Polish the floors... Not exactly what I meant

Yesterday, Aurora and I went to ULTA to purchase some beauty supplies. I got more makeup and Aurora spent her money on sparkly teal nail polish. This morning, she wanted to paint her fingernails herself. Against my better judgment, I let her paint them on the floor of the playroom. Ryan was in there, too. Somehow, the two of them collided. It resulted in an explosion of teal nail paint all over everything. Fortunately, the furniture was spared such a colorful swash of polish. My floors sparkle now; I seriously don't think the tiny sparkles from the nail polish will ever come off! MY hands are sparkly, too!

This is the mess. Apparently, Aurora was sitting right at Ground Zero and Ryan stepped down from on top of the step stool. This resulted in the nail polish bottle (which is glass) flying into the air and leaving a trail of teal about 4 feet long.



The fan was on in the playroom. This nail polish was drying fast! I did the best I could to get as much of it off the floor while it was still wet. The nail polish remover was almost full when I started the cleanup process.



It took nearly an hour to get it all up. I sent both kids to their rooms because they were each blaming the other. No one really wanted to take the fault for the accident. I didn't see a need to place fault on either for something that nobody had seen coming. I mean, how were they supposed to know that the playroom was going to be redecorated in 1994's most popular kitchen color?

By the time it was all said and done, quite a bit of the nail polish remover was gone. I went through 2 paper towels. The step stool is permanently stained with teal and sparkles. I think the floor looks pretty good, though. There certainly would be tears if I had not been able to get that stuff up. I'm also VERY grateful that this floor is not actual wood OR laminate. The surface would probably have been permanently damaged from the nail polish remover. Fortunately, there is a nice sheen to the floor now. Of course, it's probably just all the glitter catching the light from above!


And, of course, my hands were not immune to the teal's glittery splarkliness. This was the result of my hard work. I do wish that I could blame either of the kids for the mess, but the truth of the matter is: I let her buy the nail polish. I let her paint her nails in the playroom. I didn't stand watch while said teal polish was in use. Nor did I think about the fact that the polish was in a glass bottle. As many of you well know, glass containers and young children do not mix. Lesson learned. The hard way.

Over the Hill... Not Hardly!

So I turned 30. What's the big deal? Where's my parade; my pomp & circumstance? Where's that feeling that I'm supposed to--all of a sudden--feel grown-up now?

I begged Rob to do a 30th birthday party for me. I wanted it to be a surprise party and didn't want to know anything about it. The poor man, he tried so hard! In sending out the email to our group of friends, he accidentally forgot to erase MY email address from the group's setting!!! That's right, I got the email about my "surprise" birthday party. He was devastated!

So the party date arrived. I was surprised at how many people actually attended. I honestly didn't think that many people liked me--I mean, genuinely liked me. I knew they tolerated me, but... Well, let me just say it this way: We had a full house and there were extra chairs set out. People were still sitting on the floor in order to make room for everyone. It was such a blessing.

If there is one thing I've learned through the years, it's that stuff doesn't satisfy. Being surrounded by loved ones is what matters most. Oh, and to those of you who are over-saved (Rob), yes, of course, God matters MORE. What I mean is that during times of transition and milestones in your life, the people you love are the ones you want to surround yourself with and by whom you desire to be encouraged. These are the people who have helped mold your entire being into the person you are today. They celebrate with you, mourn with you and walk alongside you when you need them most.

Thank you to my encouragers, my cheerleaders, my co-conspirators (you know who you are!). Turning 30 really wasn't all it's "cracked up to be". It's so much BETTER!!! I'm completely and honestly sincere when I say you all made turning 30 so much more fun than when I turned 20!

So, to those of you who would say that 30 is "old", "outdated" and "over the hill", I laugh in your face. Ahahahahahahahahaha!!!! My life is just beginning to get good and I'm not letting a little number steal my joy!

This has GOT to be a joke. Please be a joke...

Somehow I came across some crazy lady's blog about how she wants to do a Koi assisted water birth in her indoor Koi pond. She's due in October 2011.

