The Adventure Wagon

Little Freya

2016-01-19T17:24:00.001-06:00

I understand why some people might not like birth stories. I have to say I never used to care for them much either, until Seamus was born. But, ridiculous as it is to say, I feel like its something I am good at- and I want to tell anyone who wants to read about it all about it. Its not really fair that the thing I am good at in life is such a sensitive and awkward topic for people to talk about. If only I had ten foot arms and could swim like Michael Phelps.

But alas, I am cursed with average arms and a weird super power. So be it. If you wish to read about a women and her child's birth story, please stay. This is mostly here for me, but your welcome to experience through words how it felt.

Saturday, December 19th, we had gone down to Ft. Collins as a family for the day. My due date wasn't till the 23rd, and I have always gone over, so I wasn't expecting anything to happen. We were headed back home around 6 pm, and there were still a few things I needed to get at the store that I felt very urgent I needed to get. They were things mostly to finish freezer meals, but just in case I didn't make it till Monday- I wanted to have them. So I planned on going to the store once we got home and dropped off the kids and Joe. Also on the way home, I felt two contractions. But they were small, and I didn't say anything about them, I didn't want to get overly excited.

Freya- 1 month

Sunday morning around 5 am I woke up to go to the bathroom and I started to have some more contractions. They were not intense or often, but I was to anxious to be able to sleep so after about 30 min I got up, and shortly after Sariah and Seamus both woke up (they have both been early risers since we moved). After getting them breakfast and just cleaning for a bit, I felt tired enough to try to sleep. I went back to bed, and fell back asleep till 8 am. When I woke up the contractions had stopped, so I decided to head to church (which we were late for, since it starts at 9). All through church I noticed that whenever I got up and walked around I would feel a lot of pressure. I wasn't having any more contractions, but I definitely could tell that walking was doing something.

All through church I kept getting asked when I was due, and people were so surprised to here Wednesday! My mom was not arriving till Tuesday, and I was hoping to stay pregnant till she arrived so she was around to watch the kids- because we had no back up plan. Luckily, someone at church fully volunteered to help out if I went into labor before my mom came.

Church ends at noon, and when I stood up to go find the rest of my family after my class was done, I had to lean against the wall as a contraction started. I remember that specifically because I had to brace myself as my children ran toward me to give me a hug. That was the start of the contractions. They were about 10 minutes apart, and not strong- but they kept up. When we got home Joe asked if I wanted to go walking or do something to progress the contractions, but I couldn't decide. Ultimately I said no and though I wanted to finish my freezer meals, Joe told me to sit down and we watched a movie. Around three Joe had to leave to go Home teaching (visiting people for a church assignment). I sarcastically joked at him for making an appointment when I was in labor, but I told him to go and just keep his phone on him and be ready to leave if I called him. When he left the contractions were almost 15 min apart, they had slowed down, and I was almost thinking the baby might not come today.

Then around 3:30, the contractions went from 15 min apart, to the next one being 10 min apart, to seven min apart. I texted Joe that he should think about coming home. He said he would be home in less then 30, and asked how serious It was. And oddly enough, the next contraction went back to ten min, so I told him not so much. However, the contractions went even shorter after that, between 5-6 min. And while I still planned Joe on being home soon, he understood my response differently and wasn't home for almost another hour. In that time I never stopped pacing as I called the lady at church and told her we would be dropping the kids off soon, finished packing my hospital bag (wallet, Charger, etc.), and took the dogs to the bathroom (which is more difficult than it sounds seeing as we live on the 3rd floor). When Joe walked through the door my contractions were 3 min apart (at least), and the kids and I were ready to go instantly.

We dropped me off first, but I had only registered online- and had never been to the hospital before, so I had no clue where to go. After calling the hospital we finally figured out the right door. I guess Sunday afternoons are slow day, because the hospital looked as deserted as a scene from the Walking Dead. I walked around and finally found my way to the maternity ward. I walked in, had to make a phone call to a very calm man that I was in labor and needed help, who then walked out on door, past me, into the triage/delivery area to get a nurse, who calmly, asked me how she could help me.

Nurse: How can I help you?

Me: I am in labor (Trying to be very nice even though I was very frustrated about the lack of people around to help).

Nurse: Why do you think your in labor?

Me: Having contractions every 2-3 minutes.

Nurse: Has your water broke?

Me: No, but it never has.

Nurse: Oh, so this isn't your first baby? (Starting to believe me)

Me: No, it's my third. (Nurse gets it a bit more).

Unfortunately, not all my registration went through so I have to answer all the questions over again in between my peaceful breathing =). She starts to monitor the baby, and then she checks me and is surprised and asks the resident doctor to check me, who is also surprised to find that I am fully dilated!

Apparently people don't normally talk and smile when they are 10 ml dilated?

