This…. and it’s amazing….

BUT…..

Yes, there’s a but.   I don’t like that the fact that the little cups cost a small fortune, so we invested in a k-cup.  Which makes it much more manageable.

What do you think goes lovely with a lovely cup of coffee???

They are cream cheese with white chocolate chips.  love, Love, LOVE

So, because I’m evil and like to mess with him, AND because I know he is stubborn and likes to prove me wrong whenever possible, I issued a challenge in Mid January.

I said he couldn’t cut his hair till my Birthday in Mid-Feb.

Tonight, he mentioned that maybe I’d want to cut it to “my style”.  This is his way of attempting to get out of the bet.

Here’s where we started….

After a bit I tried to convince him that this was what I wanted it to look like…..

I thought it was a touch to the 80′s and 90′s and felt like he should stick with it.

But, he wasn’t into it so I digress….

Here’s where we almost ended up.  A little greased lightning.

I love him, because he challenges me, and amuses me………. and humors me.

And then this…..

But of course it can’t stop there, because they are boys after all…..

Wait for it……

Yeah, that’s my boys.  :)

That’s how I’m feeling right now.

I didn’t get my way, and I know there’s a reason.

Maybe it’s not meant to be, or maybe God has a different plan.

But the worst part about this pout….

Is that it really minorly affects me.

The pout is for the face above and below.  Who begins kindergarten in the fall.  We learned today that he did not get into the school we hoped for him.  We can’t afford the one we really wanted.  7600 per year is out of our reach, let alone X 3 when his brothers join him.  So, I put all my hope in today.  And, while PMS is a minor factor, it stands to be told that I am self scolding because I half expected that we would get in.  That the cards we’d been dealt lately were hard, and we maybe deserved it more then others.  But, God’s teaching me different.  That even though I wouldn’t have admitted the above statement to anyone other then my hubby, maybe that’s the reason for this?

There are worse things too.  Not that I can really focus on that.

Instead I linger on the facts.  What number on the wait list is he? Do we try for another school that’s similar but would make life harder because of location? Is this whole thing worth it?  Shouldn’t I go back and work 3 jobs or even 5 to afford him the 7600.00 per year education?  Doesn’t he deserve more?

So many reasons for so much guilt and worry.  Still though, the facts remain.  I CAN’T Change this.  I can Choose something different though.  I just wish sometimes the reasons came with the answers from above.

Till I figure it out though, I have this to keep me light hearted and laughing….

There’s something about Sunday Mornings.  The still of the morning after the babe has just fussed for his morning feed.  Half awake as I stumble to his room.  Snuggling him up to me in the quiet of my bed.  Rubbing his back, feeling his sweet hands twirl my hair and reach to grasp my face.  Filling him full, and cradling him back to his bed.

Going then through the list of the day or the week ahead as I desperately try to will myself back to sleep.  Wondering how J is doing… will he be home from work soon….

Then comes the pitter patter of (larger) little feet.  And, somehow, the internal clock of the older two brothers, has stated that it’s after 6 am (even if just a minute after) and it’s time to get up.  They come to my room, and I beg for more snuggles of sleep.  But, there are cartoons to be had.  Be this the only time I don’t feel the mom guilt of them zoning out to the tube.

Today was different though.  We got up at 6:01.  Luke went potty (this is a newer and lovely development)  We fed the sweet puppies, and decided to make homemade warm scones.  J’s older brothers recipe.  They both sat, my sweet older boys, on the counter tops.  Taking turns adding ingredients.  They made my heart fill with warmth.  Then we heard the code for the front door go in.  Off they jumped, to see their daddy.  There were cries of “Uppie, Uppie,” and I wondered how much longer the beg to be picked up would last.

I know that’s silly, but Jack will enter kindergarden in the fall, and I just can’t seem to wrap my head around it.  He and I ran to the store yesterday, and from the car to the checkout, and back, he held my hand.  Please God, let this last another few years….

It is here, in the still of the sweet Sunday mornings, that I feel most happy.  I  look forward to getting ready for mass, and to being just our little family.  It’s before my brain has time to register all the “to do’s” that don’t really matter, but plague me anyway.

It is here that I know I have a blessed life and the worries about the rest seem to fade like the steam of my freshly made coffee.  I only wish Sunday mornings came 5 days a week instead of 1.

I have begun to snap photos of the babes again and wanted to share some of the favorites lately…

We start with Mr. M and I.  Joe snapped this while we were dancing in the kitchen.  I just love this shot.

Like the first photo of the 2 of us, I just adore this kid.  He loves water.  So, we combined the bumbo and bath stuff to create a fun sink play area.

Max really is just a happy kid and I think this photo captures his spirit.

Ahhh……. Oreo.

I just love her.  I love her soooo much.  She’s the best dog we’ve ever had and just radiates love.  Today she went to Jack’s school because the letter of the day was “O” and she stole the show.

Luke helping Dad and I finish cleaning up the basement.  Love the boots and undies combo.  he’s thrilled to do it.

Jack helping too!

Love the popsicle stick in his mouth, and the smile on his face.  Only my kids request popsicles in the middle of January.

