Three

Noah Joseph turns three today.  Hard to believe that we've gone from this...

...to this.

 Dave and I were discussing the various strengths of our two oldest the other night, which is always a good thing to do when you're both feeling overwhelmed and stressed by parenting; reminds you of why you did this in the first place.  In fact, in a moment of frustration, I asked Dave, "Why did we have kids again?"  His response, "Because they're blessings, Liz...REMEMBER?!?!"  


What do we love about Noah?

 He's passionate.  He's energetic.  He is a diligent worker.  He's the best cleaner-upper.  He loves to help.  He's intuitive.  He is always the one to notice if you aren't feeling well and ask, "You ok, Mom?"  This morning I told him my belly was a little sick and he came over and kissed it then went to the fridge and found an ice pack for me.  He's generous.  He'll take you out if you try to bully him.  

He blew out the candles WHILE we were singing.  

 He loves his brothers.  He adores his daddy.  He can tell you exactly what he did to get that time-out (when his older brother can't...or won't).  He's really good at puzzles.  He's really good at anything athletic.  

Happy Birthday, Little Boy!

My Kids Are Con Artists

They are cute con artists, but con artists, none the less. 

The people they seem to instinctively know they can con is basically anyone other than Dave or me.  Babysitters, generally. 

They conned Dave's Aunt Judy into thinking they were allowed to turn on music for bedtime.

They conned their former babysitters into thinking they were allowed to leave the door open AND turn on music for bedtime.

They conned Auntie Em into allowing them to have a second cup of juice during snacktime.

They con me (or try to anyway) into believing that when their brother hit them, they were innocent victims who were simply minding their own business at the time of the "random" attack.  This is rarely the case.

Last night, they conned yet another babysitter into allowing them to switch bunk beds for the night, which left the three year old maniac sleeper in the top bunk. 

Apparently, they are very convincing which is somewhat disturbing.  What does that say about my parenting skills that they actively try to manipulate strangers?  Not to worry...We are working on learning the definition of "truth" and "lie" at this point.  I'm finding it's not so simple to communicate to a three year old or four year old what a lie actually is. So far all my brain can come up with is, "When you tell me a story that was pretend...something that didn't really happen...that's a lie.  Lies are bad.  We need to tell the real story."  Do they understand real? Pretend?  I don't know but that's all I've got.  Anyone else have a good way to explain truth and deception to small children?

And then there is this little bugger:

I think he could pretty much schmooze me into anything with that face.

Watch out, girls. 

You don't have a chance.

"I Feel Like We're Just Parents"

That's what I said to Dave the other night as we were on our way to bed after finally putting the last boy to bed. 

I feel like we are just parents.  Like all we do is make breakfast...send kids to take a break...mediate battles over who gets to play with the pink train and who gets to play with the red train...wipe bottoms...dole out medicine...make lunch...put kids down for naps...nurse...change diapers...rock fussy babies...bundle up restless boys to expend excessive energy...attempt to convince a certain three year old that yes, he is loud and no, he doesn't need to be...reading books before bedtime...tucking kids into bed...re-tucking kids into bed...getting up in the middle of the night to soothe a screaming 3 year old...climbing into bed with said three year old to keep him from screaming all night long. 

Let me tell you though.  We are ROCKIN' the doing-this-as-a-team thing.  We're taking turns, dividing responsibility and calming each other down when we hit our done point. 

But I miss being girlfriend and boyfriend.

I'm afraid we're succombing to marital laziness.

I know we're just in a very intense period of parenting right now, but I have a nagging feeling that that is an excuse.  I have heard myself thinking, When all the kids are sleeping and I'm not nursing as much, we'll have time to be together.  We'll just have to wait until then.  But ohhhh.....oh dear.  Sure, I don't think there's anything wrong with allowing that for a season, but how easy is it to allow that season to drag on and on and on and to continually find reasons to put off romance UNTIL.  There's always SOMETHING, isn't there? 

I wrote about being intentional in friendship.  This goes for every relationship, really, including marriage.  Paul Tripp writes in his book What Did You Expect? that "your marriage may be good, but it is never safe." 

So.  We're pushing through the tiredness tonight.  Tonight, we're ignoring the desire to simply throw on sweat pants and pour a glass of wine while we watch whatever mind-numbing television show we can find until it's time for Isaac's last feeding and we crawl under the covers.  Tonight we're going on a date.  We're leaving all three kids with a non-relative babysitter for the first time tonight.  Tonight, I'm wearing heels, makeup, jewelry and perfume.  Tonight we're not going to talk about how Isaac is becoming a lazy latcher and making my nipples sore or how I snuck into Noah's room to check his bottom for pinworms with a flashlight for three nights in a row (uh, yeah..that's another post) or how the watercolors that I let the boys do today soaked into the granite countertops (NOT supposed to happen, RIGHT???).  As the Chief Domestic Officer of this home, I'm going off the clock, at least mentally.  Tonight, I'm girlfriend again. 

