Paddling Upstream

So I took a bit of an unintentional break due to a couple out of town trips, my aunt unexpectedly having a major surgery, Thanksgiving and my heart just wasn't in it. Things have been a bit crazy but as I write that I just thought, "Yeah really? But when isn't it crazy?!?" LOL That is in part because I have three boys and also because I can't really just do nothing. Sometimes I envy those who can just do nothing and then I get to thinking that I could be doing a million other things instead of doing nothing. So... There you have it.

Where am I now...? Well, I'm officially signed back into classes. I will be starting my journey to becoming a nurse in January. We're doing school and work and life around these parts. I'm a little worn out but I suppose that comes with the territory. I don't want to be that lady that just blogs and complains about being a SAHM, having kids, how nothing ever seems to get done even when it's done, the poop, the stains and the glory. LOL Though I often feel like this is right on cue... that's not all that life is about. I had decided that I'd start to make a list for myself as I find topics that I'd like to write about. I'm a list person. I like them. They make me feel "together". I have lists for everything.

One of the things I knew I wanted to write about was how I really believe that if you have a little faith (not speaking in a religious sense), you do the right things, you stay on the right path... things will fall into place wherever that "place" may be. I'm not religious by any means. I don't even know if I really believe in anyone's God but I do believe in something bigger than ourselves. I believe that there is good and evil, right and wrong, truth and lies. I have no idea what our purpose is or what this all will mean. I do believe that our energy is a part of our "light" so to speak. I believe that nobody's energy really ever leaves and I believe in an afterlife. I believe that if you love people unconditionally you are a good person. But that doesn't mean that you have to like or approve of the decisions that they make... it only means that regardless of their faults you will love them anyway.

I try to be a good person. I try to be open-minded and I usually accept most people for who they are and I try to remember that we are all different. Compassion may be a weakness of mine as I think sometimes I want to help everyone and take in all the hurt babies of the world before I want to do anything else. I have a hard time saying no and I'm quick to say 'sure' if someone asks me for help. My feelings are easily hurt (when it comes to people that are closer to me) because even if there are no ill intentions I tend to think that it might be my fault or something I did. I think I'm mostly a good person with a few faults along the way that could use some improvement.

At this point I'm going to head back into the whole point of this post (if there even is one). Oftentimes, things just sort of fall into place for me. Sometimes I have to work for things and other times I don't. The things I have to work really hard for are things that you can't buy. Those battles are my own. Things falling into place has sort of been this way most of my life. I have a wonderfully supportive family and I have a few very close friends. I surround myself with good people with good morals and we tend to be like-minded. They are also people who love, accept and are forgiving. They are not discriminatory about anyone's race, creed or color. They are the same kinds of people that would really give you anything if you needed it. Sometimes it's a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on or a hand to hold. Sometimes it's just a really good bear hug.

Despite my eagerness to be the person I'm proud to say I am... lately, I have not been a very pleasant person to be around. I have not been showing the best parts of me. By the time Chris comes home I am usually in a horrible mood and he gets the worst part of me. By the time he comes home I have been up to my eyeballs with children and food and errands (yes, by choice) and I. AM. TIRED. I am mentally and physically drained. We have a very strong-willed three year old and I have spent much of my day fighting him. "Sit down!" "Quit jumping on the couch!" "If you jump off of my (platform) bed one more time..." "Will you please just eat your food?!?" "Stop taking things from your brother!" And our one year old is now climbing and standing on tables and trying to do everything that his little big brother does. They both get bored and I think of the things that I 'should' be doing with them. I think of the mom that I'm supposed to be. The crafts we should be doing. The skills I should be instilling. The lessons I should be teaching. But I am just not that mom at this point. Don't get me wrong. Our children are well taken care of. They are fed properly, bathed regularly and have clean clothes every day. But I am not that pinterest mom. For awhile I was trying so hard to be "that" mom and "that" wife. But I'm not. I'm just not.

