The Bells' Tales

Summer O' Fun

2014-06-05T12:52:00.008-05:00

We are not taking a summer vacation. To my knowledge, we have never taken a summer vacation. Short trips, yes. Summer vacation, no. Up until last year, Mike managed a Chuck E Cheese and taking a week or two off during their busiest time of the year was a no-no. We usually vacation in the fall, around Olivia's birthday in October or occasionally in the spring. Mike's with a grown up restaurant now (hallelujah!), but still, no summer vacation plans.

The kids, mostly the oldest kid, are bummed. Everyone they know is going somewhere fun and exciting. Well, not everyone, but you know how kids are. Even their great grandparents just spent a week at the beach. So, in an effort to make some super fun memories that don't involve leaving Daddy behind while we go on vacation, I have started the Bell Summer o' Fun 2014. Every day, until August 3 (the day before kindergarten starts-SNIFFLE!!!), we are doing something FUN! Some days, it will be free, some days it won't. Some days it will be at home, some days it won't. But, it will be fun!

So far, this has been our fun!

Monday, June 2-Pinson Mounds with friends, playdate at our house.

Tuesday, June 3-Savannah Park and Splash Pad, fishing at Pickwick, and Frozen in the park.

Wednesday, June 4- SICK DAY! This wasn't planned. However, we made the best of it with tons of Play-doh, building an airplane, making chocolate chip cookies, a dinner and movie picnic in the living room, and Phillip learned to play Go-Fish. Olivia and I played Black Jack for a while, which we love.

We have lots of other things planned: swimming, Pink Palace, Memphis Zoo, Smyrna Blue Angels Show, $2 Movies in Corinth, a Nashville visit to see our family there, and some other fun things. Not every day will be a big deal, some days we may play in the sprinker, stay up late looking at the stars on the trampoline, or just have ice cream for breakfast. Basically, I just want them to REMEMBER this summer (and quit whining about no change in venue). If you want to follow our adventures, find me on Instagram, I am journaling it all there. My user name livismom0317.

Have a great summer!

The story of Pepper, part 2

2014-05-17T12:33:00.001-05:00

So, we left off with Pepper bolting out of our house after Wilma (my brother's dog) harrassed her on Christmas Day. We assumed that she made her way back home, as we did not see her again for a couple of days. Then, late one night, the kids and I were coming in from an evening at my parents' house when there she was, waiting for us in the driveway. She was whining and crying and limping. I was sure she had been hit by a car. I hustled the kids inside, because injured dogs make me nervous. I have seen the sweetest animals bite and nip when hurt and I didn't want to risk the kids getting hurt. I gave Olivia the task of putting them to bed (having a teenager rocks, especially when your husband works 5 nights a week) and went outside to check on the dog. She was laying on the front porch and her right front paw had a gaping wound in it. I called Mike and he said he would be home shortly, to just wait until he got home.

Once Mike got home, we brought her inside and he and Olivia cleaned the wound (I'm squemish unless I birthed you). He told me that it was a gunshot wound and she needed a vet. I messaged my friend Monette on fb and asked if she knew of a vet open on Sunday (this was around midnight Saturday night). She checked around and I sent her pics of the wound. I was also worried about the cost, as a big vet bill for a strange dog was not in the budget. She said that the rescue group she volunteered with would be glad to help and a vet could see Pepper on Monday. They had all looked at the pictures of the wound and decided she would be okay until then. Monette did have some antibiotics and pain pills on hand and I got those to tide us over. Pepper slept almost all day Sunday and seemed happy when she was awake. The wound was dressed and she seemed no worse for the wear, but I knew she had to be hurting.

Monday Mike took her to the vet and left her. They cleaned the wound and set her leg. The rescue group said they would take care of the vet bills if we were willing to keep her. We discussed it and decided that since Jesus AND Santa had sent her, we probably should keep her :) She was not microchipped and no one answered the lost dog ads. So, she was sent home with a cast, a tons of meds, and we waited for her to heal.

She had to wear the "cone of shame" for SO LONG! She was so good about it.

Sadly, this was not to be. They tried cleaning and resetting the wound for three months! The bullet had gone through her leg and shattered the bone and it would not mend. Finally, in late March, the decision was made to amputate the leg. I cried like a baby. She and I have become very close and it just broke my heart for this healthy, sweet, loving dog to have to go through this because some dumb redneck shot her.

I had to keep a sweater over her wound and a sock on her foot to keep her from scratching. Bless her!

Well, she took the amputation like a trooper and hasn't looked back. She can run, jump, play and snuggle like a four legged dog. She and the cat are best friends, she jumps in the lap of anyone who dares sit down in the house and she is just such a joy to have as a pet. She thinks that she's the baby of the house, so anytime one of us is holding the actual baby of the house (who is almost 3), she has to be held too.

It's a dog's life (the story of Pepper)

2014-03-11T23:46:00.000-05:00

Those who know me will tell you that I love animals. Quite frankly, I love them more than most people. Specifically, I love dogs. When we were growing up, my brother and I had a feist/cocker spaniel mix named Ginger. She was the best dog, we loved her so much! She would sleep at the foot of Keith's bed or my bed. If she couldn't decide, she would sleep in the hallway between our rooms. She was the perfect pet. We got her when I was in 6th grade (I was 12) and she lived a very long life, dying on Olivia's 2nd birthday (I was 24).

When Mike and I were dating, he got transferred to Memphis. After a year or so there, he got transferred back to Jackson and decided it was time to stop "apartment dwelling" and move into a house. He had marriage plans on the horizon, but I didn't know that :) He decided he needed a dog to make his house a home and adopted a Rat Terrier named Wiley from a friend. She was between 1 and 2 years old. This was early 1999. A few months later, I was on the way to class and drove past a litter of tiny puppies playing in a very busy road. It was right down the street from the Humane Society and someone had dumped them off. I quickly pulled over, piled all five of them in my lap and drove to the Humane Society. As I was handing them over, the generously told me I could keep one of them if I wanted. I chose a tiny little black and white puppy and immediately headed to Mike's house.

He was off work that day and was laying on his couch watching TV. I came in through the garage door into the kitchen. He sat up, saw what I was carrying and started saying "No, no, no". As I got closer, he softened. By the time I made it to the couch, he was smitten. We took the new pup, aptly named Lucky, to the vet (she only weighed 2 lbs) and got her healthy. Mike's terrier, Wiley, immediately took over as the puppy's mother and taught her everything she knew. They became the best of friends and remained so until Wiley died in September 2012. She was 14 and had lived a long, healthy life. Her best friend Lucky was HEARTBROKEN by her mate's death. When Mike went to bury her at the back of our property, Lucky stood in our big kitchen window and sobbed. I have never heard an animal cry like she did. She refused to eat for a couple of days, but rebounded and enjoyed a full life for several more months, until she passed away March 2013. She was 13. She was my first baby. We knew she was dying, she had stopped eating and drinking several days before and the vet said it was just a matter of time. She did not seem to be in pain, but spent all her days trying to get to her mate's grave. She would make it back there and lay down and sleep. It was pitiful. The night she died, she cried unless I held her. I sat up until 2 a.m., rocking her like a baby (I should mention she weighed around 60 lbs!). I was dreading the moment she died, as I could not fathom my sweet girl dying in my arms. Around 2 a.m., our human baby woke up screaming, which he never does. I put the dog down and went to check on the baby. I was gone less than a minute. When I came back, she was gone.

After she died, we decided to wait a while before we got a new dog. Mike has always wanted an English Springer Spaniel, so we decided to wait until we found one and until our hearts healed a little. We did get Olivia a kitten for her birthday, so the house was not empty of pets, just dogs.

A few days before Christmas, Phillip announced he wanted a dog for Christmas. Not a puppy, a dog. We gently shot him down, telling him Santa had already loaded his sleigh, etc. He would not let up, he said he was asking Santa AND Jesus for a dog and was sure he would get one. No amount of cajoling or excuse making could sway him. After a brief, insane conversation about getting a puppy of Craigslist or something, we decided to just let Phillip learn a hard life lesson, you don't always get what you pray for. Ha! God was ready to give us a life lesson, don't mess with a 5 year old boy with BIG faith and a direct line to Jesus and Santa.

A beautiful black dog showed up in our yard a couple of days before Christmas. We live in the country, in a subdivision, so dogs being "dumped" out is not unusual. It's also not unusual for people to let their dogs roam free. So, we figured she was one of those two things. She was shy, keeping her distance. I noticed right away that she was super skinny. I went inside, piled a bowl full of leftovers (no dog food in the house anymore) and set it outside. I slipped back in and peeked out to see her inhaling the food. We kept this dance up until Christmas Eve. She wouldn't really let me touch her, but was coming closer and closer. I took her picture and posted it on several lost pet sites in case she was someone's pet.

Christmas Day we were playing outside with the boys' new four wheelers when she wandered up and let us pet her! It was a Christmas miracle! She even came inside with us and laid down under the tree. She was having a grand ol' Christmas until my brother's dog (chihuahua) attacked her (I don't like little dogs, they are too yippy!). After that, she was nervous and bolted back outside the first time the door was open. We did not see her again for a couple of days. We were bummed but hoped she had found her way to her owners.

So...how did she become ours and lose a leg in the process? Stay tuned!