Tonight I'm with my friend.  I'm with my buddy.  My love.

Reconsidering Preschool

Oh goodness...my pride is screaming at me to not write this post.  Which is a very good reason to write it.  I hate admitting that I might have been wrong and that I might have been way too fired up on the "wrong" side of a parenting decision.

So what's the big deal?

I'm considering putting my kids (Ethan, really) in preschool. 

So....what's the big deal?  Everyone does preschool, right?

Right.  Except me.  I have spent the past two years being firmly in the anti-preschool camp, not because I think preschool is a bad thing, because it isn't.  I think kids have a fun time, they are interacting with their peers, learning to respect the authority of adults other than Mom and Dad, and there's some educational activities thrown in there too.  So, not bad.  I just don't think it's an educational necessity.  For most of us who are educated adults, involved in the training of our children, it's an educational luxury.  The vast majority of children are not going to be left behind educationally if they do not go to preschool. 

Dave and I decided a few years ago that we felt like homeschooling was the educational option we wanted to pursue.  How long will we homeschool?  I have no idea.  One year at a time.  So when we made that decision, it seemed inconsistent to delegate a preschool education to other adults.  Barbara Curtis, a Montessori trained teacher who eventually decided to homeschool, convinced me that a formal preschool education was unnecessary: "Throughout centuries and over a wide range of cultures, parents have been their children's primary teachers in the early years and sometimes longer.  This leads me to believe that since every child has the potential to learn, every parent has the potential to teach.  If this sounds like a radical idea today, it's only because we've established a very compartmentalized model of education that includes the idea that only professionals truly know how to teach...Why send your child off to fall in love with his teacher when he can learn at home and continue focusing his love and building his trust in you?" (from Mommy, Teach Me!)

I invested a great deal of energy in taking my preschool-is-unnecessary stance and felt very defensive when friends would imply (in my mind) that "homeschooling" preschool was an inferior decision.  I felt a little left out when most of my kids' friends were in preschool and therefore unavailable for playdates on certain days of the week.  In an attempt to make myself feel like I was on equal footing with the pro-preschool parents, I decided I was going to implement an official preschool "curriculum" and asked other homeschooling parents what kinds of activities they used to teach this age.  The response? They laughed.  The homeschooling mothers I talked to did about two things: 1) read lots of books and 2) put on a Leapfrog DVD.  Oh.  Really?  That's it? Ok.  I guess I can calm down now.  So that's what I did.  I read Dr. Seuess, put on PBS, made available toys that encouraged motor skills (puzzles, etc) and occasionally broke out the artsy-crafty activities.  We joined a homeschool group and went on field trips for socialization. 

For about 2 years that has been sufficient.  Ethan knows ABCs, numbers, colors, shapes, letter sounds and how to write a bunch of letters.  Noah knows shapes, some ABCs, and how to count to 10. 

And then I started noticing how incredibly social Ethan is.  He has Dave's extroverted personality; he absolutely glows with happiness when friends come over and absolutely deflates when they leave.  He asks me nearly every morning if we are going to someone's house or if someone is coming over. 

And THEN I had Isaac.  Two months into this three kid thing and I am still fighting feeling completely overwhelmed. 

So I'm reconsidering...with the full support of my husband who could care less that we might jump full into an option we had never considered before.  He is not struggling with the pride issue like I am.  I want a break a few mornings a week.  I want a chance to be alone with my other kids.  I want Ethan to have sufficient "friend time".  I cannot even imagine what I would be able to accomplish during 6 hours a week with one less child.  I don't think Ethan needs the educational aspect as much as the social aspect. 

How dumb is it to maybe decide not to put a child in preschool because you are worried that your friends might think, "Gosh, she was so fired up against preschool and now she's doing it!"  Who cares?  I still have not learned that you should never say never in parenting.  There might always come a time to change your mind.  I feel sort of dumb for being that fired up but I guess I shouldn't really.  That decision was right for us at the time and a different decision might be right for us now. We are all allowed to reconsider our viewpoints and lifestyles. 

I have no idea what we will end up deciding.  I'm just putting it out there that we're thinking about changing our minds.  And I'll take input from other experienced mothers. 