And guess what... that's okay because all that I do is enough. I am a good mom (most of the time). We eat balanced meal (most of the time). I teach them right from wrong. I protect them from getting hurt (most of the time - I have boys... bumps, bruises, scrapes happen). I have them in pajamas and in bed at a decent hour (for them and for me). We wake up a normal hour and I have everyone in regular clothes usually before we step foot downstairs.

But there's some quote or saying about paddling upstream and for the life of me I can't find it OR remember it. But the gist of is that it's a pain in the ass to paddle upstream and you won't get very far as you're battling the current. The idea of life is to go with the flow. Easier said than done? Absolutely. But I'm bringing this up because while I was driving earlier today, frustrated with my mood and other feelings I couldn't seem to shake, I couldn't choke back enough tears. My anxiety has kicked up in the last few days and last night while laying in bed the really bad anxiety kicked in. The kind where I couldn't breathe. The kind that if I didn't know better I could've sworn someone was pressing on my chest. I kept thinking of all of the things that I couldn't get right. All of the things that were wrong. I was a bitter mess until earlier (a quick visit with my aunt helped. I needed her and some perspective.) And then that whole paddling upstream came to me. I had to have that moment to remember that I was struggling because I was focusing on all the wrong things. This isn't one of those "epiphany" moments... but just a quick reminder that I needed to stop. Just stop. Look around. My life works much better when I'm going with the flow and taking my time. It works better when I'm not trying to take on every battle. Some battles aren't meant for me. Some might be. But just handle things. Take it as it comes and figure out what you can handle. Let go of what you can't.

I am thankful for Chris. And I have apologized for giving him my ugly self. I want to share the best me with him and our kids. The me that the clerk at the store sees. The me that strangers see. I'm nice to all of them. I smile at them and say, "Thank you. Have a good one!" Why should they get the best of me? I don't even know them! LOL He is a forgiving person. He is patient with my ups and downs and he loves us. He loves me. He loves me even when I'm paddling upstream. And sometimes he's there to remind me that I'm being shitty and that I need to turn things around.

I'm working on trying not to battle everything. To just breathe. I've been back and forth on working on this for awhile. Some days are good, some days are better and others not so much. But I'm trying. Just be a good person, do the right thing, love people, take care of your family and take a deep breath... Things will fall into place.

3am. Tears. Rain.

I think that sometimes things seem so much worse in the middle of the night. Our feelings are so much more sensitive. And often your wives, mothers, daughters cry it out in the middle of the night. Maybe men do too but I wouldn't know for I am female... I only know how I am and I know that I'm not alone.

It's 2:19am and I'm writing this on my dimmed iPad with an awake one year old (how many nights in a row is this? I'm fucking tired.) nestled in my armpit. Chris brought him to me when he woke up screaming. T was in his bed. I want him back in his bed. I'm tired. He's dying to touch this iPad with his tiny little slobbered on finger. I've spent the last hour+ dragging him by his leg so he doesn't fall off the bed. In the dark. I've given him his cup a kagillion times. And I've contemplated everything meaningful and not in the last hour+. In the dark. He won't stop rolling around or scratching the sheets. For the love of Pete!!!

I'm suffocating.

I'm leaving for a trip next week. With the two littlest. By myself. I can't breathe when I think about the airport and the flight. Though I'm sure all will be fine. I'm good at flying. I'm good at juggling. I'm good at momming. Mostly.  I have 4-5 large loads of clean clothes piled in a corner that need folding. But dishes are clean and trash is out. Did need to ask my neighbor for a trash bag though... Somehow I forgot that.

"Drink," says the wee one. Handing him his cup. Again.

Anyway, I'm tired. I'm suffocating. I'm struggling to keep myself. I sometimes don't even know who I am anymore. Who am I without kids? Without wifely duties? Without cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc? I don't know. I don't read much anymore. Partly because I just want the book I'm waiting for to come out. Partly because by the time that I have time I'm too tired to read. Fall is here so gardening is out. I ripped everything out last week. Or he week before? And.... That's it. I don't have anything else. Anyway...

