Moving On Up

We have officially moved out of the old place and into our very own home!! how strange?? I thought is was so cool that today, new years eve, was our move out inspection. Goodbye 08, hello 09!! So, tonight we are CELEBRATING all the many adventures to come!!!

I swear moving is such a pain, but I had no clue, absolutly no clue, how hard it was going to be packing two kiddos and all the toys that come with them. Roger and I have been married for 4 1/2 years and we have moved 6 times. You do the math. NUTTS!! I know. Moving with one child is hard, I'll admit, but moving with two is "I'm hiding in the corner and crying till this move is over" kinda hard. If only we lived close to family. We are seriously like ALONE when it comes to the kids. The grandparents are an hour and a half away.

Roger loves his new job! I'm so excited for him but I am starting to understand the whole "stress" of ministry. First of all, I had no clue that ministers were on call. I thought that was a doctor/nurse thing. Who knew?? So, we are sitting having dinner one minute talking about how we should take a walk because it is a beautiful night and the next Roger is pulling out of the drive to go minister to a soon to be widow. This new life of being married to a full time minister is kinda strange. A part of me is sad to see him rush off in the middle of dinner but another part of me is very understanding and proud. It's not like he's rushing back to the office to finish paper work and by doing so ignoring his family. He's going to comfort a grieving wife who is about to loose her bestfriend of 50 years. I'm so proud of him. What an incredible responsibility he has taken on. I just pray that I will always be as understanding and proud.

Evil Thoughts

I am so stressed out and want to scream. Trying to move with two small children around the holidays is completely driving me crazy. If only I had someone to watch the screaming baby and the anxious toddler life would be a tiny bit easier. How about this, I'll go away to Hawaii for two weeks while someone unpacks and decorates my home. That sounds like a great plan.

I feel the urge to grab the next person, without kids, that says they were "so stressed" during the moving process, by the back of the head and punch them in the nose. I know that sounds so evil and after I do the evil act I will pray for forgiveness but I really want to hit the next person who makes that comment to me.

I feel like my sense of humor has been replaced by evil jessica. I need to run away. Ok, what I really need is help with the kids. How can a person concentrate on ANYTHING with the two of them?? seriously???? They're good kids but kids all the same. They need fed, changed, cuddled, disciplined and their toys and clothes unpacked. All I can say is at least we didn't move into one of those "good investment" houses. A good "fixer-uper is the last thing I need at the moment.

Oh, speaking of "fixer-uper" when we got back from the christmas break we found that our storm door had not been shut properly when we left and had been blown off of the hinges. GREAT!!!! The glass door didn't break..THANK GOD.... but part of the frame around the door (the wood and metal) was all bent to hell. Good news is that Roger took the door off and it seems to be easy to fix. We just need to make a trip to the hardware store.

anyway, both Roger and Paul want dinner so I best go and do a little jig in the kitchen and make a little something something.

Jasper Christmas

We celebrated christmas with Paul and Anna tonight. We made a cake and after dinner had a birthday party for Jesus. I don't want to do the whole Santa thing. I understand people who do but I want christmas to be a more holy sacred time in our family. Anyway, we put some candles on the cake, sang happy birthday to Jesus and let him open up his presents. Tonight when Roger gets back (he's out caroling with the church) we are going to watch a little kids movie about the virgin birth. I'm really excited about getting snuggled up to watch a real christmas movie with my son.

Speaking of the Santa thing. I walked into a book store last week and Santa was there. I prept Paul before we walked by and let him know that Santa wasn't real. I told him that he is kinda like Bob the builder. He is just make believe. So, we continued on and the Santa stood up and did the whole "HO HO HI LITTLE BOY" and waved. Paul looked up and said "you're not real" I was a bit embarrassed but I couldn't help but cackle. When he gets a little older I'll have to explain to him that he can't go around telling people that Santa's not real.

random thoughts

i'm having a me night tonight! I've decided to stay up late, eat junk food and surf the net. Thus far I have eaten two chocolate covered cherries and a cinnamon raison bagel with cream cheese. I wish the cream cheese was flavored strawberry but Roger just got the plain.