Anyways, they were very shocked and surprised and asked me to let them get gloves on before the baby came- I appreciated that they finally understood my discomfort.

However, I didn't feel like pushing at all.

The wheeled me into the delivery room, and the happiest thing I have ever seen was my Husband waiting for me. He had dropped of the kids and come back, and seriously- I was almost worried I would be delivering this baby without him, and having to answer all those questions by myself, I really missed that man.

So, I got into the bed and they had a third nurse check me (they were all very skeptical that I was already dilated), and called my dr. who said he would be here soon. And, true to his word, and definitely to his credit, he was there ten minutes later, breathing hard like he had been running to get there. That sort of action is appreciated by the women who had her legs open for her the world to see as she births a baby.

And then we waited. Apparently it was now all up to me! And the baby. Whenever I felt like pushing, I was good to go! Except the problem was, that I didn't feel like pushing. And I was uncomfortable, I did not want to be sitting down- and my back hurt! I had asked if we could get an epidural, but the anesthesiologist came in and said that since I was fully dilated, they would rather not give me one and just told me to push it out! Which was actually nice, and so I said Ok, I can do this. So I felt foolish just sitting there while everyone waited for me, so eventually I began to push. I realized that it was all up to me- and I might as well start this process and get it over with.

Honestly, I was really scared about this birth. Sariah I had an epidural, but Seamus I didn't have a chance because I was already dilated and he came too soon. And I remembered the pain, it was lame.

Also, with Sariah and Seamus I lost weight and they were both 'big' babies (over 8 lbs.). This pregnancy I gained weight, and so I was convinced I would be delivering a 10 lb. baby. I was really scared of that, of the tearing and if I would be able to do it or not. So, anyways, that fear (and I promised I did a lot of exercises to get me pumped and ready for this), played a lot when it came to pushing I think.

Anyways, I started pushing. But you know, it takes a while to get into the rhythm of pushing a person out of you. Especially when after every push I felt like rolling over just to get off my back (Yes, SPOILER ALERT, it was a back labor).

The nurses were FANTASTIC, and I loved having Joseph next to me holding my hand, and being close to me. He has always been there for every delivery, but I just wanted him there even more this time.

I felt very surreal. I knew that I had to push the baby out, but I was worried about the pain- so I would push, it would get painful, and then I would back off. And in my head, I had no idea how to get past that.

The nurses kept talking to me, trying to "distract me" (like that's possible). My doctor was talking to the resident doctor like I wasn't there- which at the time bothered me, but looking back it was a blessing. Because I heard him tell the resident "She is pulling back when it get's too painful, which is stopping the baby from moving down" and I knew he was right. I knew I had to face it and just go for it. So I did. I finally figured where to push, and I just wanted her out.

Did I pee? Yep.

Did I poop? Probably.

Did I feel bad that I kept putting my foot down in whatever body fluids there were, and the nurse and Joe had to hold my feet? Nope.

I was on a groove. I heard the doctor tell me how fascinating this birth was, watching the baby wiggle her head down, like she was trying to get out on her own. I heard him compliment my perfect pelvis. I heard them all telling me how good I was doing, smiling and breathing. I heard them tell me how close she was, and one more push. And then them all screaming and telling me to stop, and breathe- which I swear I try to do, but it is not easy.

Then finally I could keep pushing, and she was here.

Best feeling ever. Seriously. Often I think of the best feelings ever. Like when you wait in a long line to go to the bathroom and when you finally get to go- best feeling. Of when you get to waddle out of a Chinese buffet- best feeling. Or when you wake up after sleeping through the night soundly- best feeling.

But seriously. The comfort your body can resume after you push a person out of you, that is so amazing. Not so amazing? The 'massage' the dr gives your stomach to get everything else out.

Sorry for the detour.

Anyways, they put Freya on me instantly. Goopy and purply baby goodness and everything. Her ears looked like little elves (apparently a sign she was early), and she was so little.

She weighed in at 7.5, and 20 1/2" long. Approximately 6:29 pm.

She is beautiful.

Little Freya

We have arrived

2015-09-11T15:23:00.003-05:00

We made it to Colorado.

It was a long trip. Not just the 500 mile drive. But the dealing of (almost) listing a house and movers and goodbyes and oh my goodness it never ends.

Let's just say we are quite happy to be together and stay put for a bit.

Hello, Colorado. Mind if we stay a while?

Regrets

2015-09-11T15:23:00.001-05:00

I regret spending time reading what my "friends" on Facebook think instead of watching my children grow.

I regret spending that week wathxinrf every episode of the newest season on Netflix that I can instead of reading more to my kids.

I regret that in a few weeks Sariah will tart preschool, and I want all those last 4 years back.

I think regrets are good. I think it shows that we have made mistakes and are growing.

I think if I did spent all my time with my kids I would be ready for them to leave the nest the day they turn 18, and I don't want to be ready for that.