I'm going back to school. Again. I register for classes next week. The fall just didn't work with all of the going back to school for B-Man and Little E starting some preschool classes. Plus I missed some deadlines. So. Winter. I'm worried but I really want this. I'd be a great nurse. Especially a labor and delivery nurse. There's a great pre-nursing program and then I can transfer to UW in a couple years. By the time I finish T should be ready for kinder.

Pulling him back by his leg. Going to roll over me and off the bed. Sigh. Poked his head around my iPad and yelled, "THIS!"

Anyway, I'm contemplating life in the middle of the night. Sometimes we cry. (The bathroom is usually a good place for that too. Lol) Sometimes I just want the Gods to send down any sort of break, patience, understanding, courage or whatever it is that I need. Because I don't have any of it right now. None. Zero. Zip. Zilch. Nada.

Instead they have sent rain which can be equally as good for your soul I suppose. I think you're supposed to stand IN the rain though and if I did that I might be labeled crazy and I might get blown away. Gusts strong enough to knock our power out are not meant to be tested. Lol So that's it for tonight. I guess I'll lay here holding onto his leg, listening to my neighbor's frog in their yard (that they've tried to find effortlessly so they can relocate it LOL) and the rain. And the little one pounding on my headboard. Sigh.

Almost two hours in with a baby who's wide awake. Who needs sleep? Lord knows I'll be up at the crack of fucking dawn with children who need/want me to feed them and save the world. I. AM. SUPERWOMAN. Yes, I am.

Good night. Again.

My Sister's Fixing to be a Mama

Sigh.

Sometimes life gets incredibly hectic. You know it. I know it. It just happens.

And often I post about it. I post about the chaos. The poop. The dirty parts of parenting. And often I end my post with "it's still a good life and totally worth every minute. Rock your shit homie." Well, not exactly like that but mainly that's what I'm trying to say. That life if freaking nuts and then you take a look around and you have love mostly every minute of it.

The last two weeks have been a whirl wind. In many and mostly always good ways. But still... a crazy little dust devil happened here. Sort of. (Did you see that though? The Zonie came out in me. "Dust devil" LOL)

My sister, my soon-to-be-brother-in-law and my soon-to-be niece are finally here. Baby should be making her arrival sometime in the next couple of weeks. Hopefully, before I make my trip back to our home state. LOL I know that the move was difficult in more ways than just deciding and physically moving. It's hard to leave something that holds your roots. That holds a special part of your heart. I also know that going to a place without knowing what it has to offer is just as difficult. I could burst into tears if I really got down to the nitty gritty of how I feel about their move. And I'd probably make some people uncomfortable. :) But the truth is I love all three of these people. And I'd do anything to help them see a beautiful life. I'm so thankful for them. And good Lord I cannot wait to meet my niece and watch my little sister and Rob grow into great parents. If only you knew. <3 (fucking tears LOL)

This picture is a few years old... but it's a good one and probably the most accurate to date. This winter we'll add a new one... with all of the babies. :)

Savana, Dustyn and I have a special bond. I think. If they don't feel it with me... well... they're up shit creek because we have a freaking bond. Damn it. I've always felt "motherly" towards all of my siblings. I don't know why. It's in my nature. I was born this way I guess. I'd do anything for them. And I'd shoot lasers out of my eyeballs at anyone who tried to hurt them. And at times... I may have or I may have done a thing or two other than shoot lasers to protect them.

I'm not sure I could express to you how much I adore my sister. I couldn't be more proud of the woman she has become. I've always admired her. Though I'm 6 years older than her and we've had some growing differences due to our ages... I've always loved her free spirit, sense of self, her love,  patience and her ability to relish in what she truly finds beautiful. (And her ability to take her time. Carefree.)