What are your thoughts either for or against preschool when you are most likely going to homeschool in elementary school?

A Little Cleanly Deception

This afternoon, I had a brilliant idea, an idea which I am entirely too tempted to actually put into practice.  Thus, by blogging about it, I am officially busting myself so that I cannot actually deceive anyone. 

Right after lunch, I sent the boys out to play in the garage.  Although it isn't freezing cold out today, it has been raining all day and I just have not overcome that abhorrence of letting the boys play in the mud and then bathing them and changing them multiple times.  I do that all summer; winter is my break from daily baths.  Anyway...so they were riding bikes, shooting basketball (into their pink hoop, driving cars, etc.  I took Isaac upstairs to nurse him thinking, the boys are fine.  They know where I am.  I can hear them.  All the dangerous stuff is out of reach.  What can happen?

Ha! Famous last words.  Never say that as the mother of boys.  Never say that as the mother of small children in general, actually.  I finished nursing one side and it suddenly occurred to me that it was eerily silent downstairs.  Everyone knows that that is never a good sign.  As I came down the stairs and turned the corner into the kitchen, the fumes hit me.  I stuck my head into the garage; Ethan was standing against the wall, with his eyes like deer in the headlights, a spray bottle of Orange Glo at his feet.  Noah, was holding a spray bottle of Fabulouso and bending over a miniature Playskool truck. 

"What are you doing?!?!"  I demanded.

Noah glanced up at me and replied, very matter-of-factly, "We just cleaning our cars."

"Ohhhh, noooooo!!!!!  No, no, no, no, no!  We do not play with this!"

How did I miss the fact that there was an entire bucket full of spray bottles?!?!  Ding, ding!  My Mom Points just went down a few notches. 

Then I noticed Ethan rubbing his eyes.  And I would like to thank certain Facebook friends for recently posting about bleach falling off the counter and splashing into their child's eyes because I immediately knew what to do.  Up to the bathroom we went and the child's eye is now very flushed out.  I think he's ok. 

Now here's where I considered deception.  The fumes from the cleaning supplies are slightly overwhelming.  Even the second floor smells clean.  My mom is coming to visit this evening.  I straightened up and vacuumed, but I have not officially cleaned my house for company.  My first thought was that I needed to text her and tell her that, despite the gloriously clean smell of my house, I had not cleaned.  I don't know why I felt like I had to confess to not cleaning, but I did.  Then I remembered reading a blog post where the mom confessed to deceiving people into thinking she had vacuumed by making her preschooler drive her baby stroller around the rug, leaving "vacuum lines".  I thought, that's what I should do.  I should send the boys out into the garage with goggles on, hand them bottles of Fabulouso, and let them go to town cleaning their cars.  Everyone who walks into my house will think, "Wow, her house is soooo clean!"  

I really actually considered that.  I'm not just pretending that I thought that to have an interesting blog post...I really thought that.  Is that what happens when you are the tired mom of three?  You start coming up with ways to pretend you do things that you don't so you either look or feel more competent than you actually are?  It's sort of like that trick I read once about how to get more usage out of a stained shirt.  If someone notices, pretend it just happened.  Then you can wear it longer without having to get rid of it.  I could totally get more time NOT cleaning by pretending I JUST DID!!!  Genius. 

Sigh...however.  I have now blogged about it and thus cannot put my schemes into action.  Accountability at its finest.

Two Months!

Two months!  We made it two months!  We might be tired but we're all here!  And generally happy!

Isaac had his two month checkup today and...drum roll, please...he weighs 11 lbs 3 oz and is 22 1/2 inches long. 

He's in the 50th percentile, people!!!  The Spence boys have always scraped the bottom of the growth charts so this is a very large leap for us.  Dave has been holding out hope that one of our boys will be tall so maybe he'll get his wish with this one. 

He's still the cutest, sweetest, most chill baby ever.  He hardly ever cries.  If he does cry, I know something is really bothering him. The biggest concerns I have about him (apart from the random fussy nursing) are that he has a clogged tear duct that keeps recurring and the baby eczema that plagued Ethan and Noah has made its appearance.  Most of the time, he lays around quietly watching everyone and everything and smiles almost non-stop if you pick up him.  He's started trying to coo; kinda funny to watch him because he moves his entire body and head while attempting to make any sort of noise.  He's oh-so-close to finding his thumb and I keep cheering him on in the search attempt because it worked out so well for Noah sleeping (well, until recently...read on). 