The psychology of being fat

2014-01-25T14:40:00.002-06:00

Two years ago, I got fed up with being fat. I was SO overweight, so unhealthy, and worn out. I had three children, two were babies, and I did not have the energy to do anything with them. So, after much prompting and prodding by my brother and sister-in-love, I decided to give Advocare a try. It worked. I lost 70 lbs in about 7 months. I felt great and uncomfortable. I can't explain it exactly, but there is comfort in being fat. Obviously not physical comfort, but a psychological comfort. It's your shield. Don't feel pretty? Oh, well, you're fat, what does it matter. Don't have cute clothes? Oh, well, nothing looks good on you anyway. Want another cookie? No worries, what could it hurt? Losing weight is tough, keeping it off is even worse. Not physically. Physically losing it and briefly keeping it off was a breeze. Advocare made it easy. But, if you're a comfort eater and you hit a bump in the road, it's just downhill.

Boy did I hit some bumps. There is not point in rehashing the past, but to say the last two years have been the hardest of my life would be an understatement. I had some pretty scary health issues (that I amazingly didn't talk about on facebook or real life, I can keep a secret!). Some of the medicine I took made me hungry and bloated, which was a former fat girl's ticket to EAT! I couldn't help it, it was the MEDICINE! Yeah right, I could help it. But I didn't.

So, I gained 30 lbs. In the last year. Which stinks, but is totally fixable. I start back on my Advocare vitamins tomorrow and I know that 30 lbs will be gone by May. What won't be gone is my brain. My inner critic, my inner fat girl who feels safer being fat. If I'm thin, then I need to be well dressed, pulled together, and pretty. People take notice of you when you're losing weight, so you feel like you have to be "on" all the time. So, what if I'm not? Will I feel like a failure? Maybe. But I know that I have to take control of my body and my health now, or I will regret it in 10 years. I already wasted part of my 20s and most of my 30s being overweight. There are so many things I could have done differently if I had been healthier. So, I am taking a new approach this time.

I have always felt like God didn't care what I weighed. He loves me anyway. And He does. But he also wants me to be the BEST me I can be. So, as I embark (AGAIN) on a weighloss journey, I will be embarking on a spiritual journey too. With God's help, I can do this. I can be the BEST me.

For comparison purposes, here is a picture of me at my heaviest and my lightest (in the last two years). Underneath that is a picture of me today (well, really tomorrow, as I am scheduling this to post tomorrow when I can put a picture of me in decent clothes instead of pjs). I have a long way to go, but at least I'm 40 lbs closer than I was 2 years ago!

The picture on the left was my lowest (and biggest). The picture on the right I was a size 12/14.

This is 30 lbs later. Still able to fit in some Misses sizes, but getting very uncomfortable and depressed.

This post will appear sometime Saturday and I plan to begin the program Monday. So, let the games begin!

Opposites Attract

2014-01-18T15:45:00.002-06:00

No mother (or father) worth their salt has a favorite child. Though you cannot fathom how you will love a 2nd, 3rd, 4th child as much as your first, you do. As soon as they lay that little angel in your arms, your heart doubles in size and you love them just as much as their older sibling. Amazingly, it happens every time you have a baby. It is one of the most amazing things about parenting to me. I remember being sick with worry when I was pregnant with Phillip that I wouldn't love him as much as Olivia. Olivia was our world. An only child for eight years, the sun rose and set on her whims (terrible, I know). We scheduled our lives around her and worshipped the ground her little pink clad feet walked on. I could not fathom loving the next baby as much, even though he was VERY wanted and highly anticipated. Then, they brought him over to me, fresh from his previous home, and he cracked his beautiful blue eyes open for the first time and starred right into mine. I was in love! I loved him every bit as much as his sister in that instant. The same thing happened with Matt. They brought his tiny, yelling, peeing self over and I just knew he was my heart, my baby, THE baby of the family. I loved him fiercely and wholly, even though I just "met" him. So, to have a favorite would be impossible. They are all delightful little combinations of me and the man I love most in the entire universe, perfect little beings with all of our good traits and none of our bad (yeah, right!). But, they are equally and completely loved and adored.

However, any parent that tells you they get along with all their kids the same is lying. About the time they start talking and walking (or sooner), their little personalities start shining through. In our house, Olivia and Matt are essentially the same person. Olivia has been fiercely independent, outspoken, loud, temperamental, slightly aloof, and a million other things since birth. Matt is a slightly MORE version of that. He's everything she was, but a little moreso. Both of them could give you this "drop dead" look long before they could talk. They don't meet a stranger and don't have a shy bone in their bodies. Both could get up in front of a huge crowd and not miss a beat. They were both delightful babies, troublesome toddlers (though Matt wins the prize for angriest) and great kids. Basically, they are physical and emotional replicas of me. I can also give that drop dead look. I am aloof until I get to know you, loud, temperamental, moody at times, determined, and outspoken. I forget to say please and thank you more often than not, despite being raised better. I love fiercely, but have a hard time telling you. Basically, you love me or hate me, there's not a lot of middle ground. I have been this way since birth. Mike loves me anyway :)

Phillip is Mike. He was a perfect, cherubic baby who rarely cried, played quietly, cooed and giggled. He was the easiest toddler, learning manners quickly, always wanting a cuddle. He's a little emotional, quick to cry, quick to apologize. He tends to obsess over things like Mike does, instead of shrugging them off like I do. He is extremely stubborn like his daddy too. He wants his family to be happy. He loves the ladies, is a wonderful friend and brother, and is just a really mellow kid. He is his father made over. Looks like him, acts like him. The world adores Phillip. He is charming and sweet, always looking for a way to help his fellow man.

Guess which kid I get along with the best? Yep, Phillip. We mesh. He is yin to my yang, just like his daddy. My high powered personality suits his laid back personality perfectly. We rarely fuss. He adores me, I am his favorite human on earth. Guess which kid(s) Mike gets along with the best? Yep, Olivia and Matt. They adore him. Olivia will unashamedly tell anyone she loves her daddy the most. His laid back, sweet temperament, his innate ability to figure out why they are upset instead of just butting heads with them wins every time. When Matt just can't take me another second, he starts bellowing for Daddy. For the first year of Olivia and Matt's lives, they MUCH preferred Daddy's arms to Mommy's. Phillip would be happy if I could carry him in my arms until college. It's the craziest thing. Don't get me wrong, we are a very happy family and everyone loves everyone, but it tickles me to see how the children that are MOST like a parent gravitate to the other parent. What I saw in Mike that I liked all those years ago (and vice versa) are what the children most like us look for in their preferred parent.

This post really has no point, just something I have noticed more and more as the boys are growing into their personalities. Is the same true in your family? Which kid do you get along with the best or am I the only one with that situation :)

My girl

2013-10-12T23:26:00.001-05:00

Our sweet girl, our firstborn, is turning 13 in four days. As a mom, I could go on and on about how time flies and she was just born, but honestly, I feel like we have had her forever. Olivia was born one day shy of 6 months after our wedding (it happens, stop judging :)). We had dated forever and we certainly didn't feel like we were slighted by not having any more "newlywed" time. We were ready to start a family and we were delighted to have her. But, I have been a mother my entire adult life. Up until Mike and I married I lived with my parents and never had any major adult responsibilities. So, she's been my sidekick through adulthood.

I have never written her birth story in completion, so better 13 years late than never.

Let's start by addressing the fact Olivia was almost THREE weeks late! My original due date was September 21. Then, it was pushed to September 28. Then, they weren't sure (we found out with subsequent pregnancies that our babies are tiny, weird shaped little fetuses and then grow super fast at the end). So, by October 12, my last OB appointment before she was born I was overdue, gigantic and dilated to 2. Needless to say, I was beyond done being pregnant. I was ALL belly. My stomach was enormous and Mike and I would sit and watch her body parts poke out as she shifted and squirmed. A foot here, an elbow there. So, on Thursday, it was agreed that I would try to go into labor naturally over the weekend with an induction scheduled for Monday. Friday night, my parents, brother, Mike and I went to a hot air balloon show at the very hilly, rocky air field in hopes to jostle something loose. Then, we ate Mexican food. Saturday, Mike and I sat around in our extremely clean, empty house and waited. Late Saturday night, Mike went to bed and I stayed up to balance the checkbook. After totaling all of the Home Depot receipts from the previous month (Mike was nesting big time!), I went to tell him he had to lay off, he had spent $500, and promptly went into labor. The contractions were 15-20 minutes apart and not bad at all, so I laid down and fitfully slept when I could. About 6 a.m., I got up for good as they were getting stronger, but not any closer together. At this point, I had been in inactive labor for about 8 hours. I sent Mike to pick up some breakfast (we couldn't mess up the pristine kitchen, the baby might want to see it) and I got in the shower to wash my hair and shave my legs :) That is when "active labor" kicked in. The contractions starting coming hard and fast, every 5 minutes. After 30 minutes of that, we decided it was time to head to the hospital (less than 10 minutes away). On the way there, my contractions jumped to 2.5 minutes apart. I WAS TERRIFIED. I thought I was going to give birth in the car! We made it and went to the desk where we were preregistered. The lady asked me if we were having twins. I growled at her. Mike promised to kill her later but begged me to get in the wheelchair and get upstairs.

WHAT A BELLY!

