Turbulence

It has been way too long since my last post, and I recently had an experience that is just too funny not to share.

If you have ever flown on an airplane before, then you know there are two kinds of passengers: Those with a kid and those without.

It isn't unusual to be sitting quietly at the gate when a mom with her baby approaches and sits down. One of two thoughts probably goes through your head, "Great a baby!" (thought with all enthusiasm because you just LOVE babies or are a parent yourself). Or "Great, a baby" (thought with all terror because you might end up sitting next to said baby while it screams because her ears just won't pop during take off, landing, nor any moment in between).

If you are a parent that has ever been on an airplane with your child, you know the facial expressions that go with these thoughts. The "don't-look-at-them-and-maybe-they'll-walk-to-the-next-gate" face. Sometimes it's the "I've-been-there-too,-good-luck!" face.

Well, when my posse arrived, I'm sure there was a "holy-cow-they-actually-leave-the-house-with-that-many-kids" face. I'm not actually certain because I was too busy yelling at Z to stop running away, telling W to stop putting his foot on the wheel of the stroller, keeping track of whatever shoe or sock B may have thrown, and making sure S didn't get too far behind.

We had two flights out and two flights back with a four hour drive on each end (8 hours total going out and 8 hours coming back). Needless to say, my kids got fidgety, tired, etc...

But, I was prepared! Snacks, Leadpads, toys, headphones, etc... Each kid would have enough to do that they wouldn't get too bored. Plus we woke up so dang early they should just sleep for at least one leg of the trip.

And they did.

Things went great out, and even back.

When I saw looks of terror as we sat by people, I assured them my kids are great travelers.

They've done this a lot.

Don't worry.

I almost believed it myself!

Then, as we started to descend on our first flight towards home, it happened.

I knew this trip couldn't be incident free.

That would be too good to be true.

The captain had warned us of turbulence when we first set out. It had been reported in the Denver area, where we had our layover. So we knew it was coming. We just didn't realize how bad it would be.

The flight attendants picked up all the trash for the last time, in preparation for the turbulence we would get. They had just finished up and were putting the bag in the can when it happened.

The plane moved left, right, up, and down all at the same time.

This was not just your run of the mill turbulence. It felt like the plane was picked up and shaken.

In the back of the plane, we hear the flight attendant fly across the little room in back.

Screams.

Gasps.

Maybe a little swearing (it wasn't me, promise)!

I look at the couple across the aisle. They have a little baby and the dad is wrapped around baby and mom.

This was the worst turbulence I'd ever experienced.

For the first time, I understand seat belts in air planes.

I keep telling myself, "Turbulence doesn't take planes down."

I'm not sure if I believe it at that moment.

BANG!!!

The plane shakes again.

My nerves are heightened, so I'm sure there is someone else completely freaking out on this plane.

There are multiple babies on this flight. I can't be the only mom stressed.

At that moment Z yells, "WE'RE GOING DOWN!!!"

Now, you would think that this would stress me out even more. Quite the contrary.

I started laughing so hard, I had a difficult time shushing my blunt little 4 year old while reassuring him we were not, in fact, going down.

Of course, we landed and everything was fine.

Now, I'm not sure if anyone heard Z's cry or not. But if you were on that plane, and you heard him scream, I hope you took it as I did and laughed like crazy. And next time you see a family with a ton of little kids, instead of putting on your "I-think-I'm-allergic-to-kids" face, pray you get to sit near enough to hear what will probably come out of at least one of their mouths during the trip. Because nothing can change your mind set in a stressful situation like a 4-year-old yelling, "We're going down!!!"

Fun Times Usually End in Tears

Why is it that whenever I think, "Oh, this will be so much fun!!!" by the end of the "fun" activity at least on kids is crying? I'll give you a few examples to illustrate my point.

The other day Michael and I were eating ice cream and watching a show after everyone except Baby B had gone to bed. Michael got a phone call, so we paused the show.

Then the noise starts.

B wants some ice cream!

She knows what is in the bowls.

Daddy let her taste his last time.

So, since Michael is trying to hear the person on the phone, I give B small bites of my ice cream to keep her quiet. It works great! Until I run out of ice cream.

I don't know that I have ever seen such a sad face on such a small person.