I was to excited to what until christmas to give Roger one of his gifts so I made him open it lastnight. He made me open one of my gifts tonight. I LOVE it. It is the Ordinary Radicals book by Shain Claiborne. Roger is trying to corrupt me and bring me over to his side through books. It is working! The more books I read that he suggest the more I understand him and the more in love I fall. I sure did marry a good man!!!

I think I'll go to the kitchen and find something else to eat.

I found some celery. I know. but I LOVE celery and it is so crunchy.

So, my pacemaker has been shocking me off and on for the past week. I stopped counting yesterday at 12. It feels more like a burn in my arm. It doesn't last to long but it can be quite uncomfortable. I have an appointment with my favorite cardiologist in the whole world set up in January. The last time I saw him I mentioned the pacemaker shocking me and he informed me that one of my leads was broken and that the other one didn't look to good. So, I might be having my leads replaced in the near future. That sure does suck. I know pacemakers aren't really that big of a deal anymore but the idea of wires touching my heart FREAKS ME OUT. I've had some BAD surgery experiences. The worst experience was when I woke up in the middle of a heart cath surgery and threw up all over the operating table. It was bad.

With all of these heart surgeries that I am going to have in my life I am beginning to think I should have married a heart surgeon. "Honey, do you think you could replace my lead for me? The darn thing just keeps shocking me."

Tomorrow is Saturday. I love Saturdays. Roger is here to help me with the kids. I wish we could lay in bed and snuggle on weekend days but between Anna needing fed and Paul jumping on me that is totally impossible. How do people have 3 kids? when do they get the time to, well, you know?? That amazes me. By the time the kids are in bed I'm exhausted and Roger is snoring in the living room floor, face down in a book. Needless to say, we're only having two kids. This factory is closed.

we're thinking about being foster parents when anna is 2 years old. I met a lady at communality who takes foster infants and she said there is a high demand for stay at home moms to be foster parents to take care of the babies that are to little to go to daycare. I would love to do that. I would just consider myself a babysitter for a mother or father that is trying to get back on their feet so they can take care of their new infant. We're looking into that. But I don't want to take on another child until anna is a little older. It amazed me that in the foster care system stay at home moms are in high demand.

Alright, it's 12:30am and I think I have stayed up late enough. I have christmas shopping to do tomorrow. booooo

Humm, I think I might do the "Rog, can you feed Paul and Anna this morning while I lay her and rest just a little bit longer" move in the morning. I wonder if he'll let me? He's a good husband and usually lets me lay there as long as I want.

screaming child

Anna has been screaming nonstop for the past 5 days. It is starting to drive me absolutely CRAZY. I change her diaper, rock her, and then try to feed her. Nothing helps. The worst part about it is that she wont even eat. Every hour I sit for 30 min trying to get her to eat a bottle. She just throws her head back, clinches her fists and SCREAMS. Then she starts biting at the nipple. I know she is teething but this is nutts. I've tried all the teething meds and tricks and nothing seems to help.

I did manage to get some milk down her yesterday and today after a HORRIBLE fight.

The poor thing also has a reflux problem. If I don't put rice in her milk (told by the pediatrician to put a teaspoon for every ounce) she projectile vomits all of the milk before it even has time to digest. Because of her "little" problem she screams if she is not in a sitting up position. I mean SCREAMS!!! You can hear the agony in her cry. It is horrible. So, laying her down for anything is pretty much impossible unless you don't mind the horrible screams. She spends all day either in a high chair, in my lap, or laying in the floor screaming. I can't get any peace.

Now, my question. Why wont the pediatrician give me any meds for this?? I understand that the Doctor wanted to wait it out and see if she outgrew the problem but it is clear that she hasn't and it is clear that she is in horrible pain. All the doctor tells me is "well, lets try making her milk a little thicker. Let's increase the amount of rice we put in the bottle." COME ON PEOPLE. yes, the rice is helping BUT the poor baby is still hurting sooooo bad. The only difference I can tell with the rice is that when she tries to projectile vomit the milk is too thick to come out all the way and just chokes her a bit and then goes back down. IT STILL BURNS. IT's STILL HAPPENING.