Once up in Labor & Delivery, we waited to be admitted. They hooked me up to the contraction monitoring machine (not it's official name) and told me I could have an epidural when I got to 6. I was at 3. I had a goal! I should mention that I was still having strong contractions every 2.5 minutes, so we all thought this would move quickly. It was about 11 a.m. Mike and I had called our parents on the way to the hospital. Mike's parents headed our way from Houston, TX and my parents got to the hospital immediately. We all expected a baby SOON. We were mistaken.

I progressed so slow. Everyone and their grandfather came to see me. I was miserable, excited, nervous, the whole nine yards. I kept looking to my left where the baby area was, where they would be taking the baby after she was born to check her, etc. I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that we would not be having the baby in that room. I didn't know why, but I could not picture her in that area. My first mother's intuition.

This is my epidural face

Finally, around 5 p.m., I had progressed enough for an epidural. The sweet, sweet man who administered it is still one of my favorite people. The pain vanished, I rested for the first time in many hours and waited for our baby girl. I was around 7 cm at this point. We watched the contractions arch and fall on the monitor and I marveled at the lack of pain. For about two hours. Then, I felt a little twinge of pain with a contraction. Then a bigger one, then a full on contraction. The nurse was summoned and the sweet, sweet medicine man came back and fiddled with the epidural line. It worked again...for about five minutes. Then, it never worked again. I felt every thing. I kept telling them that it wasn't working at all. They kept telling me it was normal to feel "pressure" and it was working. I know pressure and I know a freight train ripping through your midsection. I had the latter. But, no one would listen to me, so my only option was to have a baby.

Around 11:30 p.m., I was finally ready to push. I was terrified. I could feel everything. I was a BIG believer in epidurals. I didn't want natural child birth. This kid was three weeks late, she was bound to be big. But, I had no other option and was desperate to see her, so I started pushing. And I pushed. For two and a half hours. With no progress. NONE. They could see the top of her head but that was all. Finally, when my doc checked in again to see if we were ready for him to catch, he determined she was stuck. I had determined this two hours earlier, but again, no one was listening to me. I kept saying "SHE IS STUCK, I CAN FEEL THAT SHE IS STUCK", but apparently women in labor say silly things.

So, the doc told us to sit tight and they would prep an OR for our C-section. By this time, Mike's parents had made it in (FROM HOUSTON, THEY DROVE) and my parents and family were sick with worry. The grandmas hit the chapel to pray and Mike suited up for the surgery. I was so exhausted, so worried, and in so much pain. I could feel that baby stuck in my pelvis and was so worried that she was hurting. They came to get me for the surgery and wheeled me in. They went to lift me off the table and were AMAZED that I could swing my legs over and move myself. WELL DUH! I told them the epidural didn't work. The anesthesiologist went to work trying to get me numb again when Olivia's heart rate started dropping (mine did too, but I didn't know that until much later). The hustled Mike out of the room and started cutting. They put me to sleep soon thereAFTER. Fortunately, I don't remember much of that. I remember the mask coming for my face and frantically praying for my baby's life before I went out. My last thought was that I hoped that she lived and if I died that she would know I loved her. It was dramatic. Olivia was out in seconds and blue and limp. The doc handed her over his shoulder to the NICU nurses who had been summoned (STAT) and they went to work. My poor, sweet husband was watching all of this from the door they forgot to shut in their haste. He saw her lifeless little body, he heard the doctor say he knew he could save one of us, and he stood there paralyzed silently begging God to save his family. Olivia was quickly revived and began bellowing, never a sweeter sound. My heartrate improved dramatically once the stuck human was removed from my exhausted body and they put me back together. (Sidenote: sloppiest C-section ever! It was totally worth it, but if my doctor had not been so stubborn, it would not have been so dramatic. The scar tissue and other things caused problems for years).

Sweet Mike was so worried (look, the giant belly is gone!)

I was still asleep once Olivia was deemed healthy and alive, so they started bundling her up and preparing her to meet her daddy. Once he realized this, he scooted over to the waiting room he was supposed to be in and waited. They brought her to him and he cried, prayed, thanked God, and marveled. Then he panicked. He had never even held a baby before and they left him all alone. His wife, the baby "expert" was unconscious. His mom was in the chapel and he was alone. Finally, they told him I was waking up and he and Olivia headed to recovery (I made him promise if anything happened he wouldn't leave her side). I slowly came to, spying the largest, prettiest baby I had ever seen. They had triple wrapped her to keep her temp up and she looked like she weighed 20 lbs. My first words were "How big is she". She was 8 lbs 13.5 oz and 21.5" long. I was so relieved she was fine and beautiful to boot! Then, I was in pain. MAJOR pain. The epidural never worked, so I was awake, still having post labor contractions, through many layers of stitches, without a drop of painkiller in my system. After I convinced the evil post op nurse of this, they finally gave me some Morphin and I could enjoy my girl.

Our first picture, I was so out of it!

She was a beauty. She had a headful of black hair, long eyelashes, and dark blue eyes that were already brown by the end of the week. I was in labor for three calendar days, but it was so worth it! She was also very overdue! She laid flat in her bassinet, stretching as straight as she could. She could hold her head up and look around the room. Whenever I spoke, she would lift her head and follow my voice. She wasn't overly fond of being held or fed by me, I think she sensed my nerves :) She bonded with her daddy immediately, but it took a little longer with me. I was so out of it for the first week, everyone supervised my every move with her. We finally clicked and have been a dynamic duo ever since.

Two days old. Her going home outfit didn't fit, she was so big.

My doctor came to check on us and apologized for doubting my estimate of my due date. He conceded that she was indeed overdue and was relieved it all worked out. I was relieved too and did not use him for my subsequent children...

Two peas in a pod, she has adored him from day one.

We took her home two days later and settled into life as the "three family". She grew like a weed and charmed all who met her. I then spent the next 13 years questioning every decision I made and worrying that I was ruining her. And you know what, I am doing okay at this. Mike is an excellent parent but I always worry about me. But, we have a great kid. She loves Jesus, her family, her friends, and her world. She is beautiful inside and out. Her sense of humor kills me, her talents amaze me, and though I try not to be that parent that is a "best friend", it's hard not to want to be her friend. She's a great kid!

So, if you are still reading, I hope you enjoyed that long, dramatic story. It took me three years to work up the nerve to have another baby and another 5 years to actually accomplish it :)

Fall Fun!

2013-09-20T16:26:00.000-05:00

I saw a funny e-card on Pinterest the other day. Basically, it said "If you say pumpkin spice latte three times, a white girl in yoga pants will show up and tell you everything she loves about fall". Well, I guess I am a big ol' cliche, because I love fall!

I never really cared one way or the other about fall until Olivia was born. Her birthday is in October, so every year after her birth, fall was a time of celebration. I love breaking out the fall wreath, scarecrows, ceramic pumpkins, etc.

So, today Mike and I took the kids to a cornfield to take some pictures. I know if most parents had heard that 30 years ago they would have been baffled. Pictures are done at Olan Mills, right? Well, first of all, I think all of the photography studios in our town have closed down. Second, I just love fun, outdoorsy types of photos. I have a Canon Rebel that has more buttons than I understand that takes great pictures, so we try to do our own as much as possible.

Without further ado, here they are. Cute if I say so myself...

I love this one. Matt looks up to Phil so much and he is such a good big brother!

My beautiful, grown up girl!

This is the view of our house through the trees across the street. I just liked it for some reason.

This guys is FIVE!

Love this girl!

I adore how this turned out!

He was up in a tree and worried about it!

So I don't forget the "Terrific Twos"

2013-09-08T19:27:00.000-05:00

Anyone who knows me in real life knows that I have one of "those" kids. My baby, my #3, Matt, is a pistol. He is also a delightfully sweet child who worships his daddy, his pawpaw, and all thing Power Rangers. He is funny and smart and will no doubt be something amazing in life. But, he is also a lot of work!

It's not all his fault, he came upon the heels of one of those "perfect" babies. His older brother was a quiet, still, smiling, dimpled baby who didn't cry, didn't get into much, and was just happy to sit and play quietly. You know, the kind of baby that tricks people into having children, because they think all babies are like that. He's a firecracker of a little boy now, but he was an incredibly easy baby. His sister was also a very easy baby, a little fussier and opinionated that Phil, but still a delightfully easy baby.

Then, we had Matt. Matt moved constantly before and after he was born. He was a wonderfully happy little baby, in fact we dubbed him "the happiest baby in the world". He smiled early and often. But, when he was upset, he was scream and turn red and give you just a taste of what was up. Then, he turned one. And he got mad, because he couldn't tell you what he wanted. He was not an early talker. He is now officially a "late talker". Words come slowly and with much effort. He is also not able to do everything his brother does. This makes him MAD. He is also the most independent, stubborn, "I DO IT" kid you have ever met. He has NO FEAR. He will slide down a 30' slide alone, he will walk into dark rooms and "talk" to anyone.

Last week, we took Matt (and the other kids) on a little trip. We stayed two nights in a hotel. It was horrible. Matt was so upset that he wasn't at home. He would not sleep, would not eat, and was a giant cranky pants the whole time. I became convinced he was sick because of how awful he was. He normally sleeps 10-12 hours a night plus a 2-3 hour nap (I know, awesome!). On the trip, he slept 5-6 hours a night (fitfully) and took no nap.

We got home, he saw the house, yelled "YAY", ate food, and asked to go night night. He slept 12 hours and woke up a new man. So, add that to the list, Matt hates travel. Disney is off the table for a while...