My earliest memories of her are after my mom brought her home from the hospital. (Not immediately per se but definitely soon after.) I was determined to be able to hold and carry her. As an adult I'm sure that terrified my mom. I guess my mom's 30 years of parenting haven't always been easy... wasn't then and isn't now. LOL SORRY MOM!! Anyway, I even broke my collar bone after checking in (on my skates) and going from tile to carpet after my mom asked me to check on her (when she was fussing). I'm sure I loved checking on her. I still love checking on her. But I hit the carpet. Or the carpet hit me? Broken. Brace. Lame.

No matter what differences we have had or what things we've gone through I think I always knew that I wanted her in my life. Forever.

Since before I could remember she said she wanted to be an "animal doctor".  When we lived on the 3.5 acres she spent most of her time with the animals. Tonight we talked about when my mom's horse had a baby. The Vet came out and stuck her gloved arm up the horses hoo-hoo and that was it. Savana wanted to be an animal Dr. LOL With all of our animals and land she was always either petting cats, puppies, horses or sitting in a bucket of water. :) She was always petite and very sweet. Her pace was slow... and she wanted to stop, see, touch and smell everything along the way. She was often told to stop "dinking around" and to "hurry up".

When she hit middle school I loved that she had so many friends. So many GOOD friends. There were a group of them that did everything together. In all honesty I think at times I was envious of the relationships that she had built. Happy for her but still somewhat envious. I was not at all like her in middle and high school. I was a social butterfly and often fell into some sort of drama about who did this or said what. Their relationships with each other were different (though I know they had their own drama, I'm sure). They had all loved a HUGE range of music and she and her friends helped broaden my love of other artists and different genres. They weren't afraid to be themselves and supported each other through some very difficult times. At times, when I think back to how I saw her, it often resembles a movie. But even if their bonds didn't remain as strong up until now they still were strong in a time that is difficult for most people. And at some point they all got tattoos of a puzzle piece and each piece was filled in with something that was more like them. (Jessie - I swear I was writing this before your last post and just modified it after she got here. LOL) They are/were pieces from the same puzzle. Each one an individual that had something special to bring to their group.

Anyway... I'm sort of rambling. Who Savana has become is close to my heart. And in all honestly, it's not until they got here that I was reminded of how much I absolutely need her in my life. How much I want her in my life. And I've always wanted her in my life... But the distance we've had hasn't always made being in each other lives (in the last couple of years) easy. I'm trying hard to not be so motherly. I'm trying to not overwhelm her with my need to try to take care of her. :) That's not always easy for me. I'm trying hard daily to remind myself that she doesn't need me to take care of her and that she's her own woman who's building her own family. I just hope she knows how proud I am. And that I think she's going to be a wonderful mother and wife.

Today (generally speaking) she and Rob are waiting for their daughter to make her arrival . I know that they both are fairly private people and I hope that this post doesn't cross any lines. I just needed the world to know that I am so incredibly thankful for them. All three of them. And that I know that life isn't always easy. I know that life decisions are difficult and scary. I know that becoming a mother/father for the first time can be terrifying/exciting/nerve-racking/awesome all at the same time. I know that sometimes life is chaotic. But it is beautiful. It is worth every bit of stress and joy. I hope that they find every bit of happiness that they deserve. Because they deserve it all. They're truly good people. From deep down inside of their souls.

So even though life is crazy and chaotic at times it's still a good life and totally worth every minute. Rock your shit homie.

I see you...

Fair warning... this post is not for the faint of heart or easily grossed out... This is my life. A life of a mom.