The worst part about this whole thing is that I like Anna's pediatrician as a person. She's such a sweet lady and you can tell that she loves her job and adores baby's. but as a doctor, i don;t really trust her. She doesn't seem to have enough backbone. I ask her questions and then tell her what I am doing about the problem and she just kinda nods her head. I am left thinking "ummmmm ok ANSWER MY QUESTION" I mean for real, I'm just the mom, she's the doctor. I sure as hell didn't go to med school. I just had sex and a baby popped out. I only know so much by the process of elimination.

I think the Doctor doesn't want to step on my toes by saying I'm doing something wrong so she doesn't really say anything when I am doing something that is clearly wrong. But, I NEED her to tell me when I am doing something wrong. This whole thing just stinks.

Any one know of a good pediatrician at the UK pediatric clinic???? I need one that would be willing to knock me over the head when I am doing something wrong but also one that I feel actually CARES and likes their job!!

adventures of motherhood

It seems like I have absolutely no time to breath. Once I get finished with one child, the other one needs me. It goes on like this all day long every day. Sunday I was so exhausted that I had to hold back tears during church. All I wanted to do was crawl in a hole and cry until I couldn't cry anymore.

Roger has to be at church earlier so I am left at home alone with a toddler and an infant. I rush around like a mad person getting everyone fed, changed, clothed and to church by 9:40am. It is crazy. I know that mothers all over do it but for some reason it just plum wears me out. I never have any time to really care for myself. I guess that is what motherhood is all about. The main sacrifice is neglecting yourself in order to care for your children. I pretty much feel like I look like utter crap every single day. I don't ever get any time to REALLY get dressed. I jump in the shower... jump out...put on a towl...run in and soothe Anna a bit....run back to the room to throw on some undees....check on why Paul is screaming...run back and throw a shirt and pants on....run in and change anna's diaper and feed her....run back to the bathroom to dry my hair....run into the kitchen and put a bowl of cereal out for Paul...run back in the bathroom and throw the hair in a pony tail.....check on why anna is screaming.......run back to the bathroom to brush my teeth....... It goes on and on like that ALL DAY LONG. By the time Roger gets home I want to run away but we have to start dinner. Then clean up dinner. Then feed Anna. Then get Paul a bath. Then get him into bed. Then get Anna to bed. Then I am so tired I go climb in the a hot bath and space out until I start dozing off.

Being a mom is hard work and being a stay at home mom is just completely nutts. I feel blessed that I get to stay home with my kids but sometimes I yearn for a career other than mom. With a 9 to 5 job it is just that, 9 to 5. Being a stay at home mom, my work day starts anywhere between 5am and 7am and ends anywhere between 8:30pm and 10pm. With two kids and one mom (me) there are no lunch breaks, no 15 min breaks and barely any bathroom breaks. Oh, and there are no sick days or vacation. You're sick, who cares, the kids still need to be fed, changed and entertained. Want to go on vacation?? Ok, but you have to take your work with you.

If it sounds like I am complaining it is because I am. As a stay at home mom I feel under appreciated. I hate the looks I get when someone asks where I work. They act as if staying at home to raise my kids is not work. I have had a job outside of the home and I can testify that staying at home with kids is WAY HARDER than it looks but it is WAY MORE SATISFYING. AT the end of the day I am completely worn out but at least it is because I have been taking care of my little family.

All I ask is that the next time you see a mom appreciate her. Whether or not she works at home or works outside the home. Appreciate her. Give her some respect. Show her some kindness.

And heaven forbid moms, quit trying to one up each other. Why can't we all just get together and talk like normal people with things going on in our lives besides our children. And please for the love of everything holy, stop the baby talk. Oh man, the baby talk drives me nutts. And don't ask my 6month old questions. She doesn't understand. If you want to know "why the itty bitty sweety is a wettle fuuuuuzzzy tooooday" just ask me.

Being a mom is hard work and all us moms need to stick together.

Now, on to figure out why Anna is screaming yet AGAIN.

Things I LOVE about the house

- the MASSIVE front porch
- the BIG back deck
- the beautiful staircase and foyer
- the hardwood floors
- the very DEEP kitchen sink
- that all the bedrooms are upstairs and it feels so cozy and relaxing up there
- being right by the park, the church, the library and paul's school
- having two living rooms (formal and family)
- the door chimes
- the crown molding in the family room
- the bay windows in the living rooms
- the lazy susan cabinet in the kitchen
- my cheep house payment

Moving on up

So, we've moved!! We have maybe a car load of stuff left at the other place and we still need to clean the other place but we are official residents of the new town that we are in. It feels really weird. Maybe it feels weird because I am so incredibly tired. I'm also a bit out of it. I have a bad cold and took some cold medicine. my head is floating and my fingers for some reason look really really long. Strange.

