For Whom My Heart Hurts the Most—On Deployment...

You know, I've often heard it said of military men and women, "You signed up for this..."

Whatever.

One can NEVER really understand what he or she is 'in for' until one is actually walking in those shoes.  Literally.

I know I chose to marry a man who chose to make the United States Marine Corps his career.
I know I chose to support him in whatever that career choice demanded.
I knew it was not going to be an easy thing to do, seeing as it's a very unique calling.

I knew I loved him, so it didn't matter.

But I had no idea how my heart would be pulled and tugged and full of pride and fear all at the same time.

No one does.

You can casually tell someone that your husband will be gone for eight months or so, and they will usually give the perfunctory, "Thanks for his service and your sacrifice," and you respond with, "Yes, it will be hard, but we can do it," and not even give it a second thought in this life of a military wife and mother.

But until you live it?  You have no idea, and you SURE as heck didn't know what you were in for when you "signed up for it..."

Which is not to say that I am not very proud to be a military spouse, or extremely proud of my husband's dedication and courage.

Or that I am not equipped to handle this deployment...it's certainly not my first, and though none have been something I'd ask for, I've held my own.

I've never done a year.
I've never done a year with a child.

When John and I got married, there is no way we would have ever guessed where our lives would take us...how our hearts would have grown larger than we ever imagined or how they could be broken into a million pieces.

How they could be renewed.

We had no idea that being separated from each other would be hard, but separated from our children?

The hardest things we'll ever do.

My heart hurts so much for John.  It hurts for Luke, no doubt, as he has just fallen in love with Daddy these last few weeks of holidays and leave time together.  He will miss Daddy more than I expect I can imagine.

He'll be ok, though.  He's young, and not entirely cognizant of what's really going on.

How Daddy is at work in a very dangerous place for a very long time and Mommy prays not only for Daddy's quick return, but more for his safety no matter what.

He'll have his moments, but for the most part, he won't miss John as much as John will miss him.

John loves that child with a love I'm often surprised by.  A fierce and protective love, yet a love that is proud and playful and whimsical and awe-striking.  John learned when Matthew died that men cry.  Strong men cry.  He's not ashamed to tear up and there is no doubt that separation from Luke will at times bring him to tears over the course of this year.

I'll find things to do.  I've decided my word for the year is OPPORTUNITY.  Luke and I will take advantage of the opportunities that this year can bring.  Instead of focusing on what we lose this year (which is the hardest thing for me), I'm going to focus on the opportunity a year can bring.

John will have it much tougher.  Working hard, in a hard-to-work place, and distanced from his loves.

Please pray for him.  Pray for us, as we always appreciate prayers, but more, please pray for him.  Pray for his heart to be comforted by any way we can send a little piece of home to him and pray for this year to be one of opportunity and renewal.

Mostly, pray for his safety.  Pray he comes home safely, as well as all who leave with him.

Thank you for your prayers and your support.  We are grateful.

Pity Party...

Look.

I read blogs.  Not as much as I used to because I am far busier than I was after Matthew died.

But I used to read a lot.  Still read some a lot.

Am embarrassed to say that some I judged pretty harshly because they were either too peppy (and I found it impossible to be as optimistic and happy and joyous as they were in spite of their life's circumstances) or they were too depressing (and Lord knows I knew a thing or two about depressing).

I didn't judge them publicly. (Seriously.  If you do NOT like something you read, then for crying out loud, DON'T READ.  I have no idea why people feel like it's ok to trash talk someone online just because it's online.)

Anyway, I don't judge publicly.  I try not to judge.  It's hard, though, because when I try to put myself in the shoes of others, I obviously think about how *I'd* react and behave, and frankly, some of the blogs I've come across were ones where I just couldn't believe them, for whatever reason.

I'm sure some say that about mine.

"Good grief, she sounds like she never has a second of hard parenting. Always Pollyanna about Luke.  Doesn't she EVER just get frustrated with him and want to scream?"

(Yes.  Three days before Christmas I was making a recipe that had yummy orange icing.  Sugar, people.  Orange and sugar.  I tried and tried and tried and TRIED to get Luke to even have a taste.  Just a teeny one, thinking he'd want more if he'd just *TASTE* it.  He refused, it got ugly and icing went everywhere.  I was frustrated, believe me, and even found myself saying, in a tone I don't love, "For crying out LOUD, Luke.  It's ICING.")