But you know... sometimes there are days when I just don't want to hear one more, "mom!!" or anything of the sort for the rest of the day. This includes ma, mama, madre, mamita, mamasita, mum, mummy, mommy... Like right now my three year old is screaming my name very panicky and somewhat hysterically from the bathroom because his 'poop is going in the water'. W. T. F. We've been potty trained for quite some time. After three times of going into the bathroom I told him that I'm done. I didn't want to talk about his poop anymore (besides here obviously). I was also checking to make sure he wasn't in fact touching his poop with the toilet scrub brush... again. This morning I went to clean the toilet and bathroom before company came over. Guess what I found... I found a decent amount of poop on the brush. Like a whole episode of pooping amount of poop on the brush. Seriously?!? That went out to the trash. The whole brush and holder. Disgusting. I wanted to know why and when but really I don't. I then scrubbed with a different brush, mopped, etc. Really I just wanted to bleach everything in site... but well... I can't bleach anything without bleaching myself. I couldn't fathom getting bleach cleaner on my new Seahawks shirt. Sigh.

Friday night consisted of being vomited on by the one year old. Like all over my chest as we were walking out of his bedroom. I Matrixed my stance and balanced a puking baby, the puke and whatever dignity I had left all the way to the laundry room as I yelled for Chris to please come help me. I think one of the most terrifying moments for me was trying to get my shirt off without getting it on my face or in my hair. When your hair is practically down to your butt the last thing you want to do is get anything like that in your hair. By the time I stripped me down, stripped the baby down (after using his jammied foot to get liquid off of my chest) and started the shower I had no dignity left. None. But I did have a mission. Clean baby. Clean mom. No more vomit. Success. 

Being a mother is probably my greatest accomplishment and most difficult at times. Please don't get me wrong... if a lot of poop on the end of the toilet brush is the worst of it... I'm not so bad off. I know that... but no matter who you are or where you are... being a mom is hard sometimes. Being a mom is exhausting. This week I had a moment when I really just wanted to hug a woman who very obviously had a rough moment of being a mom. I posted on a local Facebook page in hopes that she'd see it. In the moment I just couldn't muster up enough of a clear thought to say anything. That and well... I chickened out. What I really wanted to do, in the moment, was scold her teenage daughter for being so incredibly disrespectful. I didn't have enough perspective in the moment to feel for her as a mother because I only saw her daughters misbehavior. I wanted her to know that what I saw wasn't a reflection of her parenting to me. I realized that in that moment she probably just needed to hear that I understood her. That I knew that her daughters lack of respect didn't really have anything to do with her parenting per se. That I know some children are more difficult than others. That sometimes our children make poor choices. I wanted her to know that I saw her as a mom ,no matter what any of us saw, I knew she was a good mother. (I could see her groceries. Told me everything I needed to know. Just kidding...LOL) But really I think that sometimes we are so quick to pass judgment on anyone who is different from us whether it's the way we parent, discipline, feed, guide, how our children behave, etc. But who am I to say anything? I'm just me. The oldest of many children, a mom, an aunt, a niece... I have my own experiences. Some failures and some successes. (i.e. Puking child turned clean). I have figured out what works for me (most of the time) but I'm learning new things daily.

More recently some friends of ours unknowingly touched a part of my heart that I don't really ever talk about. In conversation, Q & A's, they said they thought I was a great mom. I wanted to cry. Right there, barefooted and a baby on my hip, in the middle of their kitchen I wanted to burst into tears. Part of it was the hormones of being a woman and tired mother, part of it was the moment and part of it was because I think that sometimes, just like in my experience earlier in the week, it's not heard as often as our hearts need to hear. It wasn't an "oh you're such a great mom!" in a cheesy-you-have-to-say-it way. It was the intent and sincerity behind the words. I knew that when they said it, in that  moment, it was how they really felt.

It's not always the suggestion or voice of perception but really about the timing. (Just so you know, you two had perfect timing. Thank you for telling me that what you think I'm doing is not less than acceptable. ;) You two will make great parents when you're ready... and I can't wait to watch the two of you grow in way that will far exceed anything you ever thought  you could do.)

I guess right now I just wanted to make sure that all wonderful mom, mommy, mummy, mamasita, mamita, madres, mami's of the world know that I see you. You're doing alright. :) Even when you think you couldn't be any more "off"... you're probably right "on". And whether your single, taken, complicated, working, a SAHM, a grammy, a nana, an aunt, a sister... What you're doing couldn't be any more important and life has been forever changed because of what you do and have done. I see you.