Today is Grandparent's Day (has that always been a holiday, seems new?) and Mom & Dad came to church with us to see Phillip sing in the Grandparent's Day program. Well, as the kids walked past our pew on the way to the platform, Matt got in line and joined them. I panicked a little. What should I do? I decided to wait it out and see how he did. He walked all over the stage while the speaker was talking. He walked up and down the steps of the of the platform. He smiled at all of the people in the audience. Then the music started. He sauntered over to the microphone his brother was at and proceeded to try and wrestle it down to his level. Phillip tried to stop him. A scuffle ensued, followed by Matt's trademark "MAAAA MAAAAA" right in the microphone. I then went up on the stage, took him off the stage, and he SCREAMED all the way out of the sanctuary. He laid face down in the floor of the nursery and wailed for 10 minutes.

So, one day, he will be a handsome, intelligent, verbal child and I want to remember the terrific twos! They tell me I will look back and them and laugh. We will see ;)

Jenna's Commenting Challenge

2013-07-25T15:03:00.000-05:00

So, I have been planning on blogging all week to participate in Jenna's commenting challenge. And then...I had a whiny, feverish, clingy monkey baby in my lap constantly. So, I didn't blog. I started to twice, but he shut my computer off both times. He's no dummy, that baby Bell.

So, here I am, four days late. I love to read blogs, but apparently I don't love to write blog posts. I am just going to synopcize the different topics she has had the last few days. I am a rule bender that way.

1. A little about me: I am 35 (funny sidenote, I had to ask my husband if I was 35 or 36. Obviously, it's a big deal to me) and happily married. My husband, Mike, and I have been married almost 14 years and have three lovely kids. Olivia is 12, Phillip is 4, and Matt is 2. We struggled with secondary infertility for several years before Phil and obviously beat it :) We live in the suburbs, love Jesus, have boring, normal lives and love every minute of it. We are going to be homeschooling for the first time ever this year (an 8th grader, a Prek-4, and a rowdy toddler). You can see pictures of my people all over the blog, I am awfully fond of them :)

2. TV shows. Technically, we don't have "TV". We cancelled satellite about a year and a half ago. Our middle child was addicted to TV and commercials and would ask constantly for everything he saw. Our oldest child kept "stumbling" upon adult themed shows. So, we pulled the plug. We do have a Netflix, Hulu, and Amazon Prime subscription, so we stay on top of what's on, we are just able to monitor and allocate it better. My favorite shows are: Modern Family, Once Upon a Time, The Office (I know, it's over, but I can't let go), Sherlock (the Benedict Cumberbach version), and Downton Abbey. I also love Duck Dynasty, even though I am about as far removed from a "redneck, country girl" as one can get and still live in the South. I don't even sound Southern.

3. Pinterest. I love Pinterest. If you read my last blog entry, it's a "Pinterest Praise Report" (all my fundie friends just laughed). I put together our entire remodel from Pinterest. I also did Matt's 1st and 2nd birthday party planning from there. Here are some pictures. I LOVE to throw a good party!

These are from Matt's "Mod Monkey" 1st birthday party. I love balloon banners! So much color & fun without helium.

These are from Matt's 2nd birthday party. He is OBSESSED with Spiderman, so it was only fitting. The other kids had parties too, but I don't think Chuck E Cheese is photo worthy :)

As far as other social media, I am a Facebook addict. So many of my good friends live far away and I love keeping up with them that way. I use Twitter and Instagram some, and love interacting with people on there too! I am a people person :)

So, that's it. I haven't even begun to think of Christmas yet, so I have nothing for day 4. Thanks for stopping by!

The Kitchen is (sorta) done

2013-07-19T15:58:00.002-05:00

As I mentioned last year, we had to gut our kitchen. A small leak turned into a big leak and the next thing you know, everything was gone! Thank God for homeowners insurance, because that tiny leak cost over $10,000!

So, I immediately started with BIG PLANS! In my mind, walls were being knocked down, things were changing big time! Mike immediately reeled me back in. He gently reminded me that we had to have a kitchen as soon as possible, as we have three small humans to feed. Oh yeah, there's that. So, we replaced the floor, the cabinets were replaced on one side and just refaced on the other, the counter tops were replaced, a back splash was added, and the wallpaper was painted (yeah, that actually works) instead of replaced, because the one I wanted was discontinued and I was sick of wallpaper. The old appliances were replaced and I am really happy with the results. We built built-ins in the breakfast room and I love them! LOVE THEM! I don't have a good picture of them because every time I go to take pictures it's too sunny and they don't turn out. But...I do have pictures of the kitchen side. Keep in mind, this is just a normal 3 BR/2 BA starter type home. We don't live fancy. We love it though and have been insanely happy about our nice, normal sized payment in this awesome recession.

Here is the kitchen before:

There are not words for my hatred of those cabinets and counter top. No words.

And the kitchen NOW!

Love, love, love, I am in love! The cabinets are painted Marscapone and glazed with a tobacco glaze. The backsplash is painted Harp Strings and the gray/blue paint is Solitude. They are all Benjamin Moore paint colors because my daddy owns a Benjamin Moore paint store AND because it's the best paint EVER. Stuck right to the wallpaper and cleans beautifully!

The counter tops are from IKEA and the appliances are all Samsung. You should note that despite intense research, I am unhappy with the appliances. The handle has already broken on the microwave (warranty would not cover it) and the letters wiped off the front of the dishwasher. The fridge scratches like crazy. The function fine, but for the cost, I expected better.

So, there you go. Another room taken from "Builder Blah" to "DIY Delightful"!

A day in my life

2013-03-02T13:06:00.000-06:00

Kelly's Korner, my favorite blog, is hosting a "Show Us Your Life" blog party where you show a typical day. I thought I would participate, so that when the babies are all grown and gone, I'll remember what I did. Every day is a little different, so I pick Monday.

Just another (not so) manic Monday!

6:45 a.m.-Alarm goes off. Mike has been gone for an hour, but thankfully is a very quiet morning person. I get up, stagger into Olivia's room and make sure she is getting ready. Since she's "grown up", she usually gets up about 6 to curl her hair, change clothes 7 times, etc.

6:50 a.m.-I go to the kitchen, make a SPARK, and take my vitamins. In about 5 minutes, I start feeling human and usually go back to Olivia's room and chat with her while she eats her breakfast (in her room, yes, I'm a horrible mother).

7:10 a.m.-I stand outside and watch for the bus. On the mornings Mike is home (Tuesday-Friday), he usually takes her to school, but Monday is a bus day. I will not wake up two sleeping babies just so she can avoid public transit. When I see it coming in the horizon, I stick my head inside and tell her and she heads out to meet it.

Occasionally, she will actually come outside and wait on the bus with me :)

7:15 a.m.-If I'm lucky (and I usually am), both boys are still asleep, so I fix myself a Meal Replacement shake and get a start on chores. I unload the dishwasher, put breakfast dishes in the dishwasher, wipe down counters, and make my bed. I start a load of laundry and sweep the floors, if needed. This is normally the time I check fb, Instagram, and Pinterest.

8-8:30 a.m.-The boys begin waking up. I change Matt's diaper, remind Phillip to go potty and sit them down for breakfast. They usually have yogurt and fruit, though some morning we mix it up. They happily eat, I wash everyone up and put fresh clothes on them (usually fresh pjs, we stay in pjs when we're home, it makes us happy).

9 a.m.-Get Matt interested in a toy (usually the train) and I help Phillip do his chores. He gets super excited when he gets a smiley face on his chore chart, so it goes pretty quickly. It's time to swap out the laundry, and he helps with that.

9:30 a.m.-Sit down with the boys and put on a movie or episode of Spiderman on Netflix. They both tend to be pretty low key in the mornings, so we get our TV time in then. They never "just" watch TV, usually we're playing toys, reading a book, or just being silly too :)

10:30 a.m.-Start thinking about lunch. Fold laundry that was done this morning and put in another load (it never ends!). I also straighten up bedrooms during this time. The boys play or color.

11:00 a.m.-Lunch time for Matt. He will eat something and then go down for a 3 hour nap (GLORY!). I take my before lunch vitamins and make sure I'm on target with my water consumption so far.

Even if Phillip won't eat with him, his faithful companion Lucky will!

12:00 p.m.-Lunch time for me (and sometimes Phil). He's not a big eater, so usually a bite or two is all we get down him. Sometimes, after lunch he'll take a nap, sometimes he won't. I insist that he lays down for a little while just to rest and regroup.

1:00 p.m.-Phil is up and we work on a project together. It might be preschool stuff or a craft project, but I make sure we do something one on one, as he is the child that gets lost in the shuffle sometimes.

2-2:30 p.m.-The laundry continues to cycle through, and Matt wakes up. A fresh diaper for him and an afternoon snack for both boys. They both come to life in the afternoon, so there is much sword fighting, imaginative play, and superhero talk. I let them play on their own, unless a referee is needed. Having two in two years pays off during playtime. They amuse each other greatly!

Waiting for "sister" to get home.

3:00 p.m.-Work on housework, drink another SPARK, do dinner prep, and put together a snack for Livi, if she's coming home. Most days lately, she has play practice. If she comes home, she rides the bus and gets in about 3:45. We talk about her day, she snacks, and then starts on homework (which she rarely has) and her chores.