I like this point in life. I like having littles. I want them to stay this way.

Facing our fears

2015-08-27T14:14:00.001-05:00

I grew up in the same city, in the same house, in the same room. Things in my life were very consistent.

Except, you know, change. And specifically, change with people. People were always moving and leaving. I hated it, obviously.

But as we move and grow, I have learned to embrace change. It can still suck, and make me cry and angry, but the new fear I have learned to loathe is stress.

Every time our lives change, I become overwhelmed and stressed out. I try hard to stay positive, and know that this trial in our lives will too pass, but it's hard. It's hard not to just break down and cry in a corner. It's hard to keep working, praying, and staying positive.

I have felt horrible about not keeping up better with my blog and our lives.

I believe I have mentioned on here that we moved to South Dakota. We did this Sept of 2014. That November we bought a house. A "cosmetic" fixer-upper as I will call it.

We have LOVED having a house.

The kids have LOVED having a house.

The dogs have LOVED having a house.

So many bedrooms, a laundry room, a backyard, garage, a place of our own with our own mail box even.

But, Joe didn't care for his job here. You know, the whole reason we moved to South Dakota. He started looking and applying for new jobs back in February. His boss found out a few weeks later ("perks" of a small town), but soon it was realized that this was best for everyone and he got support.

But nothing promising was happening. We had been told Joe had about 3-5 years with his current job to "prove himself", so we were not worried about not having a job, it just wasn't covering our family financially enough. I started a part time job, Joe worked hard and long hours, and we were both getting frustrated.

We really do like Pierre where we live. But there is a certain attitude we both face, unprofessional and not respecting education, that we both resented.

Finally, a Jon came up that was promising within The company Joe worked for and he was perfect for it. All we were waiting for was the official offer. But after a few weeks, it never came. And the job closed, unfilled.

During this time we went fishing, camping, celebrated birthdays and holidays and saw family. We were making the most out of this place that we lived. Joe had also been applying and interviewing for other jobs.

The day or two after that job closed, Joe was informed he was being laid off. Luckily, he had just had a really promising interview the week before. He called gem up, and they said "hold on- you will be hearing from HR soon."

Joe broke all this news to me by taking me out to lunch and saying "good news is, that I hated that job and now I don't have to go back!"

It really was the best thing we could have done for each other at the time. A date to celebrate the end of an era.

The next day Joe got the official offer with his new company, and it truly was more than we were expecting. We felt blessed.

The only thing we had left to do, was all of the hard parts. Moving, working on our house, selling it, and starting over a year from when We had just moved and started over.

So that's what life has been like for us, just to get you all caught up a little bit more.

I am 23 weeks 1 day pregnant with baby #3, and go in next week for a follow up ultrasound for cervic Previa.

Séamus just turned 2 on Tuesday, and Sariah turns 4 on Friday.

We are painting our house, replacing carpet, fixing holes, replacing windows, and causing a whole lot of stress for us that I can't wait to be over.

Every day I want, and normally do, cry. It's been a short journey, but I have to admit it's been hard. And I truly haven't even gotten to most of the "trial" stuff even.

But today, I am finally starting to see that end of the tunnel.

At least for this chapter.

And it looks oh, so good.

Onward!

2015-08-23T21:02:00.001-05:00

BLOG

life has happened.

We have lived in South Dakota for about 10 months, and last month I finally got my SD drivers license.

We bought a house in late November, moved in right before Christmas.

I got a job working at a daycare.

My parents came out to visit us early July, and we went camping. Sariah loved it.

We bought a camper, have gone fishing, made friends, and gotten to know this crazy stage that no one ever talks about.

And now, we are moving.

To Colorado, for a new job for Joe. In a few weeks. It's scary, exciting, and overwhelming. I am sort of exhausted thinking about it.

I tell Sariah we are moving to Colorado and will go to a new preschool and make new friends. That excites her. Her excitement and asking when we are going to Colorado everyday helps.

Because honestly, I am scared. Not hair of the moving process- but that for the last 3 years, ever since we moved to the Midwest, we have been trying to get back west. And now it's happening, and I fear I had succumbed to all the stereotype fears the Midwest talks about the west.

It's new, but we have had lots of new lately.

It's unexpected.

It's an adventure.

I live in a land of Pop and Supper

2015-08-17T22:01:00.001-05:00

I live in a land of Pop and Super.

Of basements and tornados and all sorts of weather.

I still feel like a little girl, experiencing this whole great big world.

Going from place to place, and stopping in between.

To them I am crazy.

"What brought you out here?"

"Oh you know," I say, "some robbery of a kind".

I came from a place of soda and diner.

Of land slides and earthquakes and all kinds of trouble.

People don't seem to understand,

How it is so grand.

But that's ok, they live in their own little bubble.

So I here I go walking

Into the unseen

Looking for a new kind of destiny.