And at this very moment (because I'm too lazy to go back through this blog and change some titles and stuff) I think it is just as equally important to point out that it's not just mom's. I know that there are plenty of dad's, grandfathers, uncles, and brothers that are taking care of children. Raising and guiding. Helping with homework, potty training, putting on jammies and reading stories. You are also helping teach life lessons and helping our youth learn right from wrong. I see you too.

Rock your shit awesome parents of the world! Keep kicking ass at your parenting. Even if your kids puke on you and you want to cry. Or puke also. 

Fishing & My Brother

So I spent much of my childhood fishing.

In all honesty most of my happiest memories are when I was fishing. Fishing on my Poppi's property in Illinois. Fishing on my aunt's boat in Washington. Fishing on a rented boat at Lake Pleasant in Arizona. Fishing, swimming, rafting, catching frogs, asking my Poppi or aunts what things were when they cleaned fish...

As soon as I could fly alone (5 yrs) I was on a plane and visiting my family. Illinois and Washington were big parts of my childhood. Most of my memories in Illinois are nothing but fulfilling. I spent my summers with my younger brother, Dustyn, catching and filling jars with fire flies (which we would let go before the night was over), crossing a plank to get to the "island" so we could fish the pond, having watermelon eating races, riding on my Poppi's lawn mower to "help" cut the grass, and checking out their garden to see what fun things they were growing that summer.

Mostly, we only ever caught bluegill in his pond. He taught my brother and I how to handle bluegill so we didn't get spined, how to unhook a fish, which ones were keepers and which ones we should let go. I never wore shoes. Ever. I hated wearing shoes and still do to some extent. I'd run around on his property with my nightshirt tied in a knot at my knees. I'd spend hours down by the water catching frogs or I'd grab my pole and just get to it.

I don't have any photos of myself on hand (I'm sure my mom's got one somewhere that I may go hunt down). But this photo of my brother is what I remember of the pond, the "island" and the shoreline. Looking at his outfit I kind of giggle a little. Today it might not be as obvious but we grew up a little country. We spent a good chunk of our childhood outside on 3.5 acres with horses, pigs, chickens, dogs, cats... at one point we had a cow. We grew up with weekend bonfires, country music, trail rides, rodeos, parades our parents rode in, dust storms that would put today's AZ dust storms to shame, exploring the wash at the end of our dead end street and "picnicking" in the desert. LOL

I haven't been fishing in a loooooong time. Longer than I care to admit. There are days when it's sunny and the weather is just perfect. Those are the days that I'd give just about anything to drop of my kids and everything I should be doing to get myself out on a lake. There are some serious refreshers I'd need to brush up on but I know it wouldn't take much. To sit out on the boat and listen to the water lapping the sides and nobody saying a single freaking word. Silence besides maybe a bird or something. Dragonfly's would land on the end of the pole or on my line and then there'd be a slight tug and a another little tug and then... I'D HOOK THAT SUCKER! :)

Sometimes I really miss the carefree moments of my childhood. Before I grew up and had to be an adult. Sometimes I really miss my brother. My brother was my best friend and my worst enemy. LOL We stood up for each other. Fought each other. Taunted each other and protected each other. I was always bossy and sometimes I still am (oldest of 8 kids - it's in my nature) but there has never a moment that I didn't love him. Even if I didn't always like him. LOL

My relationship with my brother is still there but life has worked its way around. We live in different states and life experiences have changed us both. We don't talk very often or see each other but maybe once or twice a year. I just hope that as time progresses and our children start to grow older we can spend more time together and can teach our children the ins and outs of being a child the way we were children. Our Poppi isn't here anymore and that life will be harder to show them but my aunts and Washington are very much still a part of my life and I hope that in time I'll remember to make time. Make time to show them that tv, video games and tablets aren't all that is fun in the world.