He is back to nursing pretty perfectly (who knows what that random frustrating fluke was a few weeks ago, but I'm sure it won't be the last random frustrating fluke to make its appearance).  He sleeps (and has done this since he was about 3 1/2 weeks old) for 5-8 hour stretches at night.  When he nurses at night, he eats and then cooperatively goes right back to sleep. 

Which is more than I can say for his brother.  Ugh.  Noah, after a break of about two weeks, is back to waking up every single night.  Saturday night, Dave and I were up for 3 hours while Ethan and Noah went back and forth waking each other up crying.  Dave ended up getting in bed with Noah until he fell asleep.  As soon as they all fell asleep, Isaac woke up.  Needless to say, we were exhausted the next day.  I'm almost regretting having the boys share a room because I feel like we would be getting more sleep if we hadn't made that move but it seemed like a good decision at the time and now that we've already transformed Noah's old room to a guest room, there is no going back now.  I don't really understand why the two month old is sleeping better than my three year old.  Makes no sense.  Everything is a phase...everything is a phase.  Just keep repeating, right?

Anyway...I'm happy to report that I do not believe jealousy towards the attention the baby receives is an issue with Ethan and Noah.  Maybe because Isaac is so chill that I sometimes forget to give him any attention unless he needs to eat, sleep or be changed.  Ahh...the curse of being the third kid.  But seriously, the boys love him. Today at his appointment, they were very concerned about him getting shots. Is he going to cry, Mom?  Is he going to get a band-aid?  Once he was in his carseat after his shots, he fussed a little more and both boys were happy to rock the seat and murmur, "It's ok, Isaac, it's ok."

I think they're going to be great buddies. 

I Used to Be Dumb

Yes, I know...I know I have just burst your bubble of thinking of me as the smartest, wittiest, with-it-est person you ever knew.  But it's true.  I used to be dumb.  Clueless.  And my family just cannot let those old jokes go sometimes.  So I thought I would fess up. 

Exhibit A:  When Is a Teenager a Teenager?
My friend Andrea (read her blog here) will appreciate this one.

People, I actually asked this once: Why can't you be a teenager when you're twelve? Why are you only called a teenager when you turn 13?  Andrea's response: "ThirTEEN, Elizabeth?  ThirTEEN." Ohhh, right.

Exhibit B:  VFW Post 147
Have any of you ever seen those benches outside strip malls or in the park that have "VFW [Veterans of Foreign Wars] Post #Whatever" painted on the back?  You know how that means that the VFW post paid for the bench to be put there?  Right.  Well, until I was about 17, I thought that WAS the VFW post.  In my defense, who wouldn't think that when elderly men (sometimes with uniform hats on) sat there every day?  You've never thought that?  Well..ok then, moving on...

Exhibit C: It's Like a Mask But Not Really
When I was a teenager (you know, after I turned 13), I used to go to the library and pick out book on random topics.  During the OJ Simpson trial, I came home with books on law and determined I was going to be a lawyer.  I brought home stacks of books on the American Revolution...19th century fashion...ballet, etc.  I would also sometimes pick up a biography of a random person.  One such biography was of this one on Marlene Dietrich:

 I don't even know why I picked it up since I cannot now name a single movie she was in.  But whatever...I didn't ever end up reading it.  For some reason, while goofing around with my sisters, I thought, Hey, this has her face on it.  I could hold it in front of my face and look like I have her head.  Sigh...I don't know.  Really....I don't know.  Anyway.  If you thought that was the part of the story where I acted dumb, you're wrong.  Here it is:  while holding the book up in front of my face, I couldn't figure out why I couldn't see anything.  Yeah....I distinctly remember thinking that it would be like a mask and I could see my sisters' reactions to my goofiness and then being confused and disappointed.  And the even dumbest part is that I actually confessed to thinking this.  Bad idea.  Because when you are 31, your family will take pictures at Christmas demonstrating that they have not forgotten and then they will post them on Facebook.

Thanks.  I love you too.

**I should add a disclaimer that I have no idea if they were actually making fun of me.  If not, I will just confess to a lingering insecurity.  And thank them for inspiring a blog post.**

Friendship Lesson #1: Be Intentional

I know it's only January, but so far, 2012 is shaping up to be the year in which I learn a lot about friendship.  Friendships with women, in particular. 

