through his boys - his answer - "It took you this long to figure that out?"....I'm in for it. Again, pictures to come. But just so you know? The giant uterus sits in my living room - and it's bigger than our couch.
Luckily, Daddy let me have my way and Briggsy got his very own bike. He had no idea what to do with it, but he surely thinks it's "cool". And believe me when I say, EVERY BOY in the Webb house thinks the sumo rings and the giant uterus are the BEST thing that could ever accompany a birthday. Daddy scored big - as always. Like I said, it always works out in the end.
Reading the last few blog posts prior to quitting the blog (for whatever reason, I can't remember), truly reminded me of something that has become so apparent to me lately:
Our time here on earth is limited. And what we do with it is so special. Our lives will not be filled with ease by "doing it right" or "crossing our T's and dotting I's". We will have struggles, frustrations, hardships, loss, and heartache. Who we turn to is the mold by which we will survive. It's incredible how my husband also became my partner in crime, confidante, faith friend, as well continuing to be the love of my life. These things happen because life happens. And it is important how we travel through. Learning to love above all circumstances, and remembering that our God is a loving God. He gives us strength - which I seemed to have needed a whole lot 3 years ago. Still do, now.
But just for the record, the transition to THREE children is the toughest.
And despite the new birthday toy, I'm thankful to report that MY uterus won't be inflating any time soon!
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
...it's just Temporary
It's been 3 months since I've been able to sit down and take advantage of this blog, which I call therapy. Let's see, our house on Citadel sold in late September, we moved into my in-laws right away, and on October 5th, Briggs Wylie decided to make his appearance. I'd say perfect timing. We were moved in for about 2 weeks prior, just enough time to realize the craziness that was about to take place, given the fact that our yet-to-be-finished home was far from it.
So our happy home temporarily sits atop the 2nd floor of the Honeycutt house - just when my in-laws entered the empty-nest after the youngest left for college, here come the Webbs! It's actually a great set up: we're able to have all of our beds in one room, a separate bathroom/changing and vanity area, and a second room for lounging/t.v./2 giant dogs...you know how we roll. We're thankful. It's not an apartment, with rent.
Everyone keeps asking when our home will be finished. Well...damnit. I just don't know. With the set-backs and "on holds" we've had so far, I am afraid to even utter the longest of time frames, for fear that I'll jinx myself YET AGAIN on this process. I just pray that we're in soon. Soon can mean whatever you want it to at this point.
Briggs was born 6 weeks ago this Friday. I can't believe it's been so long. It seems like just yesterday I was afraid - yes AFRAID to leave the hospital in fear that I wouldn't be capable of caring for 2 children. I knew that the feisty, loving, spunky 17 month old BK3 was on the other side of that door...and to be honest with you, I was afraid to go in. He's adjusting as well as any other 1 1/2 year old would. He knows that Briggs is "his baby", but that's about it. I now know that when I can't "hear" or "see" where BK3 is, I get nervous...since 9 times out of 10 he's probably turning Briggs' gentle level 1 swing snooze into a roller coaster ride from hell. Can big brothers cause shaken baby syndrome? When it comes to the bouncy seat...I'm just as terrified. The first week, I would've sworn I'd never survive but slowly - and I mean snail speed - I'm getting the hang of this 2 kid thing. I truly understand what people mean by "the transition from 1 to 2 is the hardest."