I've heard of water births before, but none like this. My first thought: She'll be begging for an epidural. My second thought: She'll kill the first fish that touches her during a contraction!

What gets into some people? Do they really think that birth is that easy? Oh, I'll just chill in the Koi pond and my fish will bring my baby to the surface for me, all peaceful and stuff...

My epidural wore off when it was time to push for Ryan and I was screaming at the top of my lungs. I didn't want anyone to touch me, I just wanted to get it over with and see my baby. "Get out of my way, people, here we go!" I can't imagine what it would have felt like if slimy fish were floating all around me!

Gross.

A Very Merry Half Birthday

I can't believe it is already July 1st! Just a measly 6 months ago, I was sitting in a hospital room adoring my newborn baby girl.

Yesterday was Elliana's half-birthday. We went and had photos taken at Olan Mills. I get FREE portrait packages--which always end up costing me $10-20 because I usually want more than one pose, but I digress.

We got a bunch of really great poses: In a tub with rubber duckies, laying on her tummy under a tiny bench playing peek-a-boo, sitting next to a rocking chair while playing with the cute teddy bear sitting on the rocker, and of course I had to get a pose of her wearing her tutu. I only purchased the bathtub and tutu poses. I have one of her in the tutu for every month thus far. All the other months, she was shirtless in the tutu, but this month I put a cute onesie on her. It's time that girl puts some clothes on, I guess. I don't know why, I just felt like she needed to be covered this month. It's weird, I know.

Today we went to her 6 month Well-Baby checkup. I can't believe how much she's grown! When she was born, she weighed a mere 8 lbs. 8 oz. and was only 20.5 inches long. Today she weighs 18 lbs. 13 oz. and is a whopping 27 inches tall! I don't think Aurora was 27 inches tall at her 1 year appointment!!! This girl is destined to be either a supermodel or a WNBA basketball star. Her feet are still tiny, though! So is her head, comparatively. Her height and weight are both up in the 90+ percentiles, but her head is in the 67th percentile. It's a pretty head, even still.

Both Ryan and Aurora were showing off their baby sister to the Pediatrician today. I could hardly get a word in edgewise! The Pediatrician would ask a question and Ryan would chime in about some wonderful fact he knew about Ellie (which, thankfully, his facts have come a long way from the 1 month fact mishap). Aurora was fascinated by everything the doctor was doing. She wanted to be right there! I was asked to sit up on the table with Ellie in my lap; Aurora decided she needed to sit up on the table with us. I looked at Aurora and told her to get down. When she asked why, I said "Too many cooks spoil the broth." She cocked her head to the side and said, "What?!?!?" I told her I'd explain it to her later. The poor thing didn't even know what broth was. I've heard that saying my whole life. I've never thought about having to explain it to someone before. Children are truly fascinating, the way their minds work and how literal they take everything.

So, on the car ride home, I explained to Aurora what happens when there are too many cooks trying to make soup--your soup could end up having too many of the same ingredients and end up being ruined. I explained to her that when she was trying to take over the jobs of the grown-ups in the room, she was filling the room with "too many cooks". She looked at me all kinds of confused and said "Mommy, nobody in that room was a cook!" *sigh* I'll explain it better when she's older, I guess.

Back to Elliana... She's been having some tummy troubles for a while now. I've talked to the doctor about it and we're just going to keep an eye on it. I've tried to start her on solids a few times now and it just hasn't settled well with her. So, the pediatrician is on board with skipping cereals and just feeding her veggies and fruits and whatever other table foods we have. Of course, they will all have to be mashed up and made into a consistency she can handle.

I'm also waiting for her to roll from her back onto her tummy. She's scooting all over the floor while she lays on her back, but she hates--I mean HATES!!!--being on her tummy. I'm not in too big of a hurry for her to start all that mobility, though. This house is so far from baby-proof. On a related note: I'm looking for ways to find new homes for all the Squinkies in this house. I'm beginning to wonder if they are choking hazards or if they are small enough that they'll just get swallowed and end up in a diaper again. Whichever is the case, I don't want them around anymore. They annoy me. Plain and simple.