We have pretty much unpacked everything but we still have some odds and ends laying around. I'm trying not to be to neat freak about everything and work on taking care of the kids. It is difficult trying to "set up house" while taking care of a 3 year old that keeps getting everything out and an infant that keeps screaming and spitting up everywhere. I love my children but having them sure does make things like, taking a shower, getting dressed, making dinner and MOVING incredibly difficult.

Saturday was our main moving day. And if you can remember, it snowed Saturday. I woke up dreading the move, got dressed, ate some breakfast and then looked outside. "HOLY CRAP YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!" Just my luck, it was snowing BIG TIME snowing. SNOWING!!!! :(

Colt came over around 10AM to help us move. I must pause here and say that if it wasn't for Colt we would either still be moving or I would be crushed my a washing machine. He was the only friend that was free to come help us. Thank you so much Colt!!

As soon as Colt arrived we piled in the uhaul and prepared ourselves for the ride of our lives. Think about it. Me trying my best to drive a packed Uhaul in the snow down the interstate with Colt and Roger laughing at any and everything. It was a little nutts but we had fun and most importantly, we didn't crash and die. YAY

Roger's mom and sister came up on Saturday and took the kids to their house. It was such a relief to get the kids out of the way. Paul was freaking out that we were packing up his toys. I tried to explain that we were taking them to the new house but he wouldn't calm down enough.

Colt helped us until 4:15pm and then he had to leave to go to work. What a great guy! He helped us load and unload two uhaul trips and then went to work from 6 to 11pm. I bet he was so tired.

Roger and I continued to work well into the evening. At about 8pm we finally finished unloading the last uhaul trip and decided to go out to eat. As soon as we got into the restraunt I collapsed on the table. I barely had enough energy to chew.

When we got back to the house I cleaned and unpacked the bathroom while Roger set up our bed. We had church the next morning so I was trying to get everything ready so we would be able to get dressed in the morning. As soon as my head hit the pillow (around 12:30) Roger rolled over and said "Oh I forgot we are suppose to light the advent candle at church tomorrow and we have to say a little something."

The next morning was CRAZY. None of our clothes were unpacked so we had to rummage around and find something, take a shower and rush to church. As soon as church was over I rushed back to the house and started unpacking. And that is what we have been doing eve since. It is nutts. COMPLETELY NUTTS. But I do love the house and the location is absolutely awesome. We have truly been blessed.

HELP

I am on the verge of giving up. How in the world am I suppose to pack up this place and move boxes to our new house while taking care of a teething and gassy 6 month old and a sick 3 year old. This is seriously nutts. You should have seen me yesterday. All I wanted to do was run away and hide in a hole.

I packed the car with boxes between feeding, changing, and soothing anna. Then I drove 30 minutes to our new house, went to wal-mart to buy light bulbs, smoke detectors, carbon dioxide detectors and a fire extinguisher. It took me a whole hour in Wal-mart because Lord knows why. Then I drove on to the new house and unpacked everything into the dinning room, including a screaming baby. Then I tried to unpack but Anna decided that she wanted to scream so for a whole hour I worked on soothing, feeding and changing her. before I new it I hadn't unpacked anything and it was time to go pick Paul up from his preschool.

So, I loaded the screaming baby up and picked up Paul and brought him back to the house with me. I attempted AGAIN to unpack the stuff and after 2 hours of unpacking a little, feeding a baby, unpacking a little more, fighting with Paul, unpacking a little more, changing Anna, unpacking a little more, changing Paul, I finally finished unpacking the small car load that I had brought.

I feel bad but I am just so mad at my kids at the moment. I know, "How can you be mad at a 6 month old and 3 year year old?" I'll tell ya. This is our first home and I want to do the whole first home "enjoy moving in" process. I want to be able to unpack my crap without constantly worrying about what those two little rascals are doing. And the screaming, oh my gosh, the screaming is really starting to get to me. Think about the torture of being locked in a room for 3 days with a screaming baby. It is just that, pure torture. I've given her orajel, gas meds, I offer her food, I change her diaper and she still screams. All I can do is give her some toys and walk out of the room. The screaming is psychologically draining. I want to cry.

