Category: the Youngest

I’m Back

Hello, fellow friends!

So it’s been a little busy around here, please refer to the five in the side margin. That being said, we’ve been learning and growing and overcoming much over the past weeks of posting silence.

One huge obstacle is settling on a sleep training method most effective for our little Redheaded Stubborn. We’ve carved out the most affective sleep routine and have been implementing it for 2 weeks now. It has a mixture of snuggling, singing, nursing (as needed), fussing (as needed, due to those more socially overwhelming or overly tired scheduling realities) and MUCH MORE sleeping. While there are still hiccups (we’re in the teething stage, people and we’re doing our guessing time like a pro) and off-moments. Our little Hannah is having more sleep time and less exhaustion.

A second huge obstacle we’re overcoming is Little Man’s sleeping chaos – cause people it was some serious chaos for a while. Can you blame the sick boy? But there’s also the reality that Little Man is prone to illness, so the bro needed to learn how to work through the oogies since most of his winter sleep has and will most likely be (yes, it’s Spring but the weather doesn’t seem to reflect that) oogie sleep. That being said, Little Man is sleeping much better, not quite fully to “what a child should need to sleep to be at their best” standards, but much more age appropriately. And we’re beginning night weaning too since he’s MORE than old enough and responsive enough to our love over shrieking until a bottle is put into his mouth (one of the few constants in his past).

As a result of the two above paragraphs, things are once again taking a swing back to “normal” and we’re able to apply our minds to anything other than half-hearted and exhausted survival.

Oh and did I mention that we overcame lice again? (Sigh). And sadly, Big Guy’s loveably longer hair didn’t make it this time. So sporting a shorter and more grown-up cut, we’re welcoming in the Spring and hopefully nicer weather.

Homeschooling is happening more often than not (being real). So that’s nice. Cause like Rachael’s education being put on hold due to random sickness crisis is not a good educational goal here. And once again Ms. Commentator is thriving and glowing in her schooling blooming.

We’ve also been doing some fun projects and things that you’ll see here in pictures for the next few weeks. And while I can’t promise to always post a bazillion times like I was before *ahem* having 5 kids age 5 and under… I am happy to announce that I am going to return to my documenting/sharing routine.

So with laundry being ignored, a baby on my lap, and 4 down for nap… I’d like to announce “I’M BACK!!!!”

Ok, now I really gotta go do the laundry. It must get off my couch today…. MUST. I mean afterall it’s been living there for almost a week. HA!

Thanks for checking back and sticking with me.

– Hugs!

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Wordless Wednesday: Resume Skills

Please review the following teether:

 OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Wonder if the designer of above teether envisioned her skill level upon it’s creation:

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA(She really can fit the entire end in… with precision.)

Resume skills for sure!

P3263688b

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In the Morning.

Today I am feeling really beat down by orphan care. Between the bickering, twin 2’s constant discontentment and downright screaming today, my Hannah’s undoing of her sleep training (be it due to the added stress of our household, the addition of Twin 2 in our room for the 1.5 months before we moved him out, or her own demise), and now round 3 of lice as discovered once again in my two year old’s hair after the culprit being our oldest foster son. Today I just want to run away. I want to take my biological family and run away. I want to hide from the constant beat-down. I want to hide from the sicknesses of twin 2. I want to hide from the chaos of five kids. I want to hide from the constant battles and struggles. I just want to take “my kids” and run away from all of this orphan care.

I won’t. But I just want to be honest.

Not every day is glamorous. And this Mommying is really hard. And it hurts. And it brings me to tears. And there are moments I just want to run away. It’s hard to love someone so much that you want to run away from them and yet take them with you as well.

Today I want to blame someone. I want to call up his Mom and ask her how she could do this to them. I want to call up his “Dad” and ask him why this was ever okay. I want to yell at someone for the harm they have done to these kids. And I want to cry and hold them and just run away.

And I want to yell at someone for how little of a Mom I have left to give to my girls after dealing with the babies. I want to cry to someone about how much it hurts to tell my four year old that no I can’t play with her AGAIN because I have another diaper to do, or a baby to calm, or I just can’t think straight after another hard night of being up every 45 minutes. And I want to cry to someone as my baby screams at bedtime because she’s overwhelmed and tired and just flat out mad – coping with all the changes. And I want to take my favorite blanket and hide away at the bottom of my closet because it all feels like too much and it all won’t stop swirling.

I may sound like a wimp. I may sound like a fool. But I just wanted to be honest.

This hurts. And this is really hard.