As painful as it will be to re-visit, this past Friday was the above all - end all to bad days yet. The clock hits 6:05 a.m., and since I've only gotten about 5 hours of broken sleep, I might as well get the party started. Nicole's teaching for me, and she's got the car for the day so it's just me and the boys. In our temporary home. I woke up to Bk3 walking out of the bedroom. How could he do that? Well, he learned how to open doors of course. Great! I chase after him, to see that he's opened all of the upstairs doors. He's let the dogs join him on the 2nd floor staircase area, and he's hitting Roxie, while she pees in every spot which simultaneously takes a hit. Briggs is loudly reminding me it's time to eat...and oh no, I forgot to put breast pads in...TMI, I know. We FINALLY make it downstairs, after cleaning, changing, etc and BK3 lets loose. His favorite time of day is when he plays the harp on the 32 rubberbands which decorate the kitchen cabinets in an attempt to keep the toddler away. Oh, but he does know how to pry open the pantry door just before the rubber band is at it's farthest stretch, to reach in and grab the oreo's, turn around and say "Cookie!?" No son, we haven't had breakfast yet. After a few more fun episodes/temper tantrums, I resort to locking all three of us in the back family room. There is a TV, Couch, and Toys. All we need to survive and I am comforted in the fact that I won't be running around to save his life. BK3, not Briggs.
Fast Forward to me realizing we're not safe in the back room, since BK3 has learned where the toddler-height accessible ice maker is, he's learned where the lamp outlets are, and oh yes, he's turned his bumble bee wooden push toy into a louisville slugger, with Re's brand new glass paned back doors as the baseball. I say, "Now is a good time to find a new safety spot." We move to the kitchen - where Briggs (the angel that he is) goes to sleep in the bouncy, and BK3 can continue his harp skills. I'm long overdue to send ONE email for work and I sit down in Re's office to do so. I need 3 minutes. Seriously. One minute goes by and I don't hear BK3. Not good. I haul ass out of the office, and into the living room where am drawn upward by the sound of my child's playful voice. He's on his belly, upstairs look out, head between two spindles, and hands hanging on each. "Ma Ma MA!" with the biggest smile on his face. I swear I turned white as a ghost and made it up the stairs in about 4 seconds flat...too bad it looks like he had escaped up there faster than that. After a few "ta ta's" and "no no's" I hoped that I could finish my email. Nope. You'd think I would know to barricade the staircase. Well, with what? My child moves Chairs that I struggle with. I figured it out once he made it BACK up there faster than I could press "send". I was stupid not to think ahead in the first place. 3 feedings, 1 messy toddler lunch, 6 tantrums and about 30 some odd spankings later, I managed to get Briggs to sleep in his swing, and BK3 in a better mood. I resorted upstairs to take a long hot bath before Daddy B got home. I didn't need peace, I just needed cooperation. I had my hot steamy bath and I could relax, regardless of the toy cars that were getting tossed into the bubbles by the tot. Then the unthinkable. I close my eyes for two seconds to imagine sunny beaches, when I hear Bk3's footsteps running back into the bathroom. Before I can reach up to dodge the future, BK3 tosses both dog bowls in with me. Dog food pieces floating around me. Saliva infested water remains too. Ok Carrie, now it's time to just get the F out. MM hmm. I'm pretty sure I've blocked out the rest of the happenings of Friday, because I'm sure I'll laugh out of hysterics and turn into a crazy person. Luckily, I'm laughing as I type this.
Like I said, I'm learning. And I'm getting better at the tasks, record times, etc every day! Briggs is an absolute angel. Aside from not sleeping more than 2 or 3 hours a night, he's perfect. My mother in law says "he's a typical 2nd child - they don't fuss or bother cause they know mama can't really tend to 'em." Well, that's him to a T, but I'm tending a lot :) And although BK3 feels like creating an earthquake wherever he goes, he must know deep down that his mama has a lot of will power too. And just when I'm about to pull my hair out, his hair out, and the 4 dogs, 2 cats, and whatever else is running around's hair out, BK3 leans over to baby Briggs and gives a "MmmmmmmmMaaahhh" sweet kiss to let me know it's all good in the temporary hood.
Thanks for the prayers y'all :)
So our happy home temporarily sits atop the 2nd floor of the Honeycutt house - just when my in-laws entered the empty-nest after the youngest left for college, here come the Webbs! It's actually a great set up: we're able to have all of our beds in one room, a separate bathroom/changing and vanity area, and a second room for lounging/t.v./2 giant dogs...you know how we roll. We're thankful. It's not an apartment, with rent.