I wish Roger and I could just go over to the house and unpack like normal people. But no, the majority of the time allotted to unpacking is spent wrangling kids.

Man alive. I am psychologically exhausted and want to run away to a beach with my Wendell Berry books until this whole moving thing is over. Or maybe I could just send the kids away until we have moved in so I can actually get some moving done

Papal

I am really missing my Grandfather (Papal). I know he passed away a little over a year ago but I still haven't fully gotten over it. I just feel so guilty. I should have driven the 2 hours to the hospital at 3am. I just should have. He was headed to the hospital because of back pain. How was I suppose to know that he was actually suffering pain from the aortic aneurism that had burst? It was 3am and I was half asleep when my mom called and she didn't act like it was that big of a deal. I should have thrown some clothes on and driven as fast as I could. I feel so incredibly guilty. I had to work the next day at the state psychiatric hospital at 7am and I knew I wouldn't be able to get off of work. Damn work. Damn that psychiatric hospital and all the crap that the nurse manager put me through. If only? If only?

My life changed at 5am on July 29. My mom called and told me that my Papal (my bestfriend, my mentor, the only person who has never really judged me for my faults) had passed away. He bled to death. He went all day bleeding internally and had no clue. I absolutely hate that I wasn't there for him when he most needed me. He was always there for me and I wasn't there for him.

Needless to say I called in to work, got dressed as fast as I could and drove as fast as I could to my Mamal's house 2 hours away. It was horrible. All I wanted to do was mourn with my family but everyone acted like it wasn't proper to cry. My family is not big on showing emotion. It made it worse. It made me miss my Papal even more. I walked into his room, curled up in a ball on his chair and cried until I had no more tears. I just wanted my Papal back.

The next day I was unable to get off of work (stupid psychiatric hospital) so I had to go to work and try to explain to my psych patients why I was walking around all day in tears. It sucked.

At the funeral I couldn't help but hold Papal's hand most of the night, kiss his forehead and rub my fingers through his hair. He was so cold. His hair was so soft. He looked so unreal. I couldn't believe that it was my Papal laying there. I wouldn't believe. IT felt like a dream.

When I went back to my mamal and papal's house after the funeral I noticed the tractor over in his field and someone was driving it. I immediately thought "It WAS a dream." and had the overwhelming urge to run out after him. Then I came to my senses. The next day I put on my walking shoes, headed out to Papal's farm and walked the fence row as long as it took for me to stop crying. That was the best thing that I could have done. Being all alone out on that 100 acres helped me to say goodbye to the person that meant so much to me.

I spoke at his funeral. The following is what I said:
Being the oldest of 16 grandchildren I felt that it was my responsibility to stand here today to let everyone know how much Papal loved his little buckaroos.

Papal was more than just your ordinary Papal. He was our friend and mentor. Seeing us succeed brought him great joy. It seemed like all he ever wanted to do was make us happy.

Looking back on my childhood all the happy memories are when I was with my Papal. He had the tendancy to make everyday things extrodinary. I ll never forget those long summer days spent on Bunkerhill being pushed in a tire swing by Papal or those cool spring afternoons riding in the back of his truck across the farm or even those rainy days when he would give each buckaroo 5 dollars and insist that Mamal take us all to the dollar store.

Life wont be the same without our Papal but it will go on. Right now we are feeling happy, sad, and confussed all at the same time. Happy that Papal is where he has always yearned to be. Sad that some of the younger buckaroos will never get to experience the wild and crazy adventurs of Papal. And confused because we just lost our best friend.

Papal, we love you so much. Our hearts ache for you. What we wouldn't give to have one more little adventure with you. Each and everyone of us feel incredibly blessed to have had a Papal like you. You truly were an incredible person.

You always told the older buckaroos to take care of the younger ones and I promise you that I will make sure that the little ones grow up knowing how much you loved them.

Thank you so much for loving us, teaching us and making us laugh. We love you Papal!

No matter how old we get we will always be your little buckaroos.




picture of mamal with some of the grandkids and a picture of the tire swing