4:00 p.m.-Check with Mike. Usually he's headed home by now, but if he has a new hire or is super busy, he's still at work. I schedule dinner accordingly. Olivia is usually around, chatting or showing me something funny on Youtube.

5:00 p.m.-Netflix back on for the boys. They're usually still playing, but I'm about to get serious about making dinner and if I don't have a distraction, they'll both be under foot. I try to involve them when I can, but Matt is still too little to do much.

Occasionally, "sister" will entertain them while I cook.

6:00 p.m.-Everyone is home and we have a nice dinner. By nice, I mean Matt is screaming to eat before it's on the table, Olivia is fussing about having to set the table, Mike is trying to coax Phillip into eating something and I'm just happy to be sitting down.

6:30 p.m.-Olivia cleans up after dinner (child abuse!) and Mike gives the boys their baths. I go sit in my chair in our room and stare at the wall, relishing the silence. I wish I was kidding, but it is what I do. For fifteen minutes. Then, I help Mike get the boys in their PJs and we do something together as a family.

7:30 p.m.-Brush boys' teeth, read a book, and start winding them down for bed.

8 p.m.-Boys are in bed, and we spend some time with just Olivia. Usually we watch a show on Netflix that we all like or just talk.

9 p.m.-Olivia gets ready for bed and Mike and I work on any chores that are not done yet.

Sometimes, Olivia gets a nighttime visitor. She's sweet to let him stay (usually).

10 p.m.-Bedtime! We used to stay up to 12 p.m. or later, but we just can't do it anymore. Three kids + middle age has made us anti-night owls :)

So, that's a super exciting Monday in my world. It's mundane, but honestly, it's one of my favorite days of the week. I get a lot accomplished and spend the days happily in my nest.

Putting the new kitchen to work

2013-01-08T13:03:00.000-06:00

Well, one of the silver linings to last years' suckiness was our kitchen remodel. The silver lining part is that I got a new kitchen and our home owner's insurance paid for the bulk of it. The suckiness was that we found out our deductible went up to $1000 without warning, our payments have now gone up because of the claim, and we didn't have a kitchen for two months. So, we ate out. Most every meal. It was expensive and unhealthy. Mike and I stayed on our healthy eating plan as much as possible, but it was still unhealthy.

We love to eat out, don't get me wrong. When it's the two of us. We do not love eating out with a moody adolescent, an active toddler, and a VERY busy baby. So, we're done with that. Our New Year's Resolution is to cut out fast food completely and cut other dining out to very special occassions.

So, we have to cook. Daily. We don't mind. We love to cook. But, we often find that we didn't get the right ingredients in the store, don't have this or that, make a quick run to the very overpriced grocery in our little town and spend $50 on randomness and blow our grocery budget. I am trying so hard to be more organized, so I came up with what I think is a good idea. It's probably been done before, but I haven't seen it anywhere, so maybe it's original :) I doubt it, though.

It's meal cards. Basically, I made a list of all the meals we enjoy. Then, I printed one side of an index card (those will go through most printers, who knew? My husband did, that's who) with the name of the meal. Then, on the back side, I printed all of the ingredients needed, in list form. Then, when I'm meal planning, I just choose the cards I want, flip them over, and can make my list right then and there. Some of the cards are just a main dish, like roasted chicken. Those are meals that we eat veggies with and I ALWAYS have a freezer full of veggies, so I didn't add those on there.

Pretty cool, huh? I'll let you know how it goes ;)

I'll upload a pic later, blogger won't let me right now. If you follow me on Instagram or Facebook, I put a picture there.

It was the WORST year EVER!

2013-01-05T16:48:00.002-06:00

Does anyone out there own up to watching Spongebob? If so, you are familiar with Spongebob's song "Best Day Ever". Well, sing "It was the worst year ever" to that tune and you have this post summed up.

There's not a lot good I can say about 2012. My kids were all healthy and happy. That's always my number one priority, so that was one good thing. Otherwise. EHH! It just wasn't a good year. Life was hard. Marriage was hard. Friendships were hard. Church was hard. Raising kids was hard. Poor decisions were made and the obvious consequences were reaped. Though we escaped 2012 relatively unscathed, I will never have much affection for that year. I entered 2013 with a new perspective on life. I also entered 2013 with a lot fewer friends and a lot more emotional baggage. Life is forever going to be different, because of some of the knowledge gleaned in 2012. I'm not trying to be vague or fish for sympathy. There is not one MAJOR thing that jumps off the calendar pages, just a lot of things, little things, medium things, big things, all conspiring together to make the year suck.

So, 2013, give me your best shot! 2011 was a dismal year (except for the birth of Matt), 2012 was a holy terror of a year (save a few bright spots), so 2013, please be better. I've just got this one life and so far, 2 out of the 34 years of it have not been worth the effort. I'm hoping, praying, wishing, and believing 2013 is the year it all gets better!

Maybe I'll blog, maybe I won't. If so, see you then!

P.S. According to blogger, this blog gets visited every single day. Random. So, if you're that visitor, leave me a comment :) You don't have to out yourself, just an anonymous "hi, I'm not a serial killer" would be nice!

My friend, Manda

2012-09-27T08:57:00.001-05:00

I am returning to the blogging world for a quick post about my friend, Manda, for Kelly's Korner's Show Us Your Singles.

(I have exactly one picture of Manda where she's not being silly. Oh, and I have some pictures of us from camp when we were 9 & 10. But, I don't want to die, so I won't post those)

Manda is amazing. She really is. I have know here since I was 3 and she was 2. Her sister and I are the same age and we've all grown up like sisters. She is truly one of my favorite people and will hopefully continue to love me even when she sees this :)

First of all, the physical stuff. Manda is beautiful. She comes from a family of beautiful people. At Christmas, there's just a sea of beautiful people wandering around admiring each other's beauty at their house. Oh, I kid, they're modest about it. But, she truly is beautiful. This is not one of those "oh, she has a beautiful soul and her face is ummm...okay". She has a beautiful soul and face. She is 33, but doesn't look it. Not that 33 is old, but she looks 25 at the oldest. I try not to hate her for this. It's a daily struggle.

Manda loves adventure. She loves traveling, trying new things, new restaurants, new cities, you name it, she's up for it. She's no shrinking violet. If she decides she wants to do somethings, she does it. And she does it well.

She is hilarious. There are not many people on this earth that can make me laugh as much as she does. When she comes into town for the occasional girls' night with me & her sister, I'm as excited as a 16 year old on her first date, because I know I will have a great time! She lives in Nashville, TN. Which also makes me jealous, because I want to live in Nashville. Manda is pretty much my hero. Or, I'm her stalker. Eh, potato, po-tah-toe.

Manda is an extremely hard worker. She has her MBA from Union University (one of the top 100 private universities in the country...I'm just saying that because I attended Union too and bragging about it makes me feel better about the asinine amount of money I spent on an education...but I digress). She is really smart. She can carry on a conversation about anything. My husband LOVES Manda, he loves talking to her about politics, current events, The Office, anything.

By day, she's a Senior Healthcare Analyst. I have no idea what that is, so you would have to ask her if you want more details. I know that she's important at work and goes to lots of meetings :)

Manda is very honest, giving, moral, has an extremely high work ethic, and is just an all around winner. She is one of the most honest people I know. If I want an honest opinion, I ask her. And she will tell me the truth, but in a nice way, so that I don't feel bad :)

She has lots of nieces and nephews that she enjoys spending time with and spoiling and they WORSHIP her. Kids love her, because she treats them like people. My daughter always loved hanging out with Manda when we lived in the same town, because Manda was one of the adults that treated her like an equal. She will be an amazing mother one day, but don't panic, she's not one of those "OMG, my biological clock is TICKING, let's discuss baby names over dessert" kind of first dates.

So, that's my beautiful, smart, funny, all around awesome friend Manda. If you're interested, leave a comment or email me.

Blogging Hiatus Over!

2012-06-18T11:42:00.000-05:00

Wow, it's been almost a year since my last blog entry! What a year it's been. We've adjusted to being a family of five, we've had some ups and downs, and the kids have grown like you wouldn't believe! Matt is going to be the runt of the litter, I believe. He turned 1 on May 27th and weighs about 20 lbs. He is still wearing some 6-9 month clothes and is just a little peanut. Phillip finally hit the 40 lbs mark and it wearing size 4T clothes. He is tall and thin. Olivia is now 5'5 (at 11!!) and weighs a whooping 105 lbs, so she's obviously tall and thin too :)

My whole world! Look how much Phil looks like his Daddy. And Matt looks just like Olivia!

Speaking of thin, Mike and I are well on our way to being thin, FINALLY! I started on a new healthy lifestyle in January of this year and I have now lost 65 lbs and 50" of FAT! I've gone from a size 24 to a size 14/16. I still have 50-60 more lbs to lose, but I feel great! Mike started in March and has lost 55 lbs (MEN!!) and more inches that I can keep up with. He is BUFF! He has been working out an hour every day and looks amazing! He's gone for a 42/44 waist pant to a 34/36 and from an XXL shirt to a M. It's amazing!

I need to update this picture, as I have lost more since then, but I like this one :)

We feel so much better. We have energy and stamina, it's like a whole new couple! Doing this together has been so helpful. Together, we've lost 120 lbs! Mike only wants to lost 25 more and I believe by the end of the summer he will be at his goal. I plan to be to my goal (size 6/8) by December. I'm trying to slow down my weight loss a little, as I don't want to have tons of lose skin to deal with.