Everyone keeps asking when our home will be finished. Well...damnit. I just don't know. With the set-backs and "on holds" we've had so far, I am afraid to even utter the longest of time frames, for fear that I'll jinx myself YET AGAIN on this process. I just pray that we're in soon. Soon can mean whatever you want it to at this point.
Briggs was born 6 weeks ago this Friday. I can't believe it's been so long. It seems like just yesterday I was afraid - yes AFRAID to leave the hospital in fear that I wouldn't be capable of caring for 2 children. I knew that the feisty, loving, spunky 17 month old BK3 was on the other side of that door...and to be honest with you, I was afraid to go in. He's adjusting as well as any other 1 1/2 year old would. He knows that Briggs is "his baby", but that's about it. I now know that when I can't "hear" or "see" where BK3 is, I get nervous...since 9 times out of 10 he's probably turning Briggs' gentle level 1 swing snooze into a roller coaster ride from hell. Can big brothers cause shaken baby syndrome? When it comes to the bouncy seat...I'm just as terrified. The first week, I would've sworn I'd never survive but slowly - and I mean snail speed - I'm getting the hang of this 2 kid thing. I truly understand what people mean by "the transition from 1 to 2 is the hardest."
As painful as it will be to re-visit, this past Friday was the above all - end all to bad days yet. The clock hits 6:05 a.m., and since I've only gotten about 5 hours of broken sleep, I might as well get the party started. Nicole's teaching for me, and she's got the car for the day so it's just me and the boys. In our temporary home. I woke up to Bk3 walking out of the bedroom. How could he do that? Well, he learned how to open doors of course. Great! I chase after him, to see that he's opened all of the upstairs doors. He's let the dogs join him on the 2nd floor staircase area, and he's hitting Roxie, while she pees in every spot which simultaneously takes a hit. Briggs is loudly reminding me it's time to eat...and oh no, I forgot to put breast pads in...TMI, I know. We FINALLY make it downstairs, after cleaning, changing, etc and BK3 lets loose. His favorite time of day is when he plays the harp on the 32 rubberbands which decorate the kitchen cabinets in an attempt to keep the toddler away. Oh, but he does know how to pry open the pantry door just before the rubber band is at it's farthest stretch, to reach in and grab the oreo's, turn around and say "Cookie!?" No son, we haven't had breakfast yet. After a few more fun episodes/temper tantrums, I resort to locking all three of us in the back family room. There is a TV, Couch, and Toys. All we need to survive and I am comforted in the fact that I won't be running around to save his life. BK3, not Briggs.
Fast Forward to me realizing we're not safe in the back room, since BK3 has learned where the toddler-height accessible ice maker is, he's learned where the lamp outlets are, and oh yes, he's turned his bumble bee wooden push toy into a louisville slugger, with Re's brand new glass paned back doors as the baseball. I say, "Now is a good time to find a new safety spot." We move to the kitchen - where Briggs (the angel that he is) goes to sleep in the bouncy, and BK3 can continue his harp skills. I'm long overdue to send ONE email for work and I sit down in Re's office to do so. I need 3 minutes. Seriously. One minute goes by and I don't hear BK3. Not good. I haul ass out of the office, and into the living room where am drawn upward by the sound of my child's playful voice. He's on his belly, upstairs look out, head between two spindles, and hands hanging on each. "Ma Ma MA!" with the biggest smile on his face. I swear I turned white as a ghost and made it up the stairs in about 4 seconds flat...too bad it looks like he had escaped up there faster than that. After a few "ta ta's" and "no no's" I hoped that I could finish my email. Nope. You'd think I would know to barricade the staircase. Well, with what? My child moves Chairs that I struggle with. I figured it out once he made it BACK up there faster than I could press "send". I was stupid not to think ahead in the first place. 3 feedings, 1 messy toddler lunch, 6 tantrums and about 30 some odd spankings later, I managed to get Briggs to sleep in his swing, and BK3 in a better mood. I resorted upstairs to take a long hot bath before Daddy B got home. I didn't need peace, I just needed cooperation. I had my hot steamy bath and I could relax, regardless of the toy cars that were getting tossed into the bubbles by the tot. Then the unthinkable. I close my eyes for two seconds to imagine sunny beaches, when I hear Bk3's footsteps running back into the bathroom. Before I can reach up to dodge the future, BK3 tosses both dog bowls in with me. Dog food pieces floating around me. Saliva infested water remains too. Ok Carrie, now it's time to just get the F out. MM hmm. I'm pretty sure I've blocked out the rest of the happenings of Friday, because I'm sure I'll laugh out of hysterics and turn into a crazy person. Luckily, I'm laughing as I type this.