Life becomes so hectic and I think that sometimes we forget that we're suppose to enjoy even the little things. We're supposed to enjoy life outside of the box. :)

A Mother's Love. My Love.

Well... Here we are again. A little over two years later from when I originally said I was going to start a blog. Ha! Isn't that just like me to start some sort of project and not complete it though? Yes... yes. I have a list going of the "started" projects that I intend to COMPLETE by the end of 2015. A little under 4 months should be plenty right? RIGHT?!? We'll see. ;)

A lot has changed and then sometimes not as much has changed. I suppose I named my blog "Blathering Hearts" because at times I'm often rambling. Seems like I can't keep my brain on a one way track. But... that's okay... My train of thought is my own and it works for me. Most of the time.

My aunt and I have talked on more than one occasion about me writing a book with all of the ins and outs of my motherhood experiences. I feel like there are a ton of blogs and mom's who are writing about it all though. Which is awesome. Makes me feel like I'm not so alone. Not long ago I was told by someone that she appreciated my honesty in my Facebook status updates. That it made her not feel alone. That made my day. If the trials and triumphs of my day can help someone smile and not feel like they're in it alone... well... I'm happy to offer a little insight to my life. And here we are... in my blog that I started on a few different occasions (each time with a different intention LOL Psh.... we'll see how long this one lasts... haha!)

Where we are today.... Today we are no longer in AZ and moved 1200 miles away in January 2014. Moving, in itself, was no easy feat. It was a lot of work. A lot of planning. A lot of tears. A lot of being tired. I had no idea what we were getting ourselves into. At the time I was also pregnant with our newest baby. Baby T just turned ONE. ONE... and at this time I'm trying to soak up every bit of his babyness. He and I have bonded in a special way and I think it's because he is probably our last one. Raising three boys can be a monster at times... but Lord knows I love them to pieces and wouldn't trade them for anything. Though I might not mind a break every now and then. Aunts and Mamaw's are a saving grace sometimes. What would I do without them? <3

B-Man will be starting 6th grade. Moving on up to middle school. I'm happy for him to be growing up (sad at times too). I'm proud of the young man he's becoming. He's responsible, a great big brother, loves me even when he hates me, is smart, caring, compassionate. I'm not really good at telling him those things. I try sometimes... and sometimes he looks at me like I've grown a third eye when I make that attempt. Sorry my man... yes, your mother is socially awkward at times... even to you. {shrugs} So I've started texting him. I'm much better at writing than talking. I know it isn't the same but I want him to know even if it's only in a text. (Our reasons for him having a phone are our own... and he's good with his responsibility of it. It doesn't rule his life and it isn't a battle. Yet.)

E-Baby, who's not a baby anymore and tells me to not call him Peanut when I use that name, is three. Three years of all boy, all jumping and throwing and fighting and yelling and screaming and dirt and grime and whining and hugs and love and full of life. He's adventurous and proud and tells me he loves me and this morning asked me to carry him to the bathroom just before 6am. And for a brief second I got to hold him like the small boy that he is. I got to feel his arms around my neck and his head on my shoulder without him yelling, rough-housing, throwing or screaming. In that moment he was my baby boy all over again.

In these moments, when I'm sitting alone in another room for a few minutes I get to think on where I've been, where I'm at, and where we may be headed. This week, almost every day, at 6pm I want to jump in my car and lock the doors just to get some silence. The noise in this house at 6pm is like you've walked into a war zone. Absolutely chaotic. :) But then 10pm rolls around and I'm laying in bed thinking about all of the things that I could've done better and I lay there hoping that my three boys know that I love them. Unconditionally. To the moon. And I  know that even if there are days when I could've done better or I think I've screwed up... I'm still a great mom. I try to be better than I was the day before and I try to practice my patience (though that can be a struggle). I do the best I can and I try to remember that these years will pass; they'll be grown men someday. They won't be my little babies/boys in the sense that they are now. Not with little hands, little feet or baby fine hair... They'll be too old or too cool to hold my hand or give me a kiss... but I'll still be their mom. I'll always be their mom. I'll always be the one that they'll turn to when they need what only I can give them. A mother's love.