Also, just a random thought: In 6 months, we have to come up with a plan for Ryan's 6th birthday and Ellie's 1st birthday. They're only 2 days apart. Ryan will want a real birthday party with friends from his class; we will want to do something small and special for Ellie's 1st birthday. How are we going to handle that? Will Ryan feel like we're stealing his thunder, or will he have a good attitude about it? Time will tell.

If anything has been learned over these past months, it will all be here before we know it!

Ryan's Rough Day

He knew it was gonna be a rough day from the time he woke up. Poor Bubba.

When he crawled into bed with me this morning, he stubbed his toe on one of the bed posts. I was desperate to keep the baby and Aurora asleep for a little while longer, so I wrapped my arms around him and did my best to make him feel better. He tried so hard to be quiet, the poor dear.

After he finally calmed down, he wanted to get some breakfast. While he was coming up the stairs, the dog almost tripped him and he spilled his dry cereal on the ground, having to pick it up and start over again.

Right before we walked out the door to swim lessons, he knocked his head pretty hard on the corner of the breakfast bar in the kitchen. It left a pretty good-sized welt on the top of his head.

While at swimming lessons, there were all sorts of bugs around. He had to go potty before class started, but wouldn't step foot in the bathroom because there were all sorts of beetles crawling all over the floor (it rained really hard yesterday and all the ground beetles around here come to the surface for a few days after a hard rain). Halfway through his lesson, he decided he needed to go bad enough to brave the bugs. Reluctantly, he walked into the bathroom alone. There were june bugs all over the floor, I watched 2 or 3 crawl out while I was standing guard outside the bathroom. He finished as quickly as he could and ran out--all the while trying to pull up his swim trunks. I did catch him before anyone could see and pulled his trunks up properly. tee-hee!

There were wasps flying around at the pool today, too. One of them kept flying rather menacingly around the tables we moms were sitting on. We kept shoo-ing it away and it kept coming back. I don't know what it was protecting, but it was not happy with us. As the whistle blew, I was watching my kids trail out of the pool slowly. Ryan kept jumping back into the ankle deep water at the corner edge of the pool. Apparently, another menacing wasp was buzzing around his head. He swatted at it and it must have landed on him. All of a sudden, Ryan screamed "Bee!" and started crying, grabbing at the side of his jaw. I had Ellie in my arms and started running toward him (which was, I'm sure, quite a comical sight). I didn't know exactly what had happened to him, but my Ryan only screams like that when he's really hurt.

Sure enough, there was a little hole where a wasp would have stung him. It was starting to swell at the site immediately. Ryan started calling it a mosquito bite, but I asked him how big the bug was and he said it had big, loud wings. Unfortunately, the pool didn't have anything for bee or wasp stings. All they had was Neosporin and Hydrocortisone. A mom at the pool suggested I get some Benadryl to help with the swelling ASAP! This mom said she is allergic to bee stings and has to carry an EPI-Pen everywhere she goes. I sucked in air and prayed that my boy was not allergic!

So, off we went to the store to buy some Benadryl. I administered it immediately and within minutes, the swelling was gone. Thankfully, Ryan is NOT allergic to whatever stung him today! In addition to removing the swelling, the Benadryl had a positive effect on him; he took a good nap today! After all the excitement and misery from the rough morning he had, he certainly needed it.

Sink or Swim?

Neither of the kids can swim. I mean, they can't even tread water or float. It's bad, I know. I'm a bad mom. To be completely honest, we haven't really had many opportunities to go to the pool through the years. I have either been miserably pregnant, we've been in the midst of a move, or the cost of going to a pool as a family was just too outrageous. So, it really hasn't been that big of an issue before.

That all changed within the last 18 months. We went to visit my sister up in Colorado and were able to stay at a really great hotel for an even better rate. It had an indoor pool. Rob was incredibly exhausted, but I wanted to go to the pool. Of course, I couldn't go alone; both the older kids wanted to go with me (I wasn't pregnant with Ellie yet). But, neither of them could swim. I didn't get to swim because I was carting around two kids through the shallow end--one on each arm. That was Dec 09/Jan 10. I decided I wanted to put them in swimming lessons during the summer of 2010. Well, I was pregnant and put on all sorts of restrictions, so Rob said "No!" I tried to convince him that I could manage it, but he wasn't willing to take any chances. I can't get too mad at him for that.