Like I said, I'm learning. And I'm getting better at the tasks, record times, etc every day! Briggs is an absolute angel. Aside from not sleeping more than 2 or 3 hours a night, he's perfect. My mother in law says "he's a typical 2nd child - they don't fuss or bother cause they know mama can't really tend to 'em." Well, that's him to a T, but I'm tending a lot :) And although BK3 feels like creating an earthquake wherever he goes, he must know deep down that his mama has a lot of will power too. And just when I'm about to pull my hair out, his hair out, and the 4 dogs, 2 cats, and whatever else is running around's hair out, BK3 leans over to baby Briggs and gives a "MmmmmmmmMaaahhh" sweet kiss to let me know it's all good in the temporary hood.
Thanks for the prayers y'all :)
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Upstaged by Daddy
It's been a while. BK3's birthday was in May. It's July now. He's 2 weeks shy of a whopping 15 months, and I feel like now is the time when I wish my life were in freeze mode. At Revolution, we just wrapped up our incredible summer programs and national competitions with Company. Our house construction is in full swing. My baby boy #2 is due in just 10 weeks. The new dance season is approaching within the week, and we have about 3 months to sell this house. It's go time, and I'm just now realizing how physically slow I'm becoming.
We picked out toilets and plumbing fixtures today. Me and BK3. In November, we talked to a relative about contracting our house for us. One night, along with some drinks, he (the relative) and my hubs came to the conclusion that we could do this on our own, just with his guidance, and save a hefty contractor fee. The two of them looked at me that cold night in November and said "Carrie, you can do this. You don't work during the day. You can handle ALL of the phone calls and appointments." I remember almost hitting the floor. Because I knew at that moment, that they were telling me what we were doing, and not asking me. Did you catch that? "Carrie, you don't work during the day" statement... heh. yeah. When I got pregnant in February, I'm pretty sure I re-visited that statement, and almost hit the floor again. We started construction in March and it's been going pretty well since then. I've since learned the following:
Contractors are worth the money you spend, if you know nothing about building a house (Like Me), and don't wish to have to deal with the ins and outs (again. Like Me).
Building permits are expensive for just a tiny sheet of paper.
Homes inside the city limits of Denham Springs have a lot of building rules.
Framers don't speak English. And they don't think you can speak Spanish either.
Nails are expensive.
Rain Sucks.
Men don't tend to work on the same time schedules as us organized women do.
You can buy a toilet that'll suck the skin off your ass, but everything has it's price.
...as you can see, I could be here for days. But I won't.
So yes, BK3 and I picked out plumbing fixtures today. Since I don't work. Ya know, I packed up the baby, along with my belly, and all the other dance clothing/ipad/etc items I needed in order to run all necessary home building errands, change diapers if/when needed, and go to work. WORK. I thought I was smart by having the necessary 12 bags of Teddy Grahams, 2 sippy cups, enough wipes and diapers, giant glass of water for myself, and a stroller. I figured BK3 would stay in his stroller while in the showroom. Nope. He lasted about 10 minutes, and when it was time to go to faucets for the bathrooms, I gave in and let him run free. Thankfully the worker was patient with me and thought B was cute as he explored the tubs/sinks. Or maybe she was just acting. Just as she was trying to explain to me the difference between the brush silver and the bronze, I hear my son banging on the toilet display, while grunting. Yep - he was taking a shit, while standing NEXT TO a toilet. Good Style B. Thanks. I was able to pick out every faucet, shower head, toilet, and bathtub in 45 minutes. I'd say that's record time. Onto Lighting? No thank you. One errand a day please, even if this mama "doesn't work during the day".