Let Them Be Little

2015-04-25T12:57:00.001-05:00

Yesterday I went swimming with some friends and their children.

This is a weekly occurrence for our group, and with 7 kids 6 & under and 3 adults, we are getting this routine down to a science. We have been doing this for about 2-3 months now. I also noticed yesterday and that we becoming more comfortable with our bodies and selves around each other too. Not always running to the bathroom to change or hiding our bodies.

I learned yesterday, that sometimes its not bad to do that either.

As I was getting my swim suit on, my friends little 4 year old boy asked me
"Why do you have hair in your arm pits?"
(At first I thought he was asking why do I wear my armpits, which made it even more embarrassing.)
"Because I didn't shave" I replied with a sheepish grin.

To which his older, 6 year old sister said, "YOU DON'T SHAVE???" Like I ate the last of the ice cream of something.

Let them be little. And let only a 4 & 6 year old make you question your body image...

Teach 'em when their young

2015-03-31T20:57:00.003-05:00

I knew I was going to have to teach my children how to walk.

I knew I was going to have to help them yean off of something; nursing, bottles, Sippy cups, pacifiers, etc.
I knew I was responsible for rearing the perfect blend of independence, obedience, kindness and courage in my children.
I knew I was going to have to help them learn to share.
I knew I was going to have to teach them to potty train. To ride a bike, drive a car, learn their ABC's, and so on and so forth.

But I wasn't prepared for teaching them about the real world, and letting them deal with it.
I should have been. But I am not.

Today, Sariah picked a book out of the library that was titled "You wouldn't want to be a nurse during the Civil War". For a cartoon children's book, it was pretty graphic. And it was hard to explain it to Sariah. To explain death, war, anger towards another to the point of hurting them.

More specifically, the other day Sariah pooped outside.
I mean, it was sort of funny. A bunch of kids were outside at church (around dusk) playing tag or hide-n-go seek, when a few older kids came and told me Sariah pooped outside. I walked around the building and found the 'crime scene'. Right it front of a main entrance, right on the cement. Sariah was sitting around a corner about 15 feet away. I asked the older kids if anyone saw her do it, and no one did- but a few of them did see her standing up pulling up her pants.

I walked around and found Sariah, an older kid keeping watch of her, but Sariah sitting by herself, looking very, solemn.
I knelt down and talked to Sariah, she told me she pooped (and pee'd, but no one else seemed to notice). She didn't say much else, and didn't understand my questions about the other kids laughing/saying it was gross at her. She was confused about their reactions. She didn't poop in her underwear. She did right. She didn't understand why they were reacting so odd.

And it made me want to cry. I mean, the whole situation was sort of funny. And I am glad to know that I can take her camping without difficulty in that department, but my little girl got her feelings hurt and she has no clue. No clue that the kids thought what she did was gross. No clue that what she did was awkward.

And I am supposed to teach her to just accept it, and move on. Don't let it phase her. Just a scratch.

It sucks.
It sucks that she has to learn that the world is going to be mean.
And I know she has to. I told Joe this story and how sad it made me. Then he said it was good. These are the things that the older kids need to teach her. The things that I can't, the socially acceptable behavior that doesn't always occur at home.

Sariah is young enough, it is just a scratch on the surface for her. She has moved on.
But it was more than a scratch for me. It was much deeper, realizing how much I want to protect my children, and realizing how mean the world can be without me even realizing it. But also a slap in the face to how much I need to be the best I can be for her, to be an example about how to take things and keep moving on.

Working on Goals

2015-03-16T11:21:00.000-05:00

The rule with goals is, your supposed to write them down. Have steps, and look at it often for any progress to be made and your whole plan to work.

I have been hearing about the proper form of goal setting since I was at least 12. And I always made the list, but never the steps. To much work, to scary to actually put an action to your plan.

I am not doing much with my self. I suppose some people might argue this, but I am not happy with myself. I see my friends on facebook who are chasing dreams, their own dreams for themselves, and I am jealous.

Jealous for no good reason, either. I can chase my own dreams to. I just need to move. I need motivation. I need a plan.

I want to publish a novel.

I want to have another baby (reliant on other factors)

I want to love myself.

I want to be healthier. Eat healthier. Live healthier. Lose weight.

I want to be happy.

I want to be organized.

I want to be clean, mostly my house.

Those are my goals.

Mainly the first four. I think the rest will fall into place as I get my life in order.

Step 1. Blog. Write. Daily.

Really, I may not blog daily. I want to have content, not just fluff- and I feel like I have forgotten how to write. But I want to write creatively, so I am promising myself to write each day for 15 minutes.

I need to remember how to write. Find my voice. Polish my stuff. I want to start submitting things, magazine articles, short stories, even poems- soon. I need to push myself to get out there.

Step 2. Tell myself good things daily.