I remember when friendship was a piece of cake.  When you're 8 years old, all you need is someone to play with, someone who likes dressing up and acting out the Anne of Green Gables stories with you.  When you're a teenager, it gets a little tricky as you're all awkward and gangly and insecure.  When you're in college, you sort of have an automatic group of friends.  You're never alone, you always have someone with whom to go to dinner, to study and to make late-night diner runs.  Then you get out of college and it starts to get harder.  You get married and find yourself seeking friends whose husbands click with your husband and maybe eliminating friends whose personalities or behavior drives your husband crazy.  In the stage of life that I'm in now, friendships don't come as easily.  It's harder to find time to be kid-free or to have a conversation that doesn't involve yelling at the top of your lungs over the boys driving tricycles in circles around the kitchen table.  You're struggling to balance homemaking, work, marriage, exercise, cooking, grocery shopping, church ministry and service, etc. Where do friends fit in there? And then there's the Mompetition and the endless debate over whose parenting choices were "better". 

While discussing friendships with another friend and my husband, I've had a realization.  If I'm going to have real friendships, I'm going to have to be intentional about it.   My personality is naturally reserved.  I've always tended to have friends who were the opposite, who pursued me instead of the other way around.  I cannot tell you how many times I've felt lonely and had Dave urging me to just call someone! Go! Do! Something!  But I don't.  Recently there's been a sort of shifting around of relationships, of changes in groups of which I've been a part, of lifestyle choices that have altered the commonalities I've previously had with people and I've found myself realizing that if I want friends, I have got to step out and do something about it.  What does this mean?  How can I be intentional?  I notice ways in which other women have been intentional with me and I am inspired to be the same to others:

- If I hear about someone's struggles, don't ignore it.  Pursue them.  Make a point of calling to see how they are doing.  In an e-mail, I mention that I'm feeling burnt out by motherhood.  That friend e-mails me back with Scripture and encouragement, e-mails again to invite me to dinner, then calls to follow-up.  Another friend, reminded of how difficult life is with a newborn, texts me out of the blue to ask how it's going.

- Don't wait for others to open up and be honest.  Let yourself be vulnerable first. Without being asked, a friend bravely opens up about her struggles with motherhood, an act of intentional authenticity that allows me to know her better and know that if I share the same thing, there is no judgement, but instead, understanding.

- Do something for someone.  Sacrifice time and energy for her. Yet another friend, one who also has multiple kids, suggests a playdate, picks up my older boys for the morning, takes them back to her house to play, feeds them lunch and brings them home just in time for naps, thus giving me quiet,one-on-one time with Isaac for most of a day. And as another example, a while ago, a mom of four randomly called to tell me she was bringing a meal - not because I had had a major life even like childbirth - but because she had heard that my older boys were sick and knew how exhausting that is.  I remember being amazed and thankful that she would take that on.  And when she arrived with the meal?  Her kids had made get well cards and there were stickers and activity books along with the kid friendly food.

I've been too lazy in my friendships.  I value authentic relationships but they aren't going to just fall into my lap.  I've got to overcome my reserve, ignore the fear of rejection and make an effort on their behalf.  Lately, I've been amazed by the women that I've recently gotten to know a lot better.  I've been surprised by them, encouraged by them, and challenged by them.  So thankful...

Sharing with:  No Ordinary Blog Hop, Women Living Well
 

In Which I Again Confess That I Do Not Like Breastfeeding

Right now I'm trying to have that It-Will-All-Be-Fine-Don't-Let-It-Stress-You-Out attitude that I thought I would have as a mother of three and...I'm not having a whole lot of success.  Isaac is a sweet little boy, but he's seriously annoying me right now with the nursing.

For some background before I explain that...I do not love breastfeeding.  I'm not sure why but I don't.  I know that some women just adore it and feel empowered as women and all nurturing and whatever, but me?  I just do it because I know that it's unarguably the healthiest nutrition for a baby. 

I had a difficult time starting breastfeeding with my first baby, and I only nursed him for 7 1/2 months.  I would have continued had I not already been pregnant with my second baby and really felt like I wanted a break. 

Nursing my second baby began perfectly; he latched on and nursed efficiently precisely every three hours.  And then it all went to pot at the 6 week mark.  Noah began screaming bloody murder every time he would latch on (to one side in particular), choke, sputter, cough and completely refuse to nurse at all after that.  I struggled through that for 3 weeks - trying every suggestion I found on the breastfeeding support websites - until one day I caught myself thinking, "You know, I could really hurt him and not feel bad about it."  When I looked down at him, I felt nothing.  I felt apathetic.  Actually, I felt angry.  And that made me feel guilty.  Finally, I gave myself permission to stop nursing.  It was just way more important that my baby was alive and loved than that he got the "perfect" nutrition.  I still wrestled with feeling like a bad mom, especially when he had so many ear infections that he needed ear tubes.  Could I have prevented that if I had just persevered a little longer?  And even with 7 months breastfeeding my first baby, he wound up with a food allergy, something else that exclusively breastfeeding for a year (which I didn't do) is supposed to help prevent.  Who's to say...it's not my fault but still.  I will say that that experience made me way more sensitive to what I say to moms-to-be and current moms about their feeding choices.  The judgment cuts so deep. 