Just as we left there I headed to RDC to meet the A/C repair man, because did I forget to mention the AC went out in one of the dance rooms? Cause it did. Yep.
So I come to the subject which this blog is titled. Upstaged by Daddy. It all happened around B's 9 month mark. He had started to crawl. Was pulling up. And bam. Daddy became the King of the household. Daddy hung the moon. Forget Mama's 9 months of fetus building, heartburn, 9 hours of natural labor, 72 hours of absolutely NO sleep those first nights at home, the stomach virus episode (oy vey) and the endless hours of nursing, rocking, ya know ya know. I'm pretty sure I've been downgraded to 3rd behind Boss, yet still leading Roxie, who sits well in 4th. It didn't take me long to figure out that during B's "all day period" with me, I have errands (since I don't work ya know) for both houses, cooking/cleaning, and doing that god-awful thing that I actually DONT DO during the day (run my business). So B and I get some play time, but it's not all day. When Daddy arrives on his horse with shiny armor, they play. All day. He learns to climb stairs. He learns to climb DOWN stairs. He plays ball. They practice boy things. When we got home from a 7 day stay in Vegas, I was the first one to make it to B who was being held in my mom's arms. It took me less than 1 second to realize he was looking (and reaching) far past me at King Daddy who was just now getting out the car. I'm not bitter. It's ok. I keep telling myself it's a phase, and that maybe he senses that I'm well preoccupied with this baby making, etc. Everyone tells me that it might change after Baby 2 arrives...I'm waiting. My baby boy is growing up so fast - and I think I've done a good job by not breaking down with these prego hormones over the fact that he'd probably choose Boss's saliva over mommy's touch.
So 10 more weeks. And we still don't have a name. I'm patient. Something I like will pop up. Until then, I'll go prop my feet up and sip some hot tea...ya know, since "I don't work during the day...."
We picked out toilets and plumbing fixtures today. Me and BK3. In November, we talked to a relative about contracting our house for us. One night, along with some drinks, he (the relative) and my hubs came to the conclusion that we could do this on our own, just with his guidance, and save a hefty contractor fee. The two of them looked at me that cold night in November and said "Carrie, you can do this. You don't work during the day. You can handle ALL of the phone calls and appointments." I remember almost hitting the floor. Because I knew at that moment, that they were telling me what we were doing, and not asking me. Did you catch that? "Carrie, you don't work during the day" statement... heh. yeah. When I got pregnant in February, I'm pretty sure I re-visited that statement, and almost hit the floor again. We started construction in March and it's been going pretty well since then. I've since learned the following:
Contractors are worth the money you spend, if you know nothing about building a house (Like Me), and don't wish to have to deal with the ins and outs (again. Like Me).
Building permits are expensive for just a tiny sheet of paper.
Homes inside the city limits of Denham Springs have a lot of building rules.
Framers don't speak English. And they don't think you can speak Spanish either.
Nails are expensive.
Rain Sucks.
Men don't tend to work on the same time schedules as us organized women do.
You can buy a toilet that'll suck the skin off your ass, but everything has it's price.
...as you can see, I could be here for days. But I won't.