Jack, making one of many shots at the indoor playground.  I loved how proud he was of himself.

]]> http://onesassyfamily.com/?feed=rss2&p=1296 3 http://onesassyfamily.com/?p=1276 http://onesassyfamily.com/?p=1276#comments Sun, 29 Jan 2012 19:37:15 +0000 Amy http://onesassyfamily.com/?p=1276 [...]]]> Before I get into my nursing journey with Max, I need to state that there are reasons why I’m different with him. They stem from the 2 prior miscarriages & fear that entails, to the fact that he’s my 3rd, and probably my last.  They also stem from the fact that he’s my 3rd and I’m feeling better about this.

With each of my kids I still worried about if they would nurse.  With Max the fear grew a bit more.  I was offered again to try and vbac, I tried to wait and see how he was doing, but after my doctors advice, we decided to schedule him a week early.

His birth was the best of the 3.  Not because I love him more, but because I knew what to expect, and I never had to be without him.  In recovery he nursed well, but not as great at his brothers did.  For the first few months in fact he was what I’d call a lazy nurser.

The main difference between Max’s nursing and the other two boys, is the fact that I manipulated my girls with the first two kids.  I would sleep through the night with Jack and Luke (even if they didn’t, Daddy would give them bottled breast milk) and I would pump 18-22 oz at a time.  On the pump schedule for the first two kids, I would get between 12 -14 oz.

With Max, I didn’t manipulate.  He eats with me and then we are done.  WAY EASIER.  I still have a stockpile with Max, but not as large of one.  Not that it matters.

I’m always irritated if I don’t get to feed him.  Like once we asked the Nanny to watch the boys, we told her we’d be there to pick him up in 20 min and not to feed him.  Well we screwed around and screwed around, and were late.  He was hungry and she fed him.  Not mad at her.  Mad at myself.  I think it stems from, a fear of “what if he quits early and I don’t get to feed him anymore.  Can you tell I’m OCD and a bit obsessed with this.

Another large difference with Max is that I’ve never fed him a bottle.  He’s had bottles from Joe, Grandma, the Nanny, other family members, but never from me.  I would feed Jack and Luke after some point, but with Max, I haven’t.  I’m not a stickler on it. But if I can avoid it, I will.

Also with Max, I’m more lax on pumping if I’m not with him.  I mean that he eats every 4 hours (other then at night) and with the first two I would never miss one or stress if we weren’t on the same schedule.  But now, I’m more lax because my jobs not as flexible.  It’s hard to squeeze in 3 pumping sessions in a 12 hr day.

Max still nurses.  We are going strong and so far (knock on wood) all is well with the world.  My hope is to make it a year…. we shall see.

I’ll keep you posted…..

I’m planning one more post about my feelings on the pros and cons of nursing.

As the last post stated, my first nursing expierence started out well.

After the first month, I had it all…..I was pumping out what Jack didn’t eat, he was eating with me like a champ, and taking bottles.  Even when I went back to work, all was good.  I was a lazy nurser.  I only did it when I wanted to, and would ask Joe to help at night, then sleep through, and pump 18-22 oz. in the morning.

We had decided to go on vacation to Disney World, and this was the time they were making nursing mothers drink their own milk.  I thought I was fine, we had a gigantic stock pile saved in the freezer, and it was time to quit.

I did this at 6 months.  For me, big mistake.  HUGE.

I rushed into it, and quitting sent me into a post partum sadness I hadn’t expected.  It lasted a few months, and I swore when I had another baby I would nurse them until they went to college.  (Not really:))

When Luke came along, we were only seperated after his c-section arrival for about 15 min.  He also latched on like a champ, ate well, and life was bliss.  I also manipulated “the ladies” and once again was making the dairy barn at the State fair look like a small farm with one cow….(does that even make sense)…. He too took bottles like a champ, and switched back & forth with ease (do you hate me yet?)

Around month #10 for Mr. L., he decided that Momma wasn’t cutting it.  He refused to nurse.  He cried, and wanted nothing to do with me.  I tried.  SEVERAL TIMES for at least 2 weeks.  Then I gave up.  Once again I was sad.  Soooo soooo sad.

It was better then knowing I’d quit though.  With Jack, our stock pile ran out a bit early, so he ended up getting some formula, but with Luke, he only ever had my milk.  That made me feel less sad… like less of a quitter.

I realized after having Luke that all the insecurities I’d had about not delivering the regular way, were made up for the fact that I had decent nursing success.

Again, Joe was there, every step of the way.  He’s been simply amazing.

The journey doesn’t end there though…. with Max I became even more OCD.  (still am).  look for a post on that soon.

I made it up when Jack was little, and it has continued down the line.

It goes a little something like this.

“I love you from your nose to your toes,

from your belly to where your smelly, 

from your hair, to just under there..(usually under their knees)”

I love you everywhere.”

The other lil saying is not ours……

“I love you to the moon and back, 

and there and back and there and back.”

I had major surgery to bring you into the world.

I’ve let you feed off my body for the last 6 months….

And this is your somewhat first word..….

Oh well, could be worse I suppose.