Walking

When I tell people that my youngest "walker" was Z at 16 months, W and S were 18 months and S didn't even crawl on her hands and knees until she was 12 months, I get a lot of mixed reactions.

Horror.
Shock.
Awe.
Surprise.
Laughter.
Disbelief.
Sympathy.
Silence.
Etc...

You get the idea.

Well, it is true. Apparently I'm not on top of the tummy time, getting them to crawl so they can walk, stuff. Of course I have my excuses. And it could also just be how they came (which is what I think). But then I hear of friends bragging about their kid walking at 10 months! My response, "I'm sorry!!!"

That is horrible!!!

Why do I say that?

I forget, then I have another baby who, eventually starts moving, and I suddenly remember. Oh yes. Because they can move. Because now baby can get in to things that you don't want them to get in to. Because now when you sit down to type a blog post you can't just put baby down on the floor with a toy or two and expect them to be there when you turn around to check on them a minute later.

(Break taken to go find crying baby who is no longer by my side).

Where was I...?

Oh yes.... moving babies.

So what brought on this post? Well, I just had to rescue Baby B. From the bathroom. Where she crawled in, closed the door, and sat right in front of the door. You know the situation.

I tried to push the door open.

Bump.

I see if there is room to squeeze in.

Oh yeah, I'm not skinny. But I can fit an arm in! Too bad the counter is in the way.

Pull arm out.

Try pushing Baby B back with the door.

 She is not screaming and hasn't budged.

Finally I reach in enough to push her a little, stand her up a little, and maneuver her out of the way enough to open the door and save her from eating any more toilet paper than is necessary.

So next time you look at your newborn (or someone else's) and think, "I can't wait until they can crawl/walk," stop yourself. Remember they at when they walk/crawl that means the move. And enjoy the time you get plopping them down with a toy or two.

Friends in Far Places

When I first moved here, I had four kids (our oldest turned 5 the day the moving truck arrived), one of which was a newborn. The holidays had just ended. I was in a place I had never heard of, let alone seen, before the job offer. I was sad. I was depressed. I was lonely. And I was completely unaware of how much I would grow to love some of the people here.

Do I love it here? No. I wouldn't say I love it here.

Do I want to raise my family here? No. I feel like there is somewhere else we are supposed to do that (I just don't know where yet).

Do I regret moving here? Absolutly not!!! I have made some of the dearest friends I have ever had.

Living so far away from my family that I have to get on an airplane to go see my parents if I don't want to be in the car for three days has taught me a lot. But above all, it has taught me how to make friends and how to rely on those friends.

What inspired this post? Since moving here I have made two dear friend who have had to move. I have made so many friend here and I am thankful for each of them. But the imminant move of my friend has had me thinking about what I have experiened in the last few months.

As soon as I moved in I became the best of friends with Ashley. Right from the get go I could tell that we needed each other. We both needed someone in our lives to just sit and visit with for hours on end without caring what our houses looked like or worrying about what was for dinner. And trust me, that is just what we did. Many afternoons were spent sitting in my livingroom while our kids played in the play room. Then...she moved. I couldn't believe that I would be blessed so quickly with such a friend just to have her leave just as quickly.

So, I cried. I got a little down hearted. And I just kept going, though I was dragging my feet a bit.

During this period of time I started Mommy Day (which I wrote about in an earlier blog post: http://mylife-plana.blogspot.com/2014/06/mommy-day.html ). Ashley had come with me a few times, but I didn't often have a friend join me. I decided to invite a few ladies. Eventually, Tisha and I went out every week. We are soon joined by Megan and sometimes a few other ladies. It's so great to have that support system, as well as a moment away from the kids.

During these outings, I got close to a few of the ladies, Tisha being one. She has kids old enough to babysit so we are able to get together more often. When Z ended up in the ER a couple weeks ago, her family came to get and take care of the other three kids. Tisha became my go to. My "sister away from home" you might say. And now...she's moving. In 9 months I have made and lost 2 close friends.

Am I sad? Of course!

Am I alone now? Of course not! I'm so blessed with more friends. But I am still sad to see this friend go.

I have learned from these two ladies (and so many more that I have crossed paths with in my different moves), that when you are far away from family, it will be okay. There are people that will come in to your life, if you look for them and let them, that will be like family. They will be there at a moments notice if you need them. They will take your kids overnight when you have a family emergency (without you even having to ask). They will bring you dinner when you don't expect it, but need it. They will let you sit on their couch and watch movies for hours with you just so you aren't alone. They will ask for your help because they trust you. They cry with you. They will laugh with you. They will pray for you. They will love you, whether you think you need them or not.

As a teenager my mom always told me that friendds will come and go, but you always have your family.