I have heard it said before to tell yourself compliments, but it finally clicked that I can do it. That telling myself good things can help me. So I will tell myself one good thing each day. I am beautiful. I have potential to write. I believe in myself.

Step 3. Work out 3X a week.

This has actually become harder since I started working (of course, I am busier!), but now that it is getting warmer outside (It was 83 here yesterday!), I can WALL a lot more. I can walk to work, to church, etc. I can reach that 10,000 steps a day goal. Also, I am working on cutting out drinks other than water. I still allow milk, and the occasional special time drink. I have only been at this a week, and have had only one soda, one apple juice, and 2 yoohoos (ok, the yoohoos were a bit on the ridiculous side, but they were in our house and Joe get them for me so I had to finish them off). This is MUCH better than the 1 soda plus cups of juice a day I used to drink.

The best conversations are had in your sleep

2015-03-11T21:52:00.000-05:00

Did you know that it is dark at 5 am in most places? True story. This will be important to remember.

The other day I was supposed to open at work, (backstory- I got a part time job at a daycare. Yes, the kids can come with me) which would mean me being their at 5, and optimizing my sleep, I woke up at 4:30. I was quickly running late, and running around the house (in the dark, as quietly as I can), looking for keys (since it was so early, Joe was keeping my car with the car seats till the kids woke up, SO I was looking for HIS truck keys).

ANYWAYS, after having no attempt finding the keys in any of the usual places, I was forced to wake Joe up to ask him (though I had to be quiet because Seamus was asleep in our bed too).

Me: *tapping joe* Joe?

Joe: *Shoots straight up and looks around* huh?

Me: Joe, where are your keys?

Joe: On the ring.

Me: *confused* Ring? What ring?

Joe: The ring (as if this is the most normal thing in the world)

Me: Where is the ring? *frustrated*

Joe : *waves his hand around the room* on the floor somewhere.

Me: *REALLY frustrated and muttering*: really? Why would you put your keys on the floor on some random ring?

So after throwing all our clean & unfolded clothes around the room in search of some stupid ring with his keys, Joe remains still on the bed just watching.

Joe: Don't worry about all that, I will pick it up (points for him)

Me: I am not worried about the clothes, I am worried about finding this stupid ring.

Joe: What ring?

At this point I stop. Stare at him, and give him my dirtiest evil eye.

Me: The ring you told me your keys were on.

Joe: Just take my keys.

Me: That is what I am looking for. *sighs* Where are your key?

Joe: In my truck.

Then goes back to sleep.

A few hours later, I ask Joe if he remembers what happens, and he said, "You were asking me a bunch of weird questions about a ring."

Yeah. That was all me.

Postpartum

2015-03-09T11:50:00.004-05:00

I think I had postpartum depression. Or maybe just the "baby blues", as I heard it was referenced to in Inspiring mama's podcast. Probably the baby blues, but still... I had something.

I didn't even think I had it, until after Seamus was born.
But I think I had it with Sariah. I think I had it WORSE with Sariah. I think having a second kid made it easier and better at the same time.

Now, let me say first off, that I think all women experience some sort of "baby blues", or depression, of some kind after a new baby is born.Vaginal, C-section, Adoption, all affects us no matter in which way we have tried to prepare for it. Of course you are (normally) excited. But I have heard it so many times, and felt it myself, that when you are actually leaving the hospital (birthing center, etc.) that a part of you is like, "Wait- your just going to let me take this baby home? And trust me enough to care for it for the rest of my life?" It's kind of a scary thought.

I believe in opposites. Everything needs and must have an opposite. So, with such an exciting moment occurring in your life- of course there will be fear, apprehension, anxiety, caution, dare I say it, depression, about what is coming.

You may say that's selfish, You may mention thing's like this article, and vouch that you never have or will get depressed or 'blue' about a new baby, because you defy all laws of nature and science and are a perfect creature.

It takes a LOT to love another being. Have you ever told someone that you would take care of them for 100% of their needs whenever they needed it, and expect nothing in return? You (typically) prepare for 9 (or so) months for this new person to join you. Waiting to meet them, imagining your life together. And you do forget about yourself. You take care of yourself, but you take care of them. And then they are born- and you love them. You love this min-you. But you have forgotten that this mini-you is still part of YOU, and YOU have forgotten to love YOU.

It's not selfish.
A birth mother is not selfish to place her child up for adoption. She is loving that child and loving another family.
You are not selfish for admitting you have a fault, that you are human, and you too need to be loved.

The thing about my 'baby blues', is that I forgot myself. I got so absorbed in stupid articles and others opinions on how to be the BEST mom, that I forgot that I am more than a mom alone. I was a wife first. A daughter, a sister, a friend, a daughter of GOD, I was ME.

And I don't want to just me a mom for my children. I want to be their friend, a good christian example, I want to show them how to be yourself even when the world wants you to be something else.

Be you. Embrace yourself. And that is why I am writing this. Because I am tired of feeling like I am not being me.