So yes, BK3 and I picked out plumbing fixtures today. Since I don't work. Ya know, I packed up the baby, along with my belly, and all the other dance clothing/ipad/etc items I needed in order to run all necessary home building errands, change diapers if/when needed, and go to work. WORK. I thought I was smart by having the necessary 12 bags of Teddy Grahams, 2 sippy cups, enough wipes and diapers, giant glass of water for myself, and a stroller. I figured BK3 would stay in his stroller while in the showroom. Nope. He lasted about 10 minutes, and when it was time to go to faucets for the bathrooms, I gave in and let him run free. Thankfully the worker was patient with me and thought B was cute as he explored the tubs/sinks. Or maybe she was just acting. Just as she was trying to explain to me the difference between the brush silver and the bronze, I hear my son banging on the toilet display, while grunting. Yep - he was taking a shit, while standing NEXT TO a toilet. Good Style B. Thanks. I was able to pick out every faucet, shower head, toilet, and bathtub in 45 minutes. I'd say that's record time. Onto Lighting? No thank you. One errand a day please, even if this mama "doesn't work during the day".
Just as we left there I headed to RDC to meet the A/C repair man, because did I forget to mention the AC went out in one of the dance rooms? Cause it did. Yep.
So I come to the subject which this blog is titled. Upstaged by Daddy. It all happened around B's 9 month mark. He had started to crawl. Was pulling up. And bam. Daddy became the King of the household. Daddy hung the moon. Forget Mama's 9 months of fetus building, heartburn, 9 hours of natural labor, 72 hours of absolutely NO sleep those first nights at home, the stomach virus episode (oy vey) and the endless hours of nursing, rocking, ya know ya know. I'm pretty sure I've been downgraded to 3rd behind Boss, yet still leading Roxie, who sits well in 4th. It didn't take me long to figure out that during B's "all day period" with me, I have errands (since I don't work ya know) for both houses, cooking/cleaning, and doing that god-awful thing that I actually DONT DO during the day (run my business). So B and I get some play time, but it's not all day. When Daddy arrives on his horse with shiny armor, they play. All day. He learns to climb stairs. He learns to climb DOWN stairs. He plays ball. They practice boy things. When we got home from a 7 day stay in Vegas, I was the first one to make it to B who was being held in my mom's arms. It took me less than 1 second to realize he was looking (and reaching) far past me at King Daddy who was just now getting out the car. I'm not bitter. It's ok. I keep telling myself it's a phase, and that maybe he senses that I'm well preoccupied with this baby making, etc. Everyone tells me that it might change after Baby 2 arrives...I'm waiting. My baby boy is growing up so fast - and I think I've done a good job by not breaking down with these prego hormones over the fact that he'd probably choose Boss's saliva over mommy's touch.
So 10 more weeks. And we still don't have a name. I'm patient. Something I like will pop up. Until then, I'll go prop my feet up and sip some hot tea...ya know, since "I don't work during the day...."
Thursday, June 7, 2012
The first time ever...
I ran from my baby.
If there is one thing I've learned from mommyhood in these short 12 1/2 months, it's that we as women, can endure anything. I laugh now at what I used to say about "I'm never having kids...." blah blah blah. How selfish of me? But it's ok. I was young. We learn. I can't see my life any other way. Being a mother is amazing.
Except on nights like this.
Brannan and BK3 met me at the studio after my last class, to go to California Pizza Kitchen for a dinner out. Have you been lately? They are doing a promotion where you receive a few scratch off coupons at the conclusion of your meal. You're supposed to use them at your "next" visit. Not to mention you cannot open them or scratch them off prior to. Obviously it's a deal to get you into the restaurant just one more time. And since my husband is convinced that we have the $100,000 grand prize sitting on our kitchen table, we've been frequent customers. Hey, 20% off isn't so bad either. We got a few more tonight....I'm sure we'll be back. The avocado egg rolls haven't bored me yet.
