Things I need to blog about:

• Quin turning three.
• Potty training.
• Baby pics.
• My artist.
• Hmmm..... what else....

The lingo of a not-so-toddler

I'm bathing my once-was-smallest boy, this evening, and as he's "laying on the bubbles" I notice how tall he's gotten.  He'll be THREE on Monday.  Insane.

When he gets out of the tub, he says, "What's that noise, Mommy?".  I only hear the bathroom fan and the music playing downstairs and tell him so.

He pauses for a minute, listening.  "It's a car meep." 

LOL  (car alarm)

He calls the dogs behind us Tamale and Bicious (Vicious), though, how he came up with these names is beyond me. 

He's growing up too fast, sometimes.  Before I know it, Owen will be spouting his own little words for things and I'll notice how he's morphing from toddler to little boy. 

Dang, I'm getting old.  ;)

Cheating never felt so good!

For some reason, it's taken me three-ish kids to realize I don't do well after my babies are born.

I get post-partum depression.

This was like a four letter word to me before I came to this realization. 

I was in denial about it with Quin, walked so much it didn't phase me with Natalie, and was so ignorant about being a mom that I didn't have a clue what was going on with Andur.

I prayed and prayed that it would pass me by this time around.  I said I'd even take a *shudder* colicky baby, again, if it meant my mental status would be up to par.

*sigh*

But, alas, I was spared the grief of a colicky baby and was dealt a full hand when it comes to the other.  Lame.

I've been battling it for a while, telling myself I can handle this all on my own.  I refused to even consider medication. 

I'd have my good days, more than bad, really... but the bad really made up for lost time.  And, really, the good days were just smoother than the bad ones - I was simply holding my breath waiting for that moment when all would fall to pieces.

Long story, shortish:  I gave in.  I decided it's much more important to me to be happy, to enjoy the babyhood of my last baby. 

I saw this as a weakness, I think, accepting the offer of medication.  I feared medication, believing it would make me gain weight or make me numb or I would even grow dependent on it. 

The thought occurred to me, today, though... when I had heartburn with my other pregnancies, I simply tried to suck it up and deal with it.  I suffered for pretty much the whole time with the nauseating pain.  I thought that was my lot, so stop being a baby about it.  Tums didn't work.  Rolaids didn't work.  It never occurred to me to take a prescription for it.  My doctor, this time, recommended it and I shrugged it off at first.  Then, it got so bad, again, that I took her up on her offer. 

I never felt so good! I seriously felt like I was cheating the system.  Should pregnancy really be so enjoyable? Shouldn't there be some amount of suffering? Why should it be so easy??

And that got me thinking - why should I have to suffer now? Why shouldn't this be enjoyable? I mean, I just had a baby, for crying out loud! I should be in motherly bliss right now, shouldn't I? (Well, he isn't too bad of a sleeper, so really, bliss is pretty close.) 

Taking the meds isn't cheating the system.  It's survival.  It's not forever.  But it's become necessary and I couldn't be more grateful that my Heavenly Father knew people like me would need this, someday, so he gave others the talent to come up with such miracle drugs.

So there it is.  I feel the need to verbalize a lot of what's going through my head these days - the less I have to keep all crammed in there, the better.  Plus, it's therapeutic.

Calling in the troops

Quin is turning THREE on March 26th!! 

Crazy how it seems like yesterday I was going through this mental mess after HE was born...

Yeah, right.  That seems like forEVer ago! (Thank goodness!)

Anywho, the child is not potty trained, yet.  I wanted to wait a month or two after Owen was born.

Well, it's been a month or two.  (Two!!)

I'm super anxious about this experience... mostly due to this stupid post-partum depression I'm currently battling.

SO, I've called in for some help - the in-laws! :)

I feel I'll need the extra hands for this endeavor and someone sane to handle it better than me if it should be slow-going, at first. 

I'm so glad I have family who's willing to come when I need them.  And I sooo need them, right now.

They'll be here on Quin's birthday, the day I'm tossing the diapers.  He doesn't know they're coming, only that he's going to have a big surprise on his birthday. 

:)

Following my own advice

I went to a baby shower, once.  We went around the room and offered advice to the mother-to-be. 

The advice I gave was to never let Satan have you underestimating yourself and your abilities as a mother.  Stay close to the Lord who trusted you with these babies in the first place.

I love those moments when you realize (or remember) that you really do know what you're doing.

I had one of those moments, tonight, and I wanted to write it down. 

I was Divinely reminded that I DO know what I'm doing as a mother, and I need to have more confidence in my abilities. 

I have three older children to prove it.  They're happy, smart, confident and take care of each other. 

And they sleep well at night.  ;)

I hope I remember to read this whenever I have those stupid moments of doubt.

It's in the blood, sister...

Says Natalie the other day: 

"I'm so glad I'm not a crazy person." 

She pauses... 

"Well, I'm only at the beginning of my life."

Keeping me on my toes

Yesterday, no... let me start here:  We're getting a new couch and loveseat.  I am SO excited about this! My old couch is a wrap-around that's dark and very purple... my new one is going to be a light greenish "sage" color! Anywho, back to yesterday....

So, I was walking out of the livingroom, leaving my two year old to his current occupation  - drawing.  He had a piece of paper and a pen and was using the couch as his desk.  My thinking as I was walking away from him was such:  I'll need to make sure he uses the table to draw on from now on in case the pen pokes through the paper and draws on our new couch.

A few minutes later, I ask from the kitchen, "What are you doing?"

He responds, "Drawing on his head."

You can see where my priorities are.  LOL

Thankfully, it was only a few dots on his dry-skinned forehead:

The guilty party (eating his snack with sock-donned hands):

The victim, who looks oh-so-tiny in his daddy's hands:

Texas and Liquor

These are what I think of when I hear the word "Amaryllis".  haha

When my in-laws were here (we still miss them!), my MIL found a box on clearance at our local store - it had an amaryllis in it.  So, we bought it (well, she did) and took it home to see if we could make it grow.

It did.  :)

These are funny!

Something to remember...