Her face scrunches up.

She looks at my with betrayal in her eyes.

Then she throws her face on to the blankets next to her and weeps.

Poor girl!

How dare I run out of ice cream!!!

Next example:

Every road trip we ever take (be it 2 hours or 24 hours), our kids do great! At least until the last 45 minutes.

We watch movies.

We sing songs.

We play games.

We eat food.

We even nap.

But come the last 45 minutes of any trip, an alarm goes off in at least one child's head and the start to scream. That usually starts another kids screaming. Which then makes Z start yelling, "Quiet!!! It's too loud! Stop crying!" Which sets of kid #4.

It doesn't really matter if we are going or coming, this seems to happen. But if we are returning from trip, around this time S realizes that we are almost home and cries uncontrollably about missing what ever family or friends we have just left.

Fun times!

Third example:

This past weekend we baby sat a friend of S's from school overnight. It was so fun! She was with us for about 24 hours. It was a Saturday and Sunday, so we had a "movie party" then went to church the next day. S LOVED it.

Then her friend's dad showed up.

Time to leave.

Never mind that S would be seeing her friend he next morning on the bus. She was going to miss this friend. So crying ensued.

I tried to explain that we can't cry every time a friend leaves or we leave his/her house. We all have families that would miss us if we didn't go home.

That really didn't help.

Now, why does this happen? Because my kids are still small yes. And because they are usually tired from staying up late on vacation and in the car and with their friends. And because they don't understand things like ice cream running out. But still.... It happens just about every time.

So you'd think I'd stop coming up with great plans thinking, "This will be so much fun!"

But I don't.

I have hope.

One day the crying will stop and I will finish an adventure thinking, "This was so much fun, right to the end."

For now, I'll just enjoy the middle.

A Day for Remembering

Veteran's day is a day for remembering. I think a lot about my Granddad who fought in World War II. I think about my Grandpa Averett who served in the Navy. I think about the family I married in to. Many of them, including my father and brother-in-law, have served in the military. What a blessing to have a rich heritage. I'm so thankful to them, and so many others who have served our country. What a blessing to live in The United States of America.

For my family, today is not just a day to remember our veterans. It is a day to remember my sweet niece, Ethne. Today would be Ethne's 5th birthday. When she was two years old, Ethne returned to live with a loving Heavenly Father. And today, instead of celebrating with her, we celebrate by remembering her.

My sister-in-law and brother have an amazing blog (I would highly recommend checking it out; this is a link to the challenge she posted: http://prayersforthefamily.blogspot.com/2014/11/ethnes-5th.html). Last week my sister-in-law issued a challenge to do 5 acts of service to remember Ethne on her 5th birthday. And that is just what I did! Now I want to share them with you; not to brag, but to show you how easy it is to love and serve others.

The first thing my family did was feed a set of missionaries from our church. These young men have given two years of their lives to serve the Lord. To help them with that, we try to feed them about once a week. What a blessing it is to have such a spiritual feast in our home every week!!! I think they bless us way more than we bless them.

The next act of service was giving a garbage bag of clothes away. It doesn't get any easier than that! I had so many boys clothes that I took what I needed from the hand-me-downs I got from family and friends. The left overs have sat in my closet for over a month now. So, with a push from my sister, I gave them away. It was easy and the family that took them couldn't be more grateful!

The third act of service was so fun I didn't feel like I was taking time away from anything more important. I volunteered in Z's preschool. I read the same book 9 times to all the kids in his school, and had a blast doing it. The book was called Roar of a Snore. Of course, talking to 3 and 4 year old kids about snoring was about as entertaining as it comes! I got to hear all about dads, brothers, and even a dog that snores.

Act number four was not something I had planned to do. This is an example of how just being a friend is an act of service. I went to pick up something from a friend today and could tell she was feeling a little down. I asked her what I could do for her. She said all she needed was a hug. So that's what a did. Of all the acts I did this week, this was the sweetest, and most simple of all. It also reminded me so much of my niece. She was always willing to hand out a hug, even if you could tell she wasn't in the mood. She never turned me down. So today, that hug was for my friend, but it was also for Ethne.