One more....

We're losing weight with the help of Advocare and one of the products that I take is Catalyst, which helps pull in the skin. So far, it's worked like a charm. I've lost 9" off my waist and I really expected a saggy, loose belly (like it is after you have a baby), but everything is firming up nicely. Hopefully, it will continue that way.

The pictures on the right are from this past Christmas, we were miserably FAT, the one on the left is from date night in May. Mike has lost quite a bit since then.

We have some exciting plans this summer. Olivia leaves for Youth Camp on Sunday. She will be gone 4 days. It's the highlight of her year (as it was for me when I was young). I'm excited for her, she will make memories that last a lifetime. After camp, Olivia and I are headed to NYC with my Uncle Phillip (yes, my Phillip is his namesake). Uncle Phillip is taking us on a neice's trip and I am so excited!! We are going to have a blast. Then, after that, Mike and I are headed to Dallas for an Advocare Success School and a mini vacation. We love getting away together and I've never been to Dallas, so I'm super excited. The grandparents will be dividing and conquering the grandchildren :) Thank GOD for grandparents!!!

Then, come August 1, Olivia starts the 7th grade! Where in the world did the time go? I'm amazed! She grown into a very sweet, tenderhearted, smart young lady. And, in my opinion, she's a beauty! She has the whole package. We've tentatively decided to hold Phillip back and have him start kindergarten when he's 5 almost 6, instead of 4 almost 5, so it will be a couple of more years until I have another in school. By the time Matt starts school, I'll have an 11th grader, 2nd grader, and kindergartener. How funny is that?

Well, that's the update on the Bells. Life is so good, we are so blessed, and looking forward to the last half of 2012.

First, do no harm

2011-07-26T23:18:00.000-05:00

First, do no harm is part of the hypocratic oath that all physicians must take. Personally, I think it would be better as part of the mothers oath that all mothers should take. Isn't it amazing that you have to do more paperwork to adopt a pet than to birth a baby? But, that's a post for another day.

Anyway, my goal is to do no harm to my children. I want to help them thrive physically, mentally, and spiritually. Anytime that I feel like I have harmed my child in any way, I feel terrible. Usually, it's a psycological harm I worry about. Was I too harsh with them, did I raise my voice needlessly, was my frustration taken out on them? But, I try very, very hard to do all I can to keep their minds, bodies, and souls safe. So, imagine my horror this weekend, when the one piece of equipment that is supposed to keep him safe, hurt my little Phillip.

Just to back up a minute, I am a safety freak. You would think after three kids, I would have loosened up a little, but I haven't. We NEVER go without a carseat. There are no quick trips with a little one sitting in the seat. Olivia was almost 9 when she moved out of the booster seat into the regular seat. Phillip (and Matt) will be in a five point harness until it no longer fits. I research EVERYTHING and stay on top of recalls like a hawk. So, when I bought Phillip's carseat, I was sure it was the one for us. It had safety ratings higher than Britax, it was rated to 100 lbs, had the side impact wings, everything.

Anyway, Sunday, after church, I put the kids in the van to head home. Phillip was talking to Mom, so I started the car, cranked the air way up, put Matt's seat into it's base, Olivia got in her seat, and I buckled P in last. As I got in, he started screaming "Turn the hot off". I assumed he meant the car was hot and told him to chill, it would cool down in a minute. He then started screaming, "It's burning me, it's burning me". I told him he would be fine, and he stopped crying a couple of minutes later. He had missed his nap and I chalked the drama up to being over tired. He is not a crier at all.

We get home, eat some lunch, he and Mike wrestle a while and Olivia points out that he has red marks on his back. I don't look at them, I just tell her they are from him wrestling with Mike. Phillip is VERY fair and the least amount of pressure leaves a red mark on his skin for a few minutes.

Fast forward to bath time. Mike bathes Phillip and they spend about 30 minutes playing and learning (since March he's learned his ABCs, numbers to 30, and numbers to 10 in Spanish during bath time). Right after Mike puts him in the tub, he yells for me to come in there RIGHT NOW! I can hear Phillip crying. I run in there and he points to these three huge red blisters on Phil's back. I asked Phillip what they were (although I already sickeningly realized what they were), and he replied "It's where my carseat burned me, I told you that". My poor baby! The water was making them hurt again. The safety warning label (oh, the irony) on the backrest part of his carseat had gotten so hot that it blistered his skin. I noticed when I was putting him in that his shirt was getting too short and it hiked up in the back but thought NOTHING OF IT!

His poor little back

Oh, the guilt! I cannot believe this happened. We put burn cream on him and now, two days later, they are much better. He says they don't hurt anymore. I told our pediatrician about them and he couldn't believe it. I am always so careful about not letting the metal buckles touch his legs, but I never thought about the nylon tag.

So, I am emailing the company and asking for something to cover the tag or a refund on my carseat. I don't expect anything else, but I do think it's the least they could do. I am also going to ask that they recall that model. I mean, at least 1/4 of the year is hot, carseats are going to get hot. I try to keep them shaded and precool the car when I can, but it's not always practical.

The offending carseat, Safety 1st Alpha Omega Elite

So, I have learned two lessons. First of all, don't assume your safety equipment is safe. Second, listen to your kids. Don't assume you know what they are talking about. If I had asked Phillip a couple of questions, I could have figured out what he was talking about. Granted, he would have already been burnt, but I could have treated them sooner. The thought that he soldiered through the discomfort all afternoon long, because I told him it was fine, breaks my heart. Go check your carseats people!

Taking it all for granted

2011-07-23T23:33:00.000-05:00

Confession: I tend to take my picturesque, wonderful life for granted. Growing up, I always assumed I would grow up, go to college, meet my soul mate, get married, have a few kids, live in a pretty brick house and live happily ever after. So, it was no surprise to me when I did. After all, it was all in my master plan. Granted, the children did not come in the order/timeframe I expected, but they still came, beautiful, perfect little beings that I pictured in my mind when I was a little girl. Well, I didn't picture that one of them would be red headed, that was a surprise to everyone!

A Sunday morning photo attempt

I get up every morning to this sweet little life and think nothing of it. Because I take it for granted, I sometimes neglect it. Sometimes, I act a little spoiled, I don't take care of things like I should, I snap at little children for acting like (gasp) children, I waste things because I can always buy another (*disclaimer: nothing major is wasted, we are not wealthy people who are burning blocks of money for warmth or anything, just little stuff).

Another Sunday morning photo attempt

My husband, on the other hand, had given up on having any of this. When I met him, he was a successful restaurant manager, who changed jobs every couple of years, always for a little more money, a little better hours, something. He moved from apartment to apartment, city to city, not laying down roots and living a very lonely life. He was 32 and had given up on having a wife, kids, the dogs, the house, the whole thing. So, he is incredibly grateful for everything. He sees the magic in the every day mundane, he delights in the antics of our children, he truly cherishes everything we have and do.

I give up, I will photograph them all together when they are adults!

These days, I'm trying to see the world as he does. I try to look at my little people (especially the oldest) and try to imagine what it would have been like to think that I would never have them. I try to take better care of what we have, as if it is a treasured possession, not something I can easily replace.

I am trying to not take any of this charmed gift of a life that God has given me for granted. So far, it's making me a much happier person!

In regards to my lifelong aspiration to do everything perfectly...

2011-07-14T23:39:00.000-05:00

Motherhood is not something that came naturally to me. Motherhood was not something that was on my mind in that season of my life. I was planning a wedding (don't judge, it happens to the best of us), finishing up college, and mapping out the rest of my life. Then BOOM, I was a mama. A non eventful pregnancy turned into a very eventful birth, a hellish few days, and then Mike and I were at home, ALONE, with a baby. I was uber confident my entire pregnancy that I would be a great mother, a natural. I am one of those people that learns quickly, excels at most things I try, how hard could it be? Mike was worried the entire pregnancy that he would suck at it. He was 36, had never so much as held a baby, what would he do?

Guess which one of us was the natural? Mike, of course. It was like the book "Are You My Mother?" and Olivia picked him. I was a drugged up, worn out, miserable person for the first few weeks of her life. I had a severe reaction to one of my pain meds, but didn't know it was a reaction, so I was sick as a dog, thinking it was normal. It is literally a fog, I remember very little. I tried and tried to nurse Olivia, but she would have nothing of it. I cried and cried, she cried and cried, and Mike kept us alive and sane. I would stuggle with her for hours, trying to get her to nurse, trying to pump, tearfully talking on the phone to the La Leche people, to no avail. Then Mike would feed her a bottle, while I sat in the corner, watched TV, and cried. It was a happy time :) But, in my mind, the perfect mother nursed her baby, she put her to sleep in her own bed, she sang lullabys and never got tired. Dang it, I was going to be the perfect mother. At Olivia's one month appointment, our sweet doctor told me that she thought Olivia was lactose intolerant. We switched to soy formula and I made the hard decision to stop nursing altogether. I was devastated, but she wasn't really getting much from me and it was exhausting. She was up from 12 a.m-8 a.m every night/day. I was at my wit's end. So, I started giving her formula exclusively, I put her in the bed with us, and started singing songs I liked. You know what? She was a new baby! She was happy, healthy, and finally seemed to like her mama!