Shortly after Ellie was born, Aurora was invited to an indoor pool party (in January!). She was so embarrassed because she was the only girl there who didn't know how to swim. She didn't want to wear her arm floaties, but she needed to in order to keep from drowning. That was when I started my campaign to get the kids into swimming lessons--for real. Rob was still against it. I think he really thought we would be able to teach the kids, ourselves. Of course, we would have to go to the pool in order to teach them and I knew that wasn't going to happen!

I brought it up every month. Finally, in May, Rob relented and told me to go sign the kids up for my sacred swimming lessons! I about jumped for joy!

I say all that to lead you up to this week. Today was our third day of swimming lessons--ever. Here's how it goes:

Day 1

Ryan doesn't want to get in the pool. He is sure that his feet won't touch the ground. I have to go into the pool area to encourage him to get in the water (parents are required to stay behind a fence so as not to distract from the instructor).

Aurora comes out of the lessons convinced she already knows how to swim because she can now swim for a few feet under water. I explain to her that what she described is not actually swimming; it is sinking. She scoffs and crosses her arms.

Day 2

Ryan still doesn't want to get in the pool. I have to walk him from the shallow end to his instructor once again. He gets out later on because he has to go to the bathroom (so proud of him for not peeing in the pool!) and I insist he climbs down into the pool at the ladder. He does--Yay!

Aurora is still convinced that she is a proficient underwater swimmer. I explain to her that I want her to learn how to swim on the top part of the water.

Day 3

Ryan gets in the water where the instructor teaches them to--at the ladder! Yay! I see him swimming out in the water with the floaty noodles. He still hasn't learned to kick his legs behind him, but he's at least doing what they ask him to do. I am pleased with that.

Aurora comes and tells me she can now float. Because she can float on her back, she thinks we need to go to the pool so that she can prove to me what a great under water swimmer she is. I told her before lessons that we would go on Friday so she could show me what she learned through the week. Of course, it being Wednesday, she wants to know why she can't show me already. She swears she knows all she needs to already and doesn't need to learn more tomorrow. I sigh and wrap a towel around her, telling her we are still going to wait until Friday. She continues to argue with me, insisting we go to the pool today. I tell her tonight is church and we won't have time after she cleans her room this afternoon to go to the pool. That satisfies her, for today.

I can't wait to see what they get to learn tomorrow. So far, the kids are using kick boards and floaters to help them learn the skill necessary to stay above the water. I'm hoping by the end of next week they can float on the water and tread water. My absolute hope is to be able to take the kids to the pool this summer and not have to worry about carrying 3 kids through the water.

I also hope that Aurora learns how not to sink. I've read throughout much of my life that the more fat a person has on their body, the more buoyant they are. Seeing as how both the older 2 kids have absolutely no fat on their bony little butts, I'm not surprised at their lack of floatation. We must start planning more fattening meals for them!

Father's Day...

Like many Americans, I didn't grow up knowing my father. My step-father and I didn't get along--and that's half my fault. I didn't WANT to get along with him; I always dreamed that my REAL dad would come along, like a knight in shining armor, and whisk me away to some far-off neverland where everything was good and real-life never affected us. That was childish and so far from what really happened.

My step-dad left when I was 17 and we haven't spoken since. Now, to be completely honest and completely transparent, my attitude was "good riddance". If he did try to make amends with me, I wasn't having it. Had I put my pride aside and realized that--for 14 years of my life--this man had helped mold me into the woman I am today, I might still have a relationship with him. However, I am too stubborn to ever have done something like that. Do I regret it? Sometimes. Having put up with me as a child/teenager ought to qualify every authority figure in my life for sainthood. To put it mildly, I wasn't exactly easy to get along with.

I did finally meet my biological father when I was 20. I searched for him and found him in 1 day! It was amazing. I decided one day that I wanted to find him, so I called my mom and asked her how she thought I should go about doing so. She miraculously recalled his Social Security Number (being a military wife, you have to commit that to memory) and told me to try the Air Force Locator Hotline. So, I did. They had me in contact with his Reserve Unit and the next day, we were talking.