Prior to giving birth to Isaac, I steeled myself for the difficulty of breastfeeding.  I bought good nursing bras that I would like, The Nursing Mother's Companion book, nursing pads, etc.  And then it was anti-climactic.  Everything was great.  He latched on, nursed efficiently and quickly (like, 10 minutes or under), grew, etc.   HOWEVER.  The perfection has not lasted.  In the last week or so, he has started FREAKING OUT at almost every feeding.  He latches on, latches off, writhes, fusses, cries, jerks his head away, roots like a starving, frantic child, latches on, latches off, chokes, coughs, sputters and on and on we go.  If I can get him calmed down (i.e. nursing in a rocking chair and patting his bottom) he will nurse.  If I can't, forget it.  I've been ok about staying calm and not tensing up...just letting him fuss his way through it...but yesterday, I hit my frustration point.  I finally had to put him in his crib and walk away, even though he was still crying.  I was just getting angry.  I'm pretty sure he's hungry because he searches for the breast like he hasn't eaten in a year but as soon as he gets it, he gets mad.  So what have I tried?

1) I have given up and tried to nurse again later, thinking that maybe I'm not reading his cues correctly as hunger, but he is just hungry again an hour later and then the cycle starts all over.  I cannot do this every hour. 
2) I have a suspicion that the fussiness can be tied to the days when I drink extra caffeine; yesterday, I was even feeling jittery and the nursing was the worst it has ever been.  I had less caffeine today, the result being that I've had a caffeine headache and he's nursed decently with minimal fussing. 
3) I have thought that maybe he's distracted by the noise so I nurse him upstairs in his room if the boys are occupied.
4) If the problem is a fast letdown that is choking him, I've tried nursing him in different positions to help him out.  With two other kids, I don't have time to pump or express milk before every feeding.  I'm just happy to be able to actually sit down and nurse at all.

Ugh.  I'm telling myself that it's just a phase, that we will move through it and settle back down to a calm experience...probably...hopefully...but I'm starting to be afraid that we're going down the same route as what happened with Noah.  And, in my eyes, I gave up with Noah.  If I give up again, I can see myself struggling with serious Mommy Guilt.  I do not think formula is the Evil Option (since I've used it for two other babies), but I would prefer that he get the nutrition from breastmilk if possible.

Like one of my friends reminded me shortly after Isaac was born: With a newborn, every hour is an adventure.  I'm about ready for the adventure to come to a close now. 

Sleeping in the Spence House - Part One

Ah, sleep...that necessary element of life that nearly every parent seems to lack at one point or another.  When I was pregnant with Ethan (Boy #1), the single most annoying comment that I heard was this: "Sleep now, because you won't get any once the baby comes!"  Sorry, but that's just depressing.  I refuse to say that to anyone pregnant with their first baby. 
Sleep in our house has been a roller coaster for the past 6 weeks.  Here's the first reason why: Noah.  Yeah, Noah.  Not the newborn.

Starting the very night that Isaac was born, Noah suddenly stopped sleeping a solid 12 hours at night.  Nearly every single night - somewhere between 11pm-1am - he would wake up screaming hysterically.  Sometimes he would be wide awake sitting up in his crib or bed and sometimes he wouldn't even seem awake, eyes closed and laying down, somewhat disoriented.  Since I was already getting up at night with Isaac, Dave took the responsibility of calming him down at night.  This went on for a month until we finally hit a desperation point.  We HAD to have something change because it was just miserable with neither one of us sleeping through the night.  I asked the pediatrician, who told us that we were training him to cry and then have someone come in and that he wouldn't stop unless we stopped going in there.  I was kind of conflicted about that advice because, although I don't have a problem with letting a kid cry it out every once in a while if I can tell their needs are met, there were a few problems.  Problem #1) Noah was really upset and scared and not just crying to annoy us.  Did I really want to choose to NOT comfort him?  Problem #2) Ethan sleeps in the same room, in the top bunk.  We could potentially have two kids awake and crying instead of one. (Ethan usually slept through the crying because Dave got to Noah so quickly).  But what did we do?  We tried to let him cry it out.  FAIL!!!  Both boys wound up crying...in two different non-harmonizing pitches...we went in and comforted them once...they started crying again once we left...we laid in bed listening to them cry over the monitors for five minutes...Noah got out of bed and made his way to our room.  Annnnddd, that was the end of that.