Or...

"Dear Lord, I just can't read another word of this.  It makes my heart hurt too much.  She seems so broken.  I thought she was doing better and she seems even WORSE!"

I feel ya.  There are lots of days I think about how depressing it is.  How depressed I am.

And then 30 seconds later, how grateful I am and how much joy I have in my life.

Throw in a daddy leaving for a year.  It's probably obvious that he's leaving soon.

Very, very, very soon.

For a year.

A year seems like such a long time.

But three years ago was yesterday.

A year ago, I was about to be pregnant again.

Yesterday, I lost him.

Sigh.  I'm obviously no stranger to being a military spouse (16 years, OY!) or deployments, but never a YEAR with a child.  It's hard.  I can do it.  I can handle it.  I've no doubt.  Luke and daddy being separated that long breaks my heart though.

I feel like he's already lost a lifetime with two of his sons.

He says he had their whole lifetimes.

Potato/potahto.  Easy to tell who is the glass-full kind of person, huh?

Luke is going to a speech evaluation.  He has his two year check up tomorrow.  I've filled out the Ages and Stages and the MCHAT.  No issues...except with communication.

For a kid with the vocabulary he has (yesterday, he dug through a box of hotwheel cars/planes, pulled out what I'd call a blimp and called it a "Zepplin") and the strong abilities in other areas, his speech development is behind.

Significantly.  He is not phrasing much, doesn't really use pronouns, and though he repeats EVERYTHING, and can remember too, he does not do much construction.

Probably related to sensory integration issues, which are presenting their own sets of challenges, and well...my heart aches for him.

People off the street would have NO clue.  None.  Others tell me he's FINE.  (He is, regardless.) Others tell me that in the big scheme of 'issues', his are so minimal. (I know, I know...trust me, I know.)

But I'm not dumb.  I'm not trying to force issues on my kid.  I am NOT a hover mother.

I have degrees in early childhood development, as well as certifications as a special needs teacher with a focus on autistic spectrum disorders.  I'm not completely ignorant to flags at 2 that turn into the issues I saw in my students at 7.

No, I don't think he's close to being on the spectrum, and even if he was, no big deal.

In fact, it's more frustrating that it's *just* sensory issues because people like to dismiss those as not a big deal.

When your kid eats a meal every two or three days, trust me, it can be a big deal.  Thank God he ate this morning.  He was hungry, obviously, because he's not eaten much of anything since Saturday.  

Yes, Saturday.

Anyway...my guess is the eval will say he's fine; he's a boy; come back in 3 months.  Great. I'd be glad to do that.

If not, we'll deal with whatever.

Just having one of those days where I'm feeling down.  Not woe is me, just woe is.


So, off to the park we go.  No woe is possible at the park, is it?

I didn't think so.

Walking With You...Some Reflection.

After Matthew died, I scoured the Internet.

I mean, that's of course after I was able to breathe for a few minutes...look at a computer screen or any thing, really, without great heaving and sobbing.

I needed to find something.

Wasn't sure of what it was.  Well, of course I knew what it was.  I wanted to find the way to fix everything.  To rewind back to right before she said, "I'm going to go ahead and break your water," and live *that* life.

The life where he would have lived.

No such luck.

Instead, I found blogs of women who also knew what I was looking for.  How to survive and live and still love God, and yes, even to find more joy and happiness in a world that had shattered.

One of those sites was Kelly's.  Kelly offers such special things for mothers who've lost babies, and though I couldn't bring myself to ask for any, I was grateful for her ability to comfort mothers like me and to do so with the perspective of having been there before herself.

In the beginning days of my life without Matthew, I found myself doing her Walking With You series.  Writing being therapeutic, I figured it was a great way to release words screaming in my mind and heart, as well as 'meet' other people who would know just how I was feeling.

In a world of people who don't know telling you how "It'll get better," I wanted to hear more from those who said, "I know it will never go away, but it won't always be this heavy.  It won't always take each breath away...just some of them here and there."

I wanted to know and hear from women who survive.

This last year has been a hard one.  After losing Matthew in 2009, I was a shell of the person I ever was before.  The big smile and bright eyes I'd always been complimented on were gone...and in my mind, gone forever.

One does not ever go back to *that* person after something so sacred and precious is taken from her.