Fast forward eight years. I have a new baby, and quite frankly it feels like being a first time mama again. I have forgotten so much about babies and this baby is completely different. All he wants to do is sleep. He has jaundice and it takes a few days to get him better. My milk takes forever to come in, so we have to supplement with formula. Once my milk is in, I stop the formula and I'm determined to be "perfect" this time. Well, he nearly starves to death and sleeps all the time. I'm not making enough milk for the little guy! So...it's a repeat of last time, I nurse, Mike bottle feeds, I mope. Finally, I throw in the towel. I also don't make him sleep in his bed either, he sleeps with us and is happy as a clam. He's a healthy, happy baby.

Now, here comes Matt. I told Mike it would work this time or I would die trying. However, when I was pregnant, I found out that the stupid, awful, non life threatening disease I have that caused all the infertility issues, weight issues, etc also causes poor milk production. AHA! We have a reason! It's not my fault, well at least not in a way I can control. So, I go bonkers researching what supplements I can take, what I can do to make it work. In the hospital, I start taking herbal supplements. I spend hours with the lactation consultant. When we get home, we are already supplementing with formula. He dehydrated in the hospital and they insisted. Go figure :) But, that's okay, because he's nursing good and taking very little formula. Then, he starts to grow. I can't keep up. Every nursing book out there tell you that your body will keep up, but mine didn't get the memo. So, after having two kids, raised on formula, who are incredibly healthy, bright, and wonderful, what do you think I did? Well, you're wrong. I didn't give up, not yet.

For some reason, I am bound and determined to torment myself one more time. I am taking the most random and expensive combination of pills and supplements. I just took 18 pills before I sat down to write this. Is it working? Nope. But, I figure every little bit of breastmilk he gets is good, so I'll keep plugging along. We have a system now, Matt and I. I nurse him first, then I give him his bottle. He stares at me the whole time, so sweet and trusting. He doesn't care where the food comes from, he just feels loved and safe that it keeps coming.

The last few days, I have really questioned my motives. I don't buy into the whole formula conspiracy. I do believe that breastmilk is the perfect food for babies, but I don't think that formula is bad. My other kids thrived on it. But, I find myself watching the faces of others when I give Matt a bottle. Are they judging me, assuming I'm too selfish or ignorant to breastfeed? What do other mothers think of me? I feel the need to tell people the whole story, which is extreme oversharing, but I just want them to know that I'm trying to be "perfect", it just isn't working.

The funny thing is, I don't think twice when I see a mother giving a baby a bottle. Statistics show that a majority of mothers wind up switching to formula. I don't judge any mother as long as they are keeping their child safe. So why do I assume they are judging me? Why do I feel the need to be "perfect"?

It's not just breastfeeding. I spend every day making sure my kids look great, attempt to get them to act great. I make sure the house is near spotless every night before I go to bed, even if it means sacrificing sleep I dearly need. I volunteer in excess, I will go out of my way to make sure my family is happy, no matter what the need. The only thing I don't focus on making perfect is my appearance, which could use some work! All in all, I am an extremely happy person. I adore my husband, I love my children, my home, my job, my church, everything.

Anyway, there is no conclusion to this story, just a brain dump, I guess. Take care, dear readers, I'll be back with something lighter and fluffier soon!

Matthew's Birth Story

2011-07-09T16:58:00.000-05:00

Well, I will start at the very beginning. Mid October 2010, I started to suspect I was pregnant. I had all the usual symptoms I had with the others, plus I was horribly nauseated and sick to my stomach. I was without kids, as I had sent them to Mom & Dad's house for the evening. I ran to our local Fred's (we are without a Wal-mart in our tiny town) and bought a pregnancy test. I didn't tell Mike (who was at work) my suspicions, as I had thought I was pregnant a million times when we were struggling with infertility and I felt a bit like the little boy who cried wolf. Also, I had been on the pill (for medical reasons, not conception reasons) up until a couple of weeks before, so what are the odds that Infertile Myrtle was pregnant. Turns out, pretty good. I got the two pink lines. So, I called Mike and he was stunned. Excited, but stunned. I then called my parents, brother, best friends, etc. I also had dinner that night with one of my best friends, Leah, and got to tell her in person. Then, we went and told her mom (also one of my best friends, I like to have friends in both mine and Mike's age ranges). Mike got home that night and we just stared at each other and laughed. Another baby! It felt like we had just had a baby. Granted, it was two years before, but when your kids are eight years apart, two years feels like nothing.

So, I called my doctor and they didn't want to see me until 8 weeks. We had a vacation planned the next week, so off on a 12 hour road trip we go. For the first time in my life, I had morning sickness...ALL DAY LONG. It was a long vacation.
Fast forward 8 months. It has been a miserable pregnancy. I feel guilty saying that, as being pregnant was something I wanted for so long, but it is what it is. I fell on the vacation we took and possibly broke my tailbone. We couldn't get it x-rayed, due to the bun in the oven, but it was either fractured or a bone bruise. Either way, it took about 6 weeks to sit or sleep comfortably. After that, I had severe hip pain until the moment Matt was delivered. And the nausea, don't get me started. Also, from about 32 weeks on, I had contractions off and on. It was a blast.

Right before we left for the hospital

So, on the morning of May 27, we headed up to the hospital. We arrived at 6:30 a.m. They got me checked in, hooked up to monitors, and told me we were just waiting on an operating room. My precious doctor, who I love, came by and checked on my, the anesthesiologist came in and introduced herself. In her introduction, she told me what she would do if anything went wrong. This is key. If a medical professional ever introduces herself with the worst case scenario, you should worry. More on that in a minute. So, about 8:15, they wheeled me to the OR. They had Mike wait in the hall and told him he could come in when my spinal was done, 5 minutes or so, 30 minutes later, he was beyond worried. Meanwhile, inside, the anesthesiologist tried 6 times to get my spinal in. I am in misery. I have never had a spinal be so painful. Finally, one of the nurses pages another doctor and he gets it in on the first try. I didn't get his name, but I would like to get him in my will. I was beginning to panic, thinking they were going to have to put me to sleep. I was asleep when Olivia was born and it is one of the biggest regrets of my life. It's good that I was, as she was born non responsive, without a heatbeat, so I probably would have come up off the table, but still, I hate that I missed her first moments.

Me, waiting to meet my son

So, I'm finally numb, a worried Mike gets to come in and they get down to business. My belly was HUGE. Now, I'm a chubby girl. Years of PCOS, fertility treatments, and a fabulous cook as a husband have not been kind to me. But, my belly was ALL BABY (so we thought). My doctor and I had been guessing he was around 10 lbs. Dr. Roy cuts into me and right before says "I think we've got a big boy here!" Then he says "Whoa, there is way too much fluid here! Get me the vaccuum". I assume it was a Dyson, only the best for our OR (kidding). Turns out that's why my belly was so huge, I had way too much amniotic fluid and a little baby in there. Then he says, "We have a little boy here" and pulls out this little, red, screaming boy who is peeing everywhere! Mike follows him over to the scale, where they measure and weigh him. He's still average size, 18.5" long and 7 lbs 8 oz, but he is my smallest. His sister was 22" long and 8 lbs 13.5 oz and his brother was 21" and 7 lbs 13 oz (three weeks early). Mike brings him over to me and I talk and coo at him and notice he looks like he has been in a fight. Both eyelids are bright purple/red and his nose is flat. He was pressed so far down he face was smooshed into a bone. During all this, they are suctioning all the extra fluid out, tying my tubes, and closing me up. Mike and baby exit to the recovery room and I follow them soon after.

Our little peanut is here, and he is MAD about it!

Our family is complete!

In the recovery room, I nurse Matt then Mike brings Olivia and Phillip back. Olivia is in love, holding him and loving on him. Phillip is freaked out. He looks at Mike and say "I ready to go NOW". He won't hug me or look at the baby. Slowly, in twos, the rest of the family filters back and meets the little guy. I happily chat with the recovery room nurse. She comments that I'm in a great mood to have just had surgery. It's then that we realize she was my recovery room nurse with Phillip too. She made the same comment then. Both times I told her "If you have ever had an emergency C-section after 26 hours of labor, had a baby born that had to be revived, and woke up from surgery with absolutely NO PAINKILLER WHATSOEVER in your system, a routine C-section seems like a vacation.

In the recovery room, getting to know each other!

They wheel me to my room and I get settled in. Mike is a superhero during times like this, catering to my every whim. He helped me pull my hair back, get comfortable in the bed, and got me a Diet Coke :) Then, I waited for my little peanut to come in. When he got there, I fed him again and spent a long time cuddling him and marveling over ANOTHER baby! He looks a lot better now that he's cleaned up and promptly goes to sleep. I try to follow suit, but by now the PAIN has hit and hard.

My heart (and hands) are full!

The next few days are a blur. I had some small complications and spent an extra day in the hospital. I was offered one more day, but I just wanted to go home. This was a decision I would regret later in the week, as I was back at the doctors office, but it all worked out. Matthew lost about a pound and promptly dehydrated. My milk wasn't in yet, so we had to supplement with formula. My lactation nurse was a champ. She stayed hours after work one night, dripping formula in his mouth with a syringe while he nursed so that he wouldn't prefer the bottle. Seriously, she was wonderful. He rehydrated slowly, but was fine by the time we headed home. It took him three weeks to get back to his birth weight, and he's still tiny, but healthy.