It was neat to see all the things we had in common. It was also really great to meet him, finally. It has been nearly 10 years since that first encounter. Of course, with that much break in the nurture cycle that humans so desperately live by, our relationship has never really strengthened.

I do not harbor any anger or resentment toward either of my "dads" anymore, but I sure used to! It was hard growing up and feeling like I wasn't good enough for the men of my life. And, we all hear and see the stories about young girls who are just looking for a Father Example in their lives--and how they try to find it in young men, older men, married men, abusive men, and anyone else who will fill that hole in their lives. I fell into that trap, dating a few boys who were just completely wrong for me. I sold myself short and never made them aware of my full worth. Heck, I was just glad to have someone pay any kind of attention to me, no matter how little or meaningless it was. And, trust me, to them it was completely meaningless!

I will never forget Ms. Caroline Trumble, that CRAZY black lady I worked with. She loved Jesus. And, I don't mean that cuckoo kind of loving Jesus where she goes around telling people that Santa Claus is wrong and the Easter Bunny is pagan. I mean that puppy love kind of Jesus-loving that you always hear about but only get to see once out of every 100,000 Christians you come in contact with. I still haven't met anyone who loved Jesus as much as Miss Caroline. She introduced me to Him and I have never been the same since. I guarantee you, of all the stars in that woman's crown, I am probably the smallest, but my star is there!!!

Miss Caroline talked about Jesus in such a way that I swore He was gonna pop right out of one of the aisles of the Eckerd Drug Store in which we worked and give her a big smooch on the cheek! Thanks to her love for Him, I am blessed to be called by Him as His Own Dear One. She would balk at that and swear it was all Jesus--and that is true--but I would never have seen LOVE if it wasn't for her Love for Him. He really was her All in All.

I'll never forget the first time I heard God referred to as "Our Father". I seriously did a double-take. Then, someone explained how He is my Perfect Father, pointing out all the promises He makes in His Word. As this post is already long-winded enough, suffice it to say that I was so naive as to what a father should look like that it blew me away. It has been many years now since I began pondering this truth. I don't know if I'll ever truly grasp what it means for God to be my "Heavenly Father"--and, may I be bold enough to say that, many people who have had wonderful earthly fathers may never truly grasp this concept, either.

Most of what I see of a good father, I have learned from watching my husband with our children. Now, Rob is not perfect (although, he's pretty durn close!), so don't think that I'm replacing God with him here, please! However, I see how enamored Rob is with our 3 children and how much he sacrifices to spend time with them. I love watching them respond to the sweet care he gives--the times where he participates in one of Aurora's plays that she writes, or how he plays Super Hero Squad Squinkies with Ryan, or how he makes Elliana light up with just a simple "Hello!". It's amazing how they respond to him and how he delights in them. He delights in them. Rob also sings over them. He has a special song he's made up for each of the children. It's like their own theme music. Hmmmm.... I'm seeing a pattern here: So, Rob loves his children, sacrifices for his children, invokes a response from his children, delights over his children and he sings over them. All this is done with much joy.

I know another Father who does all this for His children. My God loves me and sacrificed for me (John 3:16, Rev 1:5). Because of His Great Love, I couldn't help but respond to Him; he invoked a response from me (Acts 16:14). I am His and He delights over me (Ps 35:27, Ps 37:23, Ps 147:11 and many more). And, finally, God sings over me with a great joy (Zeph 3:17--I can't wait to hear God's theme song for my life). He does all this because I am His child; He is my Father.

This Father's Day I am grateful for my husband, who loves our children with his whole being. I am grateful that Rob has such a great love for God that he, unknowingly, exemplifies the love of Christ in our home. I am grateful to my Heavenly Father for opening my blind eyes and healing a heart of stone forged by many years of paternal neglect or mistreatment. Mostly, I am grateful for the Love given to me by God the Father, through Jesus Christ His Son, and for the daily hug I receive from the Comforter, the Holy Spirit now dwelling in me!