I am Mary.
I am a writer, a dreamer, a believer, an optimist.
I think I am funny.
I like to meet new people and make new friends and make everyone smile.
I want to serve people, I want to help others be happy and make life better.
I am a wife, a supporter to my best friend.
I am a mother of two, and I support admitting flaws.

I believe

2015-03-02T22:43:00.001-06:00

In letting my kids get messy.

Innocence before guilt.

That your happiness matters, and selfishness can be vague.

In getting information firsthand.

I believe that there is goodness all around us.

That God wants us to succeed.

That I have the ability to do great things.

That prayer can change people.

I believe that a person can choose to be happy.

That I was destined for warmer climates.

That caring about what others think is important and essential to forming good habits and good people.

I believe.

The Groundhog vs. The weatherman

2015-02-02T21:16:00.001-06:00

He was poised for his final attach, to claim this victory that would once again make him a legend. It didn't matter what people said, he needed to do this. He needed to do it for himself. For society, for others. For his wife back home, nursing their newly born daughter. For his dad who always believed in him. He was going to do it, and he was going to show the world that for once, he was right. He knew it. He knew this would be the year.

This would be the year, that the Groundhog was right.

I declare

2015-01-16T21:14:00.002-06:00

This is a declaration. To any and all who may read my blog to hold me accountable.

I always believed, knew, I was capable of doing great things. But it wasn't till recently that I accepted that I lack the motivation to do anything about it.

I am kind of over that.

So, back to my declaration. I declare that I will be better. That I will work harder. That I will achieve my dreams. Dreams of doing something great. Of writing and getting my thoughts and words out there. That I will make others happy. That I will allow myself to become who I am mean to be.

Now, just hold me to it.

Like blizzard conditions

2015-01-08T09:48:00.001-06:00

The weather in South Dakota is miserable this week. It has been in the negatives all week, with wind chills that would freeze the ears off my dogs (literally).

Our car is rather sensitive and won't start in the cold (about 11 degrees is the aviv spot), so that has either left me and the kids to tough the cold and walk, or stay home and go crazy (a mix of both occurred).

We have enjoyed having a house to go crazy in at least! It has helped the experience quite a lot!

In other news, Séamus enjoys climbing, and expects someone to always be there to catch him. So

Sariah got "stuck" when she tried to go down a slide head first (she got scared).

Sariah has become a true fish in water.

Séamus loves having the dogs arond.

So does Sariah, really.

My kids broke the only key I had to the primary cabinets, so that's awesome.

Oh, a few weeks ago I made cookies for all the primary kids (specifically the Sunday before Christmas). I had laid a last layer of finish on our floors, then made the cookies and went to bed. The next morning I bagged the cookies and went to church. I handed out the cookies, and there was one left! I took two bites and thought they tasted kinda odd, so I took it to Joe and asked what he thought.

"They taste like our floor".

Yep. The smell of the stain stained the smell of the cookies (or something). No body said anything unless I told them, and some people were even heard to say they tasted good, so ehh. No body has died yet.

According to my phone

2014-12-05T21:54:00.001-06:00

Besides the horrible photo quality my phone provides....

I have a wonderful life. With amazing people in it.

And we don't take nearly enough pictures with daddy.

Welcome to The Bee House

2014-12-05T21:52:00.004-06:00

There was a time, when sleep was the beset part of my day.
It was about 2 days after I got home from the hospital with Seamus, till he was about 6 weeks old. His nap time was the best, because then I could not feel guilty and spend time with Sariah. Her nap time was non-existent because our activity level had dropped but her energy level kept rising.
And come about 7 pm, I was just counting the minutes till I could officially call it bed time and drift off to sleep, waking up to feed a baby throughout the night, till the morning, when it would all start again. Each morning was hard, and I hated myself for wanting to just sleep and make my problems go away.

It's now a year (or so) later, and I still love sleep. It gives me time to create. To craft. To write. To think about the way and realize how lucky I am and what I want to do better tomorrow. It is no longer a time to retreat into my shell, but to grow. Because this life is wonderful.

And it is oh, so good.

Asking questions

2014-11-13T15:20:00.001-06:00

Its 4:30 a.m. and his alarm goes off.

It's too early. I hope he turns it off- I think he will. He is exhausted from his full day hunting yesterday.

I forget that I need him up to get Sariahs swim suite from the church across the street where I left it the day before.

6:00 a.m. and Sariah climbs into bed with us. I look at my phone. Uhh.

"It's 6 a.m.. Wake up."

"What?" He doesn't want to believe it.

"It's 6. Time to get up."

And the day starts. He hops in the shower, and I consider my best approach to getting out of bed. Sèamus wakes up, cries, and I consider the fast and easy approach to be my best option. We cuddle in bed, and I try to convince him sleep is awesome. He declines, so we get up and I wash the dishes. I make the kids breakfast. Cereal for Séamus, oatmeal for Sariah. They trade. I down a slim fast. Joe has a "work breakfast". Breakfast done.