Teacher Baskets

As we're nearing the beginning of the new school year I decided that I wanted to put together a teacher basket for B and my nephew D the Dude. B will be starting 4th grade! Can't believe it! And D will be starting kindergarten. I remember when he came to live with me... he was so little. Sweet. Shy. Now he's going into the great big world of SCHOOL!! 

D had broke his leg a few weeks back and we've been rotating babysitting duty between the grandma's and the aunts since he got his giant green cast (that ultimately received a giant red Angry Bird and lots of signatures). What can I say besides he's being raised by a tribe? :)

angry bird in action!

We're on week 3 and he's quite mobile but still slow moving and a little difficult at times. It's kind of gross... and dirty... and stinky. Poor kid! Anyway, both boys start school on Monday and meet their teacher's tonight. B found out that his teacher's name is Mrs. Blakely and D's school won't tell them until the day of meet the teacher. So weird! So his teacher basket says "teacher" ha! 

With all of that being said... Here's the finished product!

teacher baskets

Each basket includes:

1 pack of pencils

1 pack of red pens

1 cup pencil holder

1 ruler

1 bottle of hand sanitizer

1 pack of notecards

1 jar of smarties

1 apple slice/peanut butter holder

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I did most of my shopping at the Dollar Tree and Fry's. Most school supplies are on sale right now and each basket was about $15. Not too bad considering I had to buy the filling for the basket as well as baskets. The most expensive item were the apple holder. Super cute though and I couldn't pass them up as they were under $5!

red apple container to hold apple slices and peanut butter

I group the pens and pencils ($0.99 each) together and wrapped them in a piece of tape to hold together better and then tied them with a piece of ribbon. I ended up sticking a bit of brown packaging paper ($1 @ the dollar store) at the bottom of the cup to prop them up a bit higher. I used file folder labels to write "teacher" and "Blakely" in red Sharpie pen and just trimmed them down to size to wrap around the pencils. Some of my labels weren't sticking as well and I ended up needing to add a bit of tape to help it stick.

teacher's pencils

teacher's red pens

pencil cup

I found 7 count eraser packs at Fry's for less than $0.50 each so I bought 4 and put two in a pack and added a cute little tag at the top. I stapled the folded paper over the top and wrote on the back "To right all of the little wrongs."

erasers in cellophane and tagged

I found this really cute idea via Pinterest on these Smartie jars. I bought the jars ($1 @ the dollar store) and put a little bit of the filling in the bottom and added one bag of Smarties ($1 @ the dollar store). I then used my own craft paper to add the little tag. I had paper that looked like a cork board and yellow card stock that looked like Post-Its. I also had little star jewels that I glued on for the "star student". I had gift ribbons at the dollar store awhile back. I ended up just taking the staple off of it and tied pieces of it on with a piece of craft string/rope (no idea what that stuff is called!!).

SMARTIES!

I then added a bottle of hand sanitizer that I wrapped in craft paper that looked like writing paper (the kind you used to use to practice your letters in elementary! Love it!) and added a tag that said "Teacher: Takes a hand, opens a mind and touches a heart".

I also included a small pack of blank notecards with envelopes that I wrapped in string/rope and added a tag with the quote, "How beautiful a day can be when KINDNESS touches it! - George Elliston" that I had found online. I'm a firm believer in "thank yous" and really believe that even the smallest gesture of a card can fill someone's day with happiness. I love getting good mail... like notes. Or money. Or coupons. Or samples. Or magazines. 

And LASTLY, I made each teacher a card and with our contact info and asked that she contact us if ever there is a need for help. On my nephew's card I offered any volunteer work if I'm available. Like I said, he's raised by a tribe and I love these boys to pieces!

As for the Family Binder I was working on... I've been having issues printing... {sigh} so I'll attack that task this weekend. :) Happy Thursday!