That is true. I have had many friends come and go in my life. But there are a few friends that no matter how far away they are. No matter how long we are parted, they feel like family. And I think they always will.

How thankful I am to have been put in a situation where I have had to learn that!

So thank you Ashley, and Tisha, and so many other friends that I am thinking of at this moment. I hope you know who you are. Because I will forever love you. I will forever be thankful for the way you have shaped my life. And I hope the next time we meet, it will be with a smile and hug and a new memory to be made.

Sweet W

W is so sweet!!!

I hear this all the time. And he is. So sweet! Except when he isn't.

I saw a saying on Facebook the other day that said, "The terrible two's are just a warm up for the terrorist three's." I laughed, thought, "How true!" then realized I have a two year old and a three year old. Awesome!

Well, I think W didn't want to waste a moment of his "warm up" time.

W's disposition reminds me of a poem I often heard my mom repeat as a child. It refers to a little girl, but in this case we will just think of it about a boy.

There was a little girl (or in our case a boy)
With a little golden curl (well, actually his hair is brown, but that doesn't flow as well)
Right in the middle of her forehead.

And when she was good,
She was very, very good.
But when she was bad,
She was horrid!

Oh, the times I heard that poem referring to....my sisters of course! Never me. But I digress....

See this picture?

See this picture?

Taken moments apart, on W's 2nd birthday.

Notice how everyone in picture #2 is crying. Want to know why? W. We started singing "Happy Birthday" to W and he didn't like it. In fact, he not only started crying, he turned back and forth hitting, kicking, and screeching at his older siblings. Feel the love!

W is what we like to call an "Angry Elf."

Funny boy!

Now what inspired this post? Well, I'll tell you.

Yesterday W fell asleep in the middle of the day. Great, except he fell asleep right before it was time to pick up S from the bus stop and take S and Z to their music class. I decided to just load him in the car as is, and hope he sleeps through the class while we hang out in the car.

Success!

It's a Wednesday Miracle! He sleeps the entire time.

As we drive home, W wakes up. Screaming!

We get home right as Michael is unlocking the front door.

He helps unload kids.

Walk in the house.

Screaming is still going. The articulate, "AAAHHHHH" is often interrupted with a, "MOMMY!!!"

Michael hands W to me.

"DADDY! DADDY! DADDY!"

I hand W back.

"MOMMY! MOMMY! MOMMY!"

Michael hands him back.

You get the idea.

After playing hot potato with W for a minute, he starts adding "I ready to go!!!" between his screams for mom or dad. And, you seems ready to go. To bed. But I don't think that is what he meant.

Finally, Michael to the rescue! He takes W and Z to get some dinner for everyone. By the time they return, Sweet W is actually being sweet again. Because when he is good, he is very, very good. But when he is bad...

Dr. Patel

I just love taking all four of my kids to the doctor, all together! In fact, I look forward to it.

Now, I'm sure you are assuming there is much sarcasm in that comment, but there isn't. Actually it's true! Am I crazy, you ask? No. I'm just always looking for something to blog about and a trip with all four kids to the doctor will never disappoint.

On Monday, Baby B had her 10 month check up. And all the kids got a flu shot.

B's check up was very routine. Fast. Easy. Painless.

Dr. Patel then asks who is going to be the most "destructive" while getting their shot. We said, probably the boys. I had talked to S ahead of time and she was staying pretty calm. She had asked before we came if she could be last. So, that was the plan.

Dr. Patel goes to get the shots.

While he's gone, S begins getting crazy upset.

And it begins!

Doctor comes back.

Michael grabs Z.

Shot.

Scream.

Grab W.

Shot.

Scream.

I already have B.

Shot.

No scream.

Grab S.

B realizes everyone else is screaming and joins.

Shot.

Now all four are in complete melt down mode.

Doctor turns to leave, then does a sudden about face at the door. In a booming voice he yells, "Listen!"

Crying.

"Listen!"

Crying.

"Everybody listen!!!"

Crying quiets significantly.

"Stop crying!"

W whimpers.

"Stop crying or I will bring another shot."

Michael and I are dying of laughter at this point. I just can't help it. My kids are petrified.

Doctor repeats, "Stop crying or I will bring another shot."

Complete silence.

Except our laughing of course.

Doctor leaves.

I get B dressed. Other kids are still petrified.

"Why don't you go get a sucker," I suggest.

Kids head to the front desk with Michael; I soon follow. While standing at the desk making the next batch of well child check appointments, Dr. Patel comes out and has a grin on his face. He thinks he's pretty funny too. And he would be right! That was awesome!!! And there was no more crying about shots for the rest of the day (which is a big deal for us, especially our brave Miss S).