We got home around 9:00 p.m. and I got BK3's bath ready right away. I love bath time, as all mom's do I'm sure. I'm exhausted. AND VERY FULL from dinner, not to mention the fact that Baby Boy 2 has hit some sort of growth spurt inside my uterus and I'm feeling a little large lately. I'm sure the 90 degree weather doesn't help. But bath time it is for the little guy. Daddy B was getting changed out of his clothes and walks in just as BK3's face starts to tell us something. I'm not sure about anyone else's kids, but since BK3 was about 2 months old, I can tell when it's time. For a #2. He focuses. Makes a half smile with the left side of his mouth, and then JUST as his face starts to turn like a tomato, he lets out a grunt. That's my son. Or more-so, that's DADDY's son. And I'm going "no.....it's all good. He's done the deed twice already today. He's just grunting....no #2 for him. I quickly start to wash him up, when I get to his backside with the wash cloth. I felt it. The sure sign that a treat has arrived. As I rip my hand and the wash cloth away, the treat flies into the water....which then becomes joined by yet another....AND YET ANOTHER. All within a few seconds.
I caved. I RAN.
I looked at Brannan and said THAT'S IT! I CAN'T. I JUST CAN'T. PLEASE. YOU DO IT!
My son was giggling at his latest accomplishment, and I had run. Fast.
And not one bit of me felt bad for "abandoning" my son to his Daddy who witnessed the whole thing. Daddy B took care of it. Like I know he can. I've made it through nursing a newborn...as Daddy snored next to me. I made it through the 3 midnight runs to the ER with the croup. I made it through the stomach virus without asking for help. And here is a turd in the tub. And I run like a python is chasing me.
Shame on me. But then I realized. Wait...Daddy handled it. Maybe I should run more often?
nah.
If there is one thing I've learned from mommyhood in these short 12 1/2 months, it's that we as women, can endure anything. I laugh now at what I used to say about "I'm never having kids...." blah blah blah. How selfish of me? But it's ok. I was young. We learn. I can't see my life any other way. Being a mother is amazing.
Except on nights like this.
Brannan and BK3 met me at the studio after my last class, to go to California Pizza Kitchen for a dinner out. Have you been lately? They are doing a promotion where you receive a few scratch off coupons at the conclusion of your meal. You're supposed to use them at your "next" visit. Not to mention you cannot open them or scratch them off prior to. Obviously it's a deal to get you into the restaurant just one more time. And since my husband is convinced that we have the $100,000 grand prize sitting on our kitchen table, we've been frequent customers. Hey, 20% off isn't so bad either. We got a few more tonight....I'm sure we'll be back. The avocado egg rolls haven't bored me yet.
We got home around 9:00 p.m. and I got BK3's bath ready right away. I love bath time, as all mom's do I'm sure. I'm exhausted. AND VERY FULL from dinner, not to mention the fact that Baby Boy 2 has hit some sort of growth spurt inside my uterus and I'm feeling a little large lately. I'm sure the 90 degree weather doesn't help. But bath time it is for the little guy. Daddy B was getting changed out of his clothes and walks in just as BK3's face starts to tell us something. I'm not sure about anyone else's kids, but since BK3 was about 2 months old, I can tell when it's time. For a #2. He focuses. Makes a half smile with the left side of his mouth, and then JUST as his face starts to turn like a tomato, he lets out a grunt. That's my son. Or more-so, that's DADDY's son. And I'm going "no.....it's all good. He's done the deed twice already today. He's just grunting....no #2 for him. I quickly start to wash him up, when I get to his backside with the wash cloth. I felt it. The sure sign that a treat has arrived. As I rip my hand and the wash cloth away, the treat flies into the water....which then becomes joined by yet another....AND YET ANOTHER. All within a few seconds.
I caved. I RAN.
I looked at Brannan and said THAT'S IT! I CAN'T. I JUST CAN'T. PLEASE. YOU DO IT!
My son was giggling at his latest accomplishment, and I had run. Fast.
And not one bit of me felt bad for "abandoning" my son to his Daddy who witnessed the whole thing. Daddy B took care of it. Like I know he can. I've made it through nursing a newborn...as Daddy snored next to me. I made it through the 3 midnight runs to the ER with the croup. I made it through the stomach virus without asking for help. And here is a turd in the tub. And I run like a python is chasing me.
Shame on me. But then I realized. Wait...Daddy handled it. Maybe I should run more often?
nah.
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