When Luke was born in 2011, I became a new person.  A mother with a broken heart and a fully whole heart at the same time.  Capable of still being overcome with great sobbing sorrow and yet, being able to find joy in every.single.second with this sweet reminder that God can send restored joy and hope when we couldn't ever expect it.

When we started our third IVF cycle this time last year, I was, with no doubt, happy.  Content.  Longing, always, of course, for a baby boy in Heaven, but grateful for the one on earth and choosing to relish every second with him.  Another baby would have just been such a blessing, but honestly, if the cycles (I'd planned to attempt two) didn't work, I'd be ok.  Luke was enough.

Getting pregnant again was such a shock.  A joyful one, but still, shock nonetheless.  The cycle went amazingly well (not usual for me) and my numbers were great.  I plopped Luke in a Big Brother shirt, bribed him with a lollipop (only his 4th one, ha ha) and could not believe our great blessings.

Another baby!  Such joy.

Until we lost him right at the beginning of the second trimester.  No reason; normal, healthy baby boy.
Just gone.

I found myself right back there.  That place.  And this time, I was asking why I even got pregnant in the first place.  With Matthew, my whole pregnancy and our time together had been precious.  Amazing.  Perfect.  His life and death changed me in ways I'd never imagined.  Even knowing he'd die in the end, I'd not have changed a single thing.

But the second time? When I lost Trey, I was just so distraught...I'd been happy.  Having another baby was just icing. I was blessed to have a sweet boy in my arms already and honestly, did not know WHY that happiness had to be marred again with yet ANOTHER loss.

Why even allow pregnancy through such a complicated process as IVF to only lose him?

Again.

There's a difference, too, in the level of support.  There's never been any lack of support for our loss of Matthew.  It's very easy to see he was a real, living and breathing healthy baby, and people are often torn and heartbroken for us just looking at pictures of his daddy holding him.

But not so much with Trey.

Isolation.  I feel isolated.  Still, as I recognize that my third baby boy should have been gazing at twinkling stars on the Christmas tree, I feel like I'm the only one who remembers what my body lost.

What my heart lost.

So I'm doing this series again.  To remember, reconnect and restore.  There is great power in empathy, and often it's just the power that is needed to remind one she is not alone.  She is heard.  She is understood.

She will survive and she will grow.

With others.  Just as God intended us to do...carrying one another's burdens to love and support.

I'm grateful for those who've carried mine, and blessed for the opportunity to carry others'.

Luke Is Two!

My heart.

Of course.


Because he's just finally learned to answer, "One!" when I ask, "How old are you?"

Being silly for the camera because he knew I wanted a smile!

That boy!

He insisted on carrying these balloons all over the house...even with him in his room for nap!

Note the candy cane to bribe.  He's not into skittles or jelly beans these days.

He is the love of our lives.  He is funny and finds himself funny, which is even funnier.

He sings.  All.the.time.  Songs I had no idea he even knew.  I love turning to look at him when I hear him sing something and he'll look at me with this sweet, shy little smile and keep singing.  He knows words I had no idea he knew because he sings them perfectly to the radio or jingle he hears.  He bounces his little shoulder and belts it out.  He tries to dance, but like his Mama and Daddy...well, it's cute, but he's definitely a singer and not a dancer!

The singing makes ME sing.

He is a counting fiend.  Randomly, he'll just start counting.  To ten, sometimes to 12.  I.have.no.idea.how.he.knows.that.  I have always counted with him when using stairs and things like that, but land alive! The boy's been listening!

He cracks us up when we say the blessing before meals.  We shouldn't laugh, but it's so darned cute.  We'll say, "Let's say 'Thank you, Jesus!'" and we'll hold hands.  Then he squeezes his eyes shut like they have been glued together and a couple seconds later, opens to check if we are watching.

Which we often are.

He's getting so much better about responding with, "Thank you," without me prompting him to, and his little southern accent is TOO.MUCH!  I adore it, especially his little "Ma'am" ... which is more like, "Maayyy-uuuhhhm" (Yes, we have him say "Yes, Ma'aam/Yes Sir; No, Ma'am/No Sir"... I'm almost 40 and I do, my boy will have manners too!)

He melts my heart every time he says, "Uff eww" in response to me telling him I love him.  Which is pretty much all the time.  He loves his Mama, that's for sure, and makes my heart go pitter patter!