Somehow 90 minutes flies by and Joe is already late, leaving at 7:35- just in time to hit "rush hour" in a town of 15,000 people.

Suddenly I remember Sariahs lack of swim suite. We volunteer in an hour and have a play date to swim right after.

We leave and head to the store. The California girl in me thinks I can find a toddler swimsuite in cold country in the middle of November. After a snow storm that left 3" of snow that threatens to never leave till next Spring. I thought I would find a swimsuite. At 8 a.m.

No luck. No hope.

Today I miss California.

People out here hate California. They think the stereotypes are all true and we have huge egos and bloated heads and all live in LA. They don't realize that this proud, born & raised California girl lived in the biggest city of my life in Nebraska. That I strive in the open, outside world and not shopping. It has its political problems, water problems, but I miss California.

We get to our volunteer site 15 min late. My temporary replacement smiles when I sigh "it's one of those days", and laughs at my attempt to find a swim suit in November.

I made someone laugh today. My day is better.

We play and volunteer. The time goes by and I find a loaner swim suite to use for Sariah. She loves the water, swimming around as if she were Ariel the little mermaid. Séamys stayed at the edge of the water, lightly splashing- playing just enough to make it worth my hassle to get him in swim trunks.

The real kicker? Both kids pooped. I now know swim diapers work.

I also know that when you are in a clean pool and it starts looking murky, start finding answers. And whnr you friend comments on floaties in the water- demand answers.

We left the pool and continued on with our day- the sun blinding us. I hadn't realized how much I missed it, or how long it had been since I had seen it.

The end.

This is how we roll...

2014-11-04T22:26:00.001-06:00

I always imagined I would be a sophisticated mom.

My kids would always wear outfits that matched (individually, not like as a group- i.e. Sariah a shirt would match her pants).

My kids faces would always be clean.

My car would always be neat.

Basically a bunch of fantasies from my

Now life.

And that's ok. Because I am working on it. And for me, it's not what matters the most.

So my kid may sleep in a Walmart shopping cart. But at least he sleeps and I can get things done.

That's the point.

On NOT Going Insane

2014-11-02T21:57:00.001-06:00

We have moved a lot. But that is pretty standard for young married/college students.

In Lincoln someone pointed out a fact about moving to me: YOU WILL BE DEPRESSED.

At the time I had never thought about it, but I instantly agreed. I never would have admitted it, but at some point- the isolation of your move hits you and you miss-- the past. Something, someone, someplace.

And sometimes it is hard to get over. It comes in waves. Sometimes you have to struggle and fight, work it like play dough till it finally feels right. But it will. Feel right, that is. And this friend also said, you sort of have to "befriend" everyone till you get a comfort zone- then can start truly growing your friend circle.

Lincoln totally felt like that. It was just hard. I loved Lincoln, and hated it. It's a weird relationship to explain.

As the months went by and a I was molding myself to fit in, I read an article about 10 ways to not go insane as a stay at home mom. I don't remember all of them, and I certainly didn't keep them all. But it helped a lot. It helped me keep my sanity. And these things helped me each time we moved become more stable and happier (this last move was the best).

So here are the things that stuck out to me/helped me the best:

1. Go outside for at least 1 hr every day. Even in winter, in the snow and cold. Just get outside.

2. Call someone every day. Talk to someone outside your household world. Someone who cares, an adult. I gotta admit I stretched this one a lot- for a while calling the Dr counted. And ever now there will be days where I only do "errand " phone calls, but it's enough.

3. Plan. I am horrible at doing this- and even when I do do it I rarely stick to it. But it helps me calm down at least and feel like there is a purpose to the day.

4. Do something every day. Either plan a craft, bake, or have an outing- but do something out of the ordinary.

And that's my advice :)

Life for Mary

2014-10-20T23:26:00.000-05:00

This past week I made 4 NEW recipe's to take to events, and they all ROCKED. And got multiple compliments and requests for the recipe. I like when that happens. I know It doesn't quite sound like a good plan to be trying out new recipes on groups of people, but it somehow feels like a better idea experimenting with grousp of 30+ people than 4.

Recipe #1: Christmas Breakfast Sausage Casserole =

(via)

I took this to a MOPS meeting where groups take turns providing brunch. I made some changes based on the review (first off I doubled it, increased the eggs and decreased the milk, added mushrooms. And probably increased the cheese). It turned out really well. I have always been hesitant/skeptical of breakfast casseroles. I am not a fan of eggs, but I LOVED this. And it freezes well. Recipe

#2: Pumpkin Dump Cake

(via)

Probably my favorite dessert growing up was a dump cake, so to me- it is a completely normal thing. It is a desert/cake where you dump (literally) all the ingredients in a pan and bake! Normally fruit/pie filling, pour a cake mix on top, blast it with butter, and THEN bake. Delicious I promise. I took it to a RS activity (a church women's activity) and this one was very much a hit! I didn't put a 'topping' on it, but everyone said that it was perfect as is.

