Why I'm starting this blog

I have a family blog that up until rececntly I haven't done much with. I am now catching up with the times and have been coaxed by a few good people in my life to start a blog where I can post my writing. I have always enjoyed writing, and am currently working on a number of different things. I think I'll use this blog to share some of them with any of you who might be interested. If you enjoy what you read here, please share this sight with others. That being said, don't steal my stuff! :) I have had a trying week for no real particular reason. Last night I wrote about it just to get some thoughts out of my head. I'm also posting a little "story" I wrote about my baby Owen. Everyday day or so I plan on adding new things. Enjoy!

Today I’ve learned that it is possible to pretend you are happy when you feel much less than. Why would I do something like that? For my kids, my husband, and for my sanity. I’m generally a pretty upbeat person, but life with three young kids, a house, a tight budget, and no chocolate can weigh down on a girl pretty fast. It’s hard to see the positive when the negative seems to be yelling in your face. What makes it so easy to see the bad, and not the good? It’s almost like an addiction in some ways because once you start to think negatively, it’s hard to stop. This morning I started my day with a two year old screaming in the corner for half an hour. Why was he in the corner? A battle of wills I suppose. Here’s how the episode happened. Me: “Lincoln, say sorry to mom for coloring on the carpet.” Him: “No!” Me: “ok Linc, into the corner until you’re ready to say sorry.” Him: “No! No! No! No! Me: “grrrrrrrrr” as I place his screaming self in the corner.
I suppose it’s possible to have a screaming toddler and remain positive at the same time, but it’s a lot easier to be negative. Add a hungry baby, and an independent four year old into the mix, and those negative thoughts start popping out without much effort, irritating the situation even further. And so I was faced with the decision. Do I give in to those feelings, or do I fight them? Give in……..fight? Give in…….fight? Giving in felt like a fair decision because it really wasn’t fair that I was bombarded with a million tasks and problems before I’d even eaten breakfast and yet, I suppose if there was any chance the day would get better, fighting was the only way to go. What did ‘fair’ really mean anyway? And so I fought. Some of the time I felt like I was fighting all of my kids at once, but by golly I tried hard. The day really didn’t get much better than it started. For lunch the Mac and Cheese boiled over. After lunch Lincoln almost made it to the potty. (key word, almost), and during quiet time, Logan made a lovely bubble soup in the bathroom sink with an entire bottle of bubble bath. We did have a few fun moments where I forced myself to do things I really didn’t want to do. I had a pretend food party with Logan (I had to test the soup, right?), and I raced the older two to the white fence in the back yard while towing the wee one on my hip. I discovered it was those small things that made the difference. They made my kids happy, and made me feel just a little less grouchy, if only for a minute. Tomorrow should be better, everyone has bad days. My goal now is to focus on the fun stuff! Wish me luck!


Today I woke up grumpy. My eyes ached to stay closed, and I stumbled out of bed and down the hall to the little room you sleep in. I was in no mood to be cheerful, but you didn’t mind. Like an angel you looked up at me through your crib bars, and you smiled.

The mail came this morning. More bills to pay. I was grumbling in an attempt to balance the check book, sitting at the kitchen table still wearing my pajama’s, and consciously drowning out an argument your brothers were having over a green crayon, when you crawled into the kitchen, plunked your little bum down where it chose to plunk and looked up at me with those big blue eyes, and then you smiled.

The house is a mess. The laundry is challenging the dishes in a contest of “who can pile the highest.” The floor, though already swept last night, is covered in cheerio’s and cookie crumbs, and I believe my vacuum is still in the hall closet where I placed it over a month ago. I look around the house and feel over whelmed by where to start. You are sitting on a clean pile of laundry, playing with one of daddy’s socks. You wave it around and laugh out loud, then look up to make sure I see that you are smiling.

Eventually, things clean up a bit. The house isn’t perfect, but it will do. You’ve been playing along side me, but you’ve reached your limit of play time and begin to whine. I hurry to put the last few dishes in the dishwasher, but it proves to be too much for you because when I pick you up you are wailing. Being held calms you down a bit, and we walk up to your room. I give you your binki and gorilla and lay you in your bed. You smile as happily as you can. You feel safe and content in your little crib, and you are asleep before I leave the room.

For your two big brothers, this is play time. We read stories, play games on the computer, and they watch movies while I finally take a shower. The morning is filled with activities, but you miss them all in your cozy crib. Finally, when your nap is through, I hear you cry again. You do not like to be alone. You watch the door impatiently for signs of movement. Your brothers hear you cry and beg to go to you. You must hear their steps and voices approach the door, because just before it opens, your crying stops. They push it open and there you are, standing in you crib, with an open mouthed grin behind your binki.

The afternoon passes. You smile as you eat, you smile as you nurse. You smile at your toys, and your books, and your toes. You smile playing patty-cake, and laugh when you’re tickled. You smile when you stand, and even when you fall. Your smile seems to tell us how you feel about everything you discover in your new little world.

At times your smiles stop. You search everywhere for me. You start to look panicked until your eyes find mine, and your smile reappears. It fades when I look away, but I can feel your gaze unbroken, and when I glance back at you, your face lights up instantly. Back and forth, I turn my head to watch your grin appear and disappear. I think I would rather watch your face right now more than anything else in the world.


It’s time to eat dinner. You are sitting in your highchair with a pile of cheerios, succeeding to get half of them in your mouth. Daddy walk’s through the door. He is tired from his long day, but your bright welcome lifts his spirits immediately. After a kiss from me, he turns to tickle you under your chin. For daddy you smile the biggest of all. You grab his face while spouting a primitive, “Da Da Da Dah!” Your brothers mimic you and you watch them with pleasure. Together we eat our meal, while you glance around at everyone, smiling your heart out.

Finally, it is time to go to bed. You smile as I change your diaper. You smile and splash in the tub. You laugh while I brush brothers’ teeth. After prayer, books, hugs, and an extra tickle from daddy, you are ready to go to sleep. The day may have been long for mommy and daddy, but as I watch you fall asleep, I realize that everything we do is worth it, because you smile.