My final act of service was an opportunity that fell in my lap! I was on a Facebook yard sale page posting pictures of some hats I had made, hoping to make a little money for Christmas, when I came across a post asking for free/cheap toys to donate to the Children's Hospital NICU in Columbus, OH. I have kids, so I have toys! Way more toys than we could ever need. So I took S and we went through the toys and books and sent several to these kids who will be spending their Christmas in the hospital.

Even though Ethne isn't physically with us now, I know that she would be so happy to see the acts that so many people have done to remember her this past week. And I issue the challenge to you. Even if you didn't have the blessing of knowing my niece, I challenge you to look around. Open your eyes to the opportunities to serve. They will fall in your lap and you will be blessed. Then share your experience and inspire someone else.

Reasoning with a Two Year Old or Pointless

W seems to be ending up in my room way too often at night lately. This is a little sampling of what  our conversations are like:

Me: Go get in your bed.

W: Mine pillow!

Me: No, that is Daddy's pillow.

W: Mine!

Me: Do you want to go lay on your pillow.

W: No.....My bed (referring to my bed).

Me: You want to go get in your bed?

Silence. He's thinking. Grunt.

Me: Let's go get in your bed.

W: No! Mine! (Pointing to the pillow or bed; either way it doesn't matter much).

Me: Let's go get yours.

W: This is mine!

Me: No. That is Daddy's pillow.

Grunt.

Repeat until one of us gives up (usually me).

Now, why do I even reason with him? I actually have no idea. I know it doesn't work (he is the third child I've had to deal with at this stage). I don't want him screaming in his room and waking up with brother or sisters. If it is his idea to get in his bed, he will comply quietly, or so I assume. Of that I am not sure either, since it has never happened.

W and I have many similar conversations throughout the day. He has discovered the word "Mine!" and turned in to what I call the "Mine Monster."

Everything  belongs to him. I try to remind him that something is not his and get the response, "No. Mine!"

Every mom has heard this.

Every mom hates this.

Every mom wonders where their child learned that annoying word.

So, for now, arguments with the Mine Monster will probably be useless. Now here's hoping he gets some reasoning skills soon so I can get some sleep!

The Vacuum

The good news is, Z is no longer afraid of the vacuum. The bad news is, he isn't afraid any more because he has had to use it so much.

I was on the phone with my sister this afternoon while the boys were watching a show. Or so I thought. After hanging up with my sister, I walked into the next room to find oyster crackers spread from the dining table, into the living area. They were on the floor, yes, but they were also on the couch. Not just the seat of the couch, but up on the back of the couch.

What do I do? Yell. Of course. Because it is so effective. (Okay, maybe because it just took my so off guard, and, let's face it, I am ashamed to say I am a yeller. Just ask my poor neighbors).

Anyway, I get the yelling under control and ask what he was doing.

He was hungry.

Obviously.

Because who doesn't spread food far and wide when hungry.

I grab a broom and sweep the wood floor. Z is instructed to go get the vacuum for the couch and rug.

All the way to and from the closet with the vacuum, I hear Z say, "It makes me so sad," in a very subdued voice. His fear of the vacuum is coming out.

You see, for some reason all of my children, thus far, have had a fear of the vacuum. I don't know if it is the noise, the look, or the fact that they may not have seen it very often as babies. Nevertheless, they have had the fear. When Z was first switched to a toddler bed so W could have the crib, I put a vacuum in the door way so he wouldn't wander off. It only worked for a couple of nights, but it worked! And I didn't have to worry about my 2 year old wandering the house in the middle of the night. That is how scared he was of coming near it. Eventually, he realized that when it was off it didn't make noise and was easy to climb around. But the fear wasn't completely gone yet.

Back to the story from today.

He hands over the vacuum, then puts both hand on his ears. But he's not getting off that easy. I put both hands on the nozzle and make him vacuum off the couch. Once in a while he tries to do it one handed so he can cover an ear with the other hand. It take a while, but he gets the job done.

On to the rug.

I put his hands on the vacuum and tell him to push (with some help from me since he really isn't quite big enough to maneuver it alone). After a few seconds of pushing the big vacuum, he announces he isn't afraid anymore!

Great!

I am glad he overcame his fear. Now let's see if he can overcome his tendency to make such far reaching messes. If he could do it before he teaches his brother any more mess making habits, that would be great.

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.