#3:Slow Cooker Sweet and Tangy Meatballs

(via)

I have been wanting to make these for a while, and finally got the chance! We had a friend get baptized this past Saturday and we had some 'snacks' afterwards, and I made these and was astonished at how quickly they disappeared! They were good. I would recommend doubling the batch. And I have it on good authority they taste great with ice cream.

#4: The BEST Slow Cooker Baked Beans

(via)

The third Sunday of every month our church has a potluck, so it's nice to have a chance to make something new every month. I haven't ever made baked beans before, so I am not an expert to say if these really ARE the best, but they were good. They were a bit time consuming, I gotta admit. Although, instead of onions I used shallots. Someone in our last living area (western Nebraska), gave us a bag- and oh my! They are strong, Just in chopping 2 cups worth I had to take at least 3 breaks.
But anyways, mmmm. They will be worth making again.

And there you have it. That is basically what I did this last week =]

When you find out your kid really does have four paws....

2014-10-16T23:14:00.003-05:00

Today I was a superhero. I rescued a cat. Or, my daughter did. Is it still rescuing a cat if the cat wasn't in immediate danger, but the owner wanted it back? Of course. So, we saved this cat. And met the owner, who happens to own a dog grooming place. We met her dogs. Nice fluffy things. She said the same of my kids (more or less). I told her that they funny this is, kids really are like having a puppy. And then, magic happened. Black, dark magic. My kids did turn into puppies. They chomped and licked, ran away and chased squirrels. That is why I didn't notice it right away. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Then as we were headed home I decided to stop by the Capitol Building to use the bathroom. As we walked in, trying to be quiet on the marble floor, a cat appeared! They ran for it, pulling myself, the stroller and the hair I had braided from strangers together to make a leash from all with them. They made it up and down four flights of stairs before they caught the thing. Before I could stand up they were both atop of it, ready to attack. I screamed at them to stop, it was sure to not be a pretty sight. But then the strangest thing. I woke up. And found out, it was all a dream. ____________________________________________________________________________________ I am trying to do something different. To be myself. To express myself. To work on my goals and my skills in writing. To be creative. Sorry, this is an experiment and I have no clue what to promise each day will bring- but I am working on it.

Just Me

2014-10-16T23:02:00.003-05:00

Today I thrived. Thrived on frustration, and pizza, and watching re-runs of How I Met Your Mother. I thrived on the YMCA's time letting my children learn and play with others while I read and chatted with mothers. I thrived on another week and a half spent only using 1/4 tank of gas. I thrived on speed, on commands and demands, and I thrived. At least, I tried. I vacummed and excercised. I checked the mail and signed papers. I read some books and ~~made~~ heated up lunch. But I wilted inside. A chair carelessly placed on my foot and butter swimming in pudding. Pooppy panties and crying babies, made my thriving decline. I yelled her name too many times. And laughed at it not enough. I thrived on that moment when he came home, and my world was all OKAY. I thrived at the high pitched screaming, during our bath time routine. Tonight was hair washing night. It wasn't a sight to be scene. While I may shirk at my motherly duties, be sure I will always make up in one way or another. Tonight I thrived on being im-perfect. But in the end, I am still e.

Hi.

2014-10-15T22:30:00.003-05:00

Today Is Wednesday. We have been moved in for about 6 week- it has gone by way too fast, and I am finally getting around to say 'hello' once again! And here is a "what-you-missed-in-the-past-6-weeks" update: -Sariah likes to run around naked. At the YMCA. After she steals other peoples stuff. Little convict in training. -Seamus likes to step on leaves. Can you imagine 3 inch feet crunching leaves? Just imagine. It. Is. Adorable. -Sariah decided to 'help' the people are Papa Murphey's make their pizza. They were are Highschool girls and had no idea what to do and just stared at her and looked around awkwardly. - Pierre is kind of awesome. You just gotta see it to believe it. -They actually have a pretty good donut place here. But apparently the are shutting down. Live over. I guess Pierre just dropped a notch. -I think I can make up words. What in the world did my BA in English get me if not to be able to make up words?? The end.

Moving...

2014-09-04T23:19:00.001-05:00

House is packed. Fridge is clean. We are all ready to move. Except for the fact that all the furniture is still lying around...buy hey, that is for another day. Sorry I said I was going to be more diligent about posting and be a regular blogger and all and then just stop. Moving kind of does weird things to your day. Like makes you stay of till midnight on consecutive bases packing and organizing all your stuff together. In other news I lost one follower. Apparently there were really upset at my non-comitence. ces la vie?