Father and son

Happy to be headed home (we haven't told him he has to share a room yet)

Observing the new wildlife

This post uses the word "boobies"

2011-07-07T22:18:00.000-05:00

This is just too funny not to post. It does talk about breastfeeding and boobies, so if you are offended, well don't read my blog. Anyway, I am a big fan of breastfeeding. I am not militant about it and my other kids were formula fed at some point, but I do always start out breastfeeding. Obviously, Phillip does not remember this, nor has he witnessed anyone else doing it. However, at 2, Phillip has a healthy appreciation for the female form. He loves boobs. He has told total strangers in low cut tops, "Hey, I like your boobies". He has been admonished several time to not touch boobies. So....

When I was in the hospital with Matt, Mike went and got the kids and brought them up for us to spend family time together. During that time, I had to feed Matt. Phillip eyes got really BIG and he ran over and said "No, no, baby brother, we don't mess with boobies". He was shocked that no one was disciplining the baby. Well, fast forward a few days and I am feeding Matt in our room. He comes in, asks several questions about what the baby is doing, and stays to chat. Once I am done feeding Matt, I put him in his bed and started putting myself back together. Phillip quickly says "I need to hold you" which is Phillip speak for let me sit in your lap. So, he crawls in my lap and starts pulling up my shirt. I quickly pull it back down and tell him that it's just for babies. He then cocks his head to the side and says "C'mon, gimme a try". I laughed and laughed.

I later found him with his face stuffed in one of the horns of my breast pump, singing his heart out. I told him no, that it was Mommy's and he said, "No, it's a microphone".

Finally, we were on our way to take Olivia to camp, right outside of Nashville. I asked if Mike wanted me to get him a drink when I ran into a store on our way out of town. He said no, he had a Dr. Pepper. I then asked Olivia and my mother in law. Phillip piped up and said "Daddy has Dr. Pepper, Mommy has Diet Coke, Nanna has water, Sister has water, Phillip has juice and Baby Brother has boobies!!". He is killing me with all the boobie humor. What can I say, he's obviously a boob man!

Pictures of Matt

2011-07-06T23:16:00.000-05:00

Matthew is growing...so slow :) Usually, it's the other way around, but he had a slow start, I guess. I am enjoying having one in the newborn stage a little longer. At 5 weeks, he is 20.5" long and 8 1/2 lbs. That is smaller than his big sister was when she was born. He is such a little guy, but he can hold up his head and coo and smile, so it's the best of both worlds.

Matthew at 2 weeks

Matthew at 6 weeks

I padded the basket on the second one, since he cried at 2 weeks, so he looks a lot bigger in the second one. However, the basket is a mini wicker laundry basket that I used to keeps baby socks and things in, so that give you some idea of the tininess of this guy. Love it!

Here is a feeble attempt of a group shot, no one is looking at the camera, Big Red is pouting, and Matt is about to cry. Ah, our new normal!

This is Matt's first friend, Tigger. He loves this Tigger, he will stare at it for the longest time.

Well, I am working on a birth story post for Matt. I think after that, I am going to do one for each of the other kids. I forget more than I remember these days and I want to chronicle everything while it's still semi-fresh!

Welcome Jenna's Journey Readers

2011-07-04T17:04:00.000-05:00

Though I am a lousy blog updater, I am a faithful blog reader. However, I rarely comment. I guess I don't want to seem like a stalker or something. Which is weird, because I LOVE getting comments on my blog. Go figure. Anyway, I am participating in Jenna's Comment Challenge, where I comment on ten blogs a day. Fun, fun. If anyone stops by here from the challenge, WELCOME! Jenna's blog is one of my favorites, so I am happy to participate in this. Enjoy!

Our New Normal

2011-07-03T22:22:00.000-05:00

Well, a lot has happened since March. On May 27, Matthew Corwin Bell joined our family at 9:04 a.m. He was beautiful to me, but to the rest of the world he probably looked like a boxer who had been in one too many fights. He spent his last two months VERY low, with his face pressed up against a bone. His nose was FLAT and he has a large strawberry birthmark over his right eye and a small one over his left. Both will fade, the other two kids had them too. Let's just say, for the first few hours, he looked rough. But, since then, his nose has popped out, his complexion evened out, and he looks JUST LIKE his sister.

He weighed 7 lbs 8 oz and was 18.5" longs. He dropped down to 6 lbs 12 oz, but has rebounded back. At 5 weeks, he is 20.5" long and 8 lbs 8 oz. He's our runt. He's still smaller than Olivia was when she was born. We think the due date may have been off a little. They moved it around several times, due to the fact that I was on the pill when he was conceived (is that TMI? Oh, well, it's my blog so I guess it's okay :)). Phillip was 3 weeks early and was larger than Matt, so who knows? He is here and healthy, that's all that matters.

The kids absolutely love him. We have had no jealously whatsoever. I am exhausted, but it's not their fault. It has been a rough recovery for me. The spinal took 6 tries and 30 minutes to get right, so my back was very sore (and had a black, softball sized bruise) for several days. I had a tubal ligation, as well as a C-section, and boy, that's a rough combination. I had no idea. I don't know if I will ever stand up straight again. Also, having a 2 year old who doesn't understand completely that mommy can't carry him or pull at him is difficult. But, I'm finally on the mend, so life is getting easier.

I absolutely love having three kids. It's really not any harder, so far. Matt is an amazing baby, he only cries when he's hungry. Otherwise, we don't hear a peep out of him. I hope to blog a lot more now that the pregnancy from Hades is over. I promise you, I wouldn't have another baby (biologically) for a million dollars. These last nine months have been miseable. Constant nausea, vomiting, horrible hip joint problems, severe back pain, fatigue, and moodiness, all rolled into one grumpy package :) He was worth every minute of it, but I don't care to do it again!

I am on my mother in laws computer, so this is the only picture of the three Bell kids I have. This was in the hospital, I had to move heaven and earth to get them matching shirts, so I was bound and determined to get a picture.

I will be back blogging soon!

Happy Birthday...to me :)

2011-03-18T12:00:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was my 33rd birthday. I had a simply wonderful day. It started out with a visit to the OB, where I had to take a glucose test. Woo hoo, I know how to party! It was really fine, any day that I get to hear the baby's heartbeat is a good day in my book. As far as I know, everything was fine.

Then, I spent a few hours with the people who brought me into the world. I am so thankful for my wonderful parents. Without them, I have no idea how I would raise these (almost) three children of ours. Mike works as a restaurant manager, which means two nights a week he is not home until after the kids' bedtime. Obviously, if anything goes wrong and requires two adults, it happens on these two nights. This past week, Phillip fell and hit his head on the corner of my sofa table. He hit it so hard, there was a dent in his head (this is common with toddlers, I found out. Who knew?). Anyway, I felt it best to take him into the urgent care clinic and have it checked out, as it was almost bedtime and putting my groggy toddler to bed with a head injury seemed negligent. So, who do I call? Mom and Dad, of course! They were working up at our church, so I sped up there, left Olivia with Dad and Mom jumped in the car with me. She kept Phillip awake until we got there, then went back to the exam room with us, kept him occupied there, and escorted him to his x-ray (no preggos allowed in x-ray). Everything turned out fine, he just has a big goose egg, but it was scary for a minute when they were talking possible skull fractures. Thank God I had my Mommy with me! I should mention that I had been recovered from a 24 hour stomach flu for about 2 hours when this happened! Whew, what a night!

So, last night was WAY better. Mike took me to dinner at Texas de Brazil in Memphis. We had such a wonderful time together. He and I can talk and talk for hours. We discussed politics, child raising, home improvements, everything we could think of. We wound up staying up until after 1 a.m. talking and laughing (Mom & Dad kept the kids). He is such a wonderful husband, I am a big fan!

My birthday present from Mike was a flip camcorder. I love it already, I can just throw it in my purse and go. I will take a lot more videos now, which is good. I am terrible about taking videos.

Well, I just wanted to get an update on here. I have lots more news I could share, but I should get busy doing something for productive. Just 9 weeks (or less) until Baby Bell gets here. I can't wait!!

So inconsistent...that's me!

2011-02-16T10:32:00.001-06:00

So, about a month ago, I tried to do a blog post and it wouldn't work. My whole blog was jacked up and I could not get anything to work right. So, I just forgot about it...for a month :) But, I am back now.

We have had lots of exciting news. Baby #3 is a BOY! Phillip will have a brother to grow up with, play with, and most importantly, pass clothes down to (well, it's important to me)! Olivia is actually thrilled at staying the only princess in the family, and Mike and I are thrilled to raise another son! We have tentatively decided on the name Andrew Corwin, but that is subject to change...

We also found out last month that my brother and sister in law are expecting a baby! Their baby will be about three months younger than Andrew. Andrew is six months younger than my uncle and aunt's baby girl, Kaelyn. He is three months younger than my cousin and his wife's baby, Grant. Therefore, there will be many playmates in his future. This is such an exciting and new thing for me. I was the oldest (by five years) of all my cousins and poor Olivia didn't have a playmate until Phillip was born. Phillip has a cousin, Gracyn, that is a few months older than him and now will have a slew of kids a couple of years younger than him to boss around! Yay for family!!

Only twelve more weeks (approximately) until baby Andrew makes his appearance. I have A LOT to do!! I am anxious to see him, but honestly, I am fine with the next twelves weeks CREEPING by, as I don't want to feel rushed. We will see...

I have another blog post swirling around in my head, so I should be posting again soon! See you then!!