We don't get to go out too often but we got to go toMichael's holiday party for his company and we had
a great time. Anytime the two of us have time together
without the kids is always cherrished.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Big Girl Chair
On top of her fetish for our magazine rackMadison loves chairs, it makes her
feel like asuch a big girl its so cute.
Fun Pics
Yes you are seeing this correctly, one of Madison's favorite thingsis to sit inside our magazine rack. Can't tell you why, but she
insists on pulling out all the magazines and climbing in.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Getting By
So now that the shock of being pregnant has passed I'm not feeling too bad, I'm just about at that 16 week mark where you start to feel pretty good. I have to say though I'm pretty tired, by the
end of the day my body is ready to plop. Most days I struggle out of bed at 6:30 but feel pretty good in the swing of things by 7:30. However, here in lies the deceit, because I feel good I think I can keep up my pace, you would have thought I would have learned by now that trying to squeeze in that last errand would cause me damage. Most days the girls are great they allow me to rest for half and hour so around 3:00 when Madison takes her second nap, which then allows me to function again and get through dinner and bedtime. But the days I don't rest, like today, Preschool, Girl Scout meeting (including errands before hand to prepare for meeting) getting home at 4:15, wiped and exhausted make dinner, to which Michael leaves at 6:30 to go to TFM at church, leaving me to homework, baths and bed time routines. So by 8:15 the bed is calling my name!! Hopefully tomorrow will be better and I'll have a time to rest.
end of the day my body is ready to plop. Most days I struggle out of bed at 6:30 but feel pretty good in the swing of things by 7:30. However, here in lies the deceit, because I feel good I think I can keep up my pace, you would have thought I would have learned by now that trying to squeeze in that last errand would cause me damage. Most days the girls are great they allow me to rest for half and hour so around 3:00 when Madison takes her second nap, which then allows me to function again and get through dinner and bedtime. But the days I don't rest, like today, Preschool, Girl Scout meeting (including errands before hand to prepare for meeting) getting home at 4:15, wiped and exhausted make dinner, to which Michael leaves at 6:30 to go to TFM at church, leaving me to homework, baths and bed time routines. So by 8:15 the bed is calling my name!! Hopefully tomorrow will be better and I'll have a time to rest.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Took this from my friend Courtney's Web Site. It's long but worth it.
Being a Mom
We are sitting at lunch one day when my daughter casuallymentions that she and her husband are thinking of “starting a family.”“We’re taking a survey,” she says half-joking. “Do you thinkI should have a baby?”“It will change your life,” I say, carefully keeping my toneneutral.“I know,” she says, “no more sleeping in on weekends, no morespontaneous vacations.”-But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my daughter,trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what shewill never learn in childbirth classes.I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearingwill heal, but becoming a mother will leave her with an emotionalwound so raw that she will forever bevulnerable.-I consider warning her that she will never again read anewspaper without asking, “What if that had been MY child?” Thatevery plane crash, every house fire will haunt her.That when she sees pictures of starving children, she willwonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die.-I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit andthink that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a motherwill reduce her to the primitive level of a bearprotecting her cub. That an urgent call of “Mom!” will causeher to drop a soufflé or her best crystal without a momentshesitation.-I feel that I should warn her that no matter how many yearsshe has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailedby motherhood. She might arrange forchildcare, but one day she will be going into an importantbusiness meeting and she will think of her baby’s sweet smell. Shewill have to use every ounce of discipline to keep from runninghome, just to make sure her baby is all right.-I want my daughter to know that every day decisions will nolonger be routine. That a five year old boy’s desire to go to themen’s room rather than the women’s at McDonald’swill become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midstof clattering trays and screaming children, issues of independenceand gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that achild molester may be lurking in that restroom.However decisive she may be at the office, she willsecond-guess herself constantly as a mother.-Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her thateventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she willnever feel the same about herself. That her life, now soimportant, will be of less value to her once she has a child. Thatshe would give herself up in a moment to save her offspring, butwill also begin to hope for more years, not to accomplish her owndreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs. I want her toknow that a cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badgesof honor.-My daughter’s relationship with her husband will change, butnot in the way she thinks.I wish she could understand how much more you can love a manwho is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to playwith his child. I think she should know that she will fall in lovewith him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic.-I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel withwomen throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice anddrunk driving.-I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeingyour child learn to ride a bike. I want to capture for her thebelly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft furof a dog or cat for the first time. I want her to taste thejoy that is so real it actually hurts.-My daughter’s quizzical look makes me realize that tears haveformed in my eyes. “You’ll never regret it,” I finally say. Then Ireached across the table, squeezed mydaughter’s hand and offered a silent prayer for her, and forme, and for all the mere mortal women who stumble their way intothis most wonderful of callings.
We are sitting at lunch one day when my daughter casuallymentions that she and her husband are thinking of “starting a family.”“We’re taking a survey,” she says half-joking. “Do you thinkI should have a baby?”“It will change your life,” I say, carefully keeping my toneneutral.“I know,” she says, “no more sleeping in on weekends, no morespontaneous vacations.”-But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my daughter,trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what shewill never learn in childbirth classes.I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearingwill heal, but becoming a mother will leave her with an emotionalwound so raw that she will forever bevulnerable.-I consider warning her that she will never again read anewspaper without asking, “What if that had been MY child?” Thatevery plane crash, every house fire will haunt her.That when she sees pictures of starving children, she willwonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die.-I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit andthink that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a motherwill reduce her to the primitive level of a bearprotecting her cub. That an urgent call of “Mom!” will causeher to drop a soufflé or her best crystal without a momentshesitation.-I feel that I should warn her that no matter how many yearsshe has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailedby motherhood. She might arrange forchildcare, but one day she will be going into an importantbusiness meeting and she will think of her baby’s sweet smell. Shewill have to use every ounce of discipline to keep from runninghome, just to make sure her baby is all right.-I want my daughter to know that every day decisions will nolonger be routine. That a five year old boy’s desire to go to themen’s room rather than the women’s at McDonald’swill become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midstof clattering trays and screaming children, issues of independenceand gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that achild molester may be lurking in that restroom.However decisive she may be at the office, she willsecond-guess herself constantly as a mother.-Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her thateventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she willnever feel the same about herself. That her life, now soimportant, will be of less value to her once she has a child. Thatshe would give herself up in a moment to save her offspring, butwill also begin to hope for more years, not to accomplish her owndreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs. I want her toknow that a cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badgesof honor.-My daughter’s relationship with her husband will change, butnot in the way she thinks.I wish she could understand how much more you can love a manwho is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to playwith his child. I think she should know that she will fall in lovewith him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic.-I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel withwomen throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice anddrunk driving.-I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeingyour child learn to ride a bike. I want to capture for her thebelly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft furof a dog or cat for the first time. I want her to taste thejoy that is so real it actually hurts.-My daughter’s quizzical look makes me realize that tears haveformed in my eyes. “You’ll never regret it,” I finally say. Then Ireached across the table, squeezed mydaughter’s hand and offered a silent prayer for her, and forme, and for all the mere mortal women who stumble their way intothis most wonderful of callings.
My baby is 1.
I can't even believe it, where did the time go, this
year has just gone by so fast and you are this
adorable, sweet, loving little girl.
I will miss your baby year but you are
becoming this fun little, happy little toddler.
I'm so lucky to be your mom.
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