So, I took to Facebook for the advice of the veteran moms.  Their advice was to start talking to Noah about why he was crying at night and then (without guilt tripping) explain that everyone in the house (including him) needs to sleep.  I told him that if he was scared, I would pray with him and that if he woke up and was scared, he could pray because God was always taking care of him. I told him that when big boys wake up at night, they close their eyes and go back to sleep quietly.  I told him I would be really proud of him if he slept through the night.  Guess what?  Here we are 10 days later and we've all had 9 nights of uninterrupted sleep (well, apart from the nursing baby).  I have praised him up and down for sleeping so soundly and he has actually become proud of himself for doing it. ("I did it, Mom!") Oh yeah, and we dosed him up with Herbs for Kids "No More Monsters" - a homeopathic sleep aid for kids.  Love that stuff. Works like a charm. 

So that's part of what's been going on sleep-wise around here.  Tomorrow I'll tell you the part about the newborn.  Prepare to hate me.  I have an awesome baby.

The Encouragement of the Gospel

Last week I wrote about how I just could not get myself out of the emotional, burnt out funk that I was in.  I felt like I was praying my way through it and it wasn't making a difference in my day.  What was I doing wrong?  Why wasn't it getting any better?  Why wasn't I feeling any better? 

A few days ago, I picked up a book that I'm reading with a bunch of friends and I found the best encouragement.  Just thought I would share it.

If you are like me, perhaps the name of Jesus does cross your mind, usually as a prayer shot up in haste when the freeway is a parking lot or the parking lot is as jammed as a rush-hour freeway.  Does it seem as though the story of Christ's life, death, and resurrection are cherished truths yet strangely disconnected from daily life?  Are they kind of like your elderly aunt's jewels that are kept in a safe deposit box at the bank?  You know they are there and that you could see them any time you asked, but they aren't part of your everyday life, and you never think about them unless you're in a jam and wonder if she might let you pawn a piece of two.  No, our thoughts are generally entangled with baseball tryouts, melted crayons in the dryer, and the silence around the dinner table now that the kids have moved out.

...In the way we speak to our children when they disappoint, the way we celebrate special holidays, the attitude we embrace when our fondest hopes are dashed, the prayer we utter when physical pain engulfs us, we're to proclaim [Christ's] death until he comes back for us.  But how can we do that?

We do that by intentionally focusing our thought on him instead of on ourselves or on what we think we're missing.  I think it's very easy for me to focus my attention on myself.  I don't mean that I just sit around thinking about me and how wonderful I am (although I'm not above that!)  No, I mean that I tend to focus my thought on my Christianity - how I'm doing, what I'm learning, how my prayer time was today, how I avoided that pesky sin or fell into it again  I think about what I'm supposed to accomplish for Christ, and I interact with others on that same works-oriented ground.  But this day isn't about me at all.  It's about him: his sinless life, death, resurrection, ascension and reign and the sure promise of his return.  It's the gravity of his life that should attract my thought toward him.

...When you fail today, you need to comfort of this proclamation; he died for that very sin.  Tell yourself about his death.  When you feel overwhelmed by your responsibilities, remember that he is ruling sovereignly over every facet of your life, and soon he will return to right every wrong and relieve you of your trouble.  When you wonder if your life will ever change, he wants you to remember that he is coming back and that this life as it is won't last forever.

- Elyse Fitzpatrick, Comforts From the Cross

Goals for 2012

Alright, here we go.  What would I like to accomplish in this new year? 

Marriage/Family
1) NOT get pregnant.  And if you know me, you know I was pregnant again 6 months after I had my first baby, so this is TOTALLY a valid goal.
2) Go on dates with Dave. 
3) Get up at least one morning a week with Dave.  Dave usually gets up around 6:00/6:30 but I typically roll out of bed when I hear the boys wake up, but he really really loves when I'm up in the morning with him.  He told me a few weeks ago that he would love if I got up with him at least one morning a week.  I am not a morning person.

Homeschooling
1) Casually begin some workbooks with Ethan; he seems to be starting to be interested in reading so maybe we'll start that? I feel like I can't make a real specific goal here since he's only four, but we'll just play it by ear this year.

Church
1) Start our own community group.
2) Take basic biblical counseling class offered in the spring. (This is tentative based on how organized we are able to be and also what time they offer the class. If it's during the second service, then it's off the list because we are involved with the alternative service which takes place during second service.)
3) Start a women's small group Bible study with my friend Courtney. (Anyone want to join us? I think we're doing this study on Hebrews.)