And I want to fall on my face again before God and ask Him why. Why is it so hard? Why does it have to be this way? And what will I possibly do if after seeing my utter raw self these boys go home?

There’s silence.

A lot of silence.

But I know He’s listening. And I know He cares.

Joy will come in the morning…. it just has to!

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Blankey

I love the way she loves on her blanket; kneading at him, stroking the soft satin beside her face as she rubs her eyes.

It happens the same every time, a little rocking for a minute or two, a kiss on the forehead, laying her down, her turning to the left as she rubs her eyes and loves on that blanket.

Sometimes she reaches her hand out for me to pet her head a little, beckoning me to help her settle in for a few minutes. And when she’s done with the petting, after only a short time, she turns to the left, rubbing her face into her dear friend’s soft love.

She wasn’t always a blanket baby. Blankey came in after he came.

She had figured out how to put herself to sleep. And sleep hard. For seven to eight hours straight hard.

And then the phonecall. And then the addition of our little crier.

He’s gotten better now. He’s sleeping four hour chunks now.

And then she got worse.

Conditioned to wake up. Conditioned to need more. Conditioned to be overly tired.

And then came blankey. He was added in at first when snuggling Mommy. He had been a nice addition to the top of the diaper bag. You never know when the wind will pick up and you’ll need a shield. Or a room will be a bit too cold for Ms. “Running Cold” baby girl.

But he took on new meaning. Joining us during mealtimes. Snuggling in amidst the comfort. And then he joined in at play time. Peek-a-boo was so fun! And he started to taste good.

Then came his normalcy at night time. Until we find ourselves today with our beloved friend.

And while there are still many times of unworking the effects of her adjustment to Little Man’s sleep interruptions, blankey has become a constant. An expected. And a friend amidst the nightly changes and adjustments.

And I love the way she loves on him. Snuggling into her dear friend.

And I am thankful… so thankful.

She loves him.

And I love my little Linus.

Image

P.S. Don’t be worried, she has her pacifier in and plenty of air circulation in there. I check. 😉

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Open Letter

To the Table of Moms sitting beside ours at the children’s museum,

First of all, congratulations on expecting your second children in the household. The thrill of a miracle growing inside of you is indescribable, even in those last few months of “bumping into everything”. And your toddlers may not have any idea what’s coming, but they’ll learn to enjoy the company of another little smiler.

But even in your excitement my heart breaks for you both. I saw your glances and while it would be easy to brush you off as judgemental, my heart is really saddened.

Yes, Big Guy spilled his cup of juice because he wasn’t paying attention. He’s only been to a children’s museum twice that I know of and it’s a lot to take in, even when wolfing down lunch in anticipation of playing with legos. Yes, Little Man was fussing. What you didn’t know is that he had already been fed and freshly diapered, he was just having an impatient moment while I was nursing Hannah. And yes, the boys do not look like me… or my girls. In fact, to a deeply judging eye they could mark me to look like an unfaithful woman… or a woman in a really biologically confusing mess.

But my heart breaks that you didn’t really see my kids. You didn’t see Abi’s utter bliss at the chocolate covered pretzels we got as a special treat from the shop downstairs. And you didn’t see the twinkle in Big Guy’s eyes that even though he forgot his money that he brought to buy a special snack, he got to share a bag of Buggles with all of us after eating his cheese and crackers (the unsoggy ones). And you didn’t see the progress that Little Man has made in only fussing a bit and being responsive to my touch and my words to calm himself down.

You didn’t see where my boys were two months ago and how much they have moved from being constantly attention-seeking and fearful to secure and excited.

Yes, we are a noisy bunch sometimes… many times around eating time. And there are still needs to remind Big Guy to sit still and that just because he’s not touching it right now doesn’t mean he’ll never get to. And there are still needs to balance nursing my Hannah with rocking Little Man into comfort.

But my heart breaks for you, Moms, that while you may be there in your hearts some day to take in a child that needs someone while their world gets a little more under control… you’re not there right now. But right now there are Big Guys and Little Mans out there… waiting for Children’s Services to intervene and remove them from their crumbling worlds.

Tomorrow we’ll probably still be noisy, and a little bossy sometimes, and a little over-the-top excited and needy, but I am so thankful to God that tomorrow these precious boys know that they’ll still be safe. And loved. And snuggled. And told that “we’re praying for your Mom and your Dad” while they wait to see who will rescue them and who will fade away into a memory.

Sweet pregnant moms, my heart breaks for you.

Please take another glance.

Please.

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