Spiritual/Personal Growth
1) Complain less. 
2) Focus on my tone of voice towards the kids...more gentle, less short and terse.  Less barking of commands.  If you find yourself doing the same thing, join me for this:

Cooking
1) Make homemade marshmallows from this recipe.
2) Make homemade graham crackers and/or wheat thins.
3) Make homemade pasta.

Home Projects
1) Painting projects: finish kitchen, playroom, guest room, living room
2) Decorate guest bedroom.
3) Keep up with laundry.

Health/Nutrition
1) Lose 13 lbs to get back to my comfortable weight number of 120 lbs. 
2) Exercise 4-5 times a week (necessary for weight loss).  I plan to start alternating between running and my personal trainer - Jillian Michaels - and get shredded.  Not exactly looking forward to the shredding part...
3) Drink at least 64 oz of water.
4) Eat lots of fruit and vegetables.

Books (In addition to random fun reading)
(My goal in general is to read 2 books a month.  Last year it was 5, but I'd rather not overwhelm myself with a newborn in the house.)

Marriage:
Feminine Appeal - Carolyn Mahaney
Marriage, Divorce, and Remarriage in the Bible - Jay E. Adams (this might not get finished in entirety because it looks fairly heavy to me, but I feel like I need an informed biblical opinion on the subject; does this count as my one "somewhat controversial" book?)

Parenting:
Give Them Grace - Elyse Fitzpatrick
Don't Make Me Count to Three - Ginger Plowman
Wild Things: The Art of Nurturing Boys - Stephen James

Christian Living:
Grace For the Good Girl: Letting Go of The Try-Hard Life - Emily Freeman
Crazy Love - Francis Chan
Comforts From the Cross - Elyse Fitzpatrick
Hoping For Something Better - Nancy Guthrie (study of Hebrews)

Homeschooling:
Homeschooling the Early Years - Linda Dobson

Classic Literature:
David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
The Mill on the Floss - George Eliot
Cranford - Mary Gaskill
Kidnapped - Robert Louis Stevenson
The Age of Innocence - Edith Wharton

Looking forward to a productive year!!

Top Ten Christmastime Moments

1) The boys getting hand, foot and mouth disease...oh yes, they did.  Those random fevers I mentioned in one of my dreary posts?  Yep.  That's what that was.  Weird.  It sounds like something from the middle ages. 

2) The pink basketball hoop - Ummm, this would be my fault.  I bought the basketball hoop back in October and it sat in my closet for 2 months.  Did I notice it was pink?  Nope.  I didn't notice it until they opened the present and then it was like, Ohhhh....it's pink.  And it isn't even a subtle shade of pink.  Pale pink rim.  Magenta post.  Lavender base.  But what could I say?  "Sorry, boys, you're not allowed to play with this because it's pink".  Right.  So.  We have a pink basketball hoop.  They don't care, but it does stand out like a sore thumb in a rough and tumble glaringly obvious boy house like ours.  Someday they'll look back at pictures from this Christmas and ask us why the heck we bought them a pink basketball hoop.

3) Little boys who loved their presents so much that they had to play with each one for at least 20 minutes before they moved on to the next one.

4) Having a 5 week old baby at Christmas: It definitely makes the Christmas story much more relatable.  When I got up to nurse in the middle of the night, I just kept thinking about how Mary did the same thing with Jesus..the God of the universe.  Dave and I watched "The Nativity Story" a few days before Christmas and we both ended up either teary or out and out crying during the birth scene. 

5) Cousin time!

All the Spence cousins - we tipped the scale this year in favor of the boy cousins!

6) Visit from the PA relatives - Nana and Papa, Great-Grandaddy and Nanna Mary, and Uncle Stephen and Rachel.

7) Entirely too much food.  This year, one family member revealed that he has a secret talent as a food artist.

Grilled cheese masquerading as a Christmas tree

8) Ethan being more excited about the Polar Express coming than that Santa was bringing presents. Mom being very concerned about how to explain why the Polar Express did not pick him up. There just really isn't a lie that would not make him depressed ("Oh, sorry, buddy...the train stopped here and called for you but you were asleep and didn't hear the conductor...you missed the train")

9) Cut out cookies that just about used up every bit of sprinkles and colored sugar that I had bought.  And now I am reminded that little hand-foot-and-mouth-disease-infected hands were dipping into the sprinkles that are left...licking sprinkles off their hands and dipping right back in.  Hmmm...maybe should throw the rest away? 

10) Being a family of FIVE at Christmas!!  I love my boys!