He's all about showers these days...that little stinker wants to just jump in anytime he hears the water running, clothes and all.  He prefers a shower to bath, and honestly, that's almost easier for now, so I am glad he enjoys them.  Toothbrushing too.  He got a Thomas vibrating toothbrush in his stocking for Christmas and he LOVES it.  He's always loved brushing his teeth, but he literally dreams of that toothbrush.  Trains, trucks and aircraft—the boy is all boy and his daddy couldn't be more thrilled.  He's good about knowing the difference between a helicopter, an airplane and an Osprey.

Yes, there's a big difference!

He loved the snow, for a while, and then was ready to go in.  Just like Mama!

Still sleeps pretty well and naps like a champ from about 1-3:30/4 most days.  I am SO lucky.  Still has his boppy (paci) for nighttime and naps, and since the ADA says they are ok up until 4, I am not pushing getting rid of it while Daddy is gone.  Nor am I potty-training anytime soon.  I've heard you can start at 2 and your son will be trained by 3 or you can start at 2 years, 11 months and your son will be trained by 3.

Opting for the latter!

He  still doesn't watch a ton of tv, but he sure does love his iPod and iPad and can work those like a champ! He only has a few shows he likes...Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, Thomas, Yo Gabba Gabba and Wonderpets are some favorites, but he's also added Dora and Curious George to his playlist.  He still really only wants to watch the same few episodes, but those episodes are practically memorized.  It cracks me up to hear him recite lines.

Pretty much the only tv he watches is with Daddy, and that's the main time he snuggles with Daddy.  This was tonight after dinner.

He has a lot of words still, but is just now starting to phrase (and often, phrases he's heard from Dora—"I did it!" or Yo Gabba—"I like it!") and I'm somewhat surprised since he has such a huge vocabulary.  He just turned two, though, so I'll give him a little more time before I worry.  Ha ha.

He is exceptionally good at leading you by the hand to show you what he's talking about if you are not getting it.  "Hands, hands," he'll say, so he can take yours and get his point across.

The boy knows his construction equipment!  He can tell the difference between a backhoe and a frontloader and a bulldozer and a crane (and now so can I!) and he sure does love construction vehicles.    They will be the theme of his birthday party tomorrow.

We'd not really planned much, but in thinking about Daddy being gone for a year, we wanted to squeeze in all the memories we could make, so we threw something together.  Poor child.  His mother is NOT a party-planner by any means.  I even tried to figure Pinterest out more for a few suggestions.

Yes, my Mother Of the Year trophy surely is in the mail!

Helping put his goody bags together...really, he was just trying to play with everything.  This was after his nap.  He carried those balloons EVERYWHERE!

Today was low-key, as we will celebrate more tomorrow.  He had a yummy breakfast of donee holes and yogurt and applesauce.  He ate tons of hot dog and yogurt at lunch, and his birthday dinner was cheese bread, yogurt bites, crispix and fruit bites.

Birthday dinner.  He's eating.  I'll take it.

Yes, yogurt is a theme.  Therapy is going ok, but he still is very, very resistant to new foods and eating and we are working on a lot of tactile and vestibular sensory integration.

Anyone off the street wouldn't have a clue that we have issues.

And though they aren't big ones, they still are there.  Mommy knows, and we are working on them.

He is so funny.  He's starting to exert his will, and even that is funny.  He'll do something he shouldn't do, and I'll say, "Nein, nein!!!  Not okay!" Then, I'll give him the "Mom" look and he stares back...as if we are in a stare-off.

Then he giggles.

Which makes me giggle!

Some faces for the camera as he walks with Daddy...

Situation diffused pretty easily!  I am so, so thankful that even in the middle of a fit, it's still a short fit and one that I can usally divert pretty easily.  I pray this temperment lasts.  Mellow and laid-back with just enough spunk to keep it interesting.

Love.

I cannot believe how quickly two years have passed.  I am sad that John will leave at such a fun time, but he and I agree that there really is never a good time to leave your kid for a year.

We are well aware of how precious every second is.

His anti-daddy campaign is over...right in time for Daddy to deploy, of course.  That's ok.  John will take all the snuggling he can get!

Samuel Luke, you have been such a joy to your parents.  You have shown me an ability to love that even surprises me, your bleeding heart Mama.  I never doubted that I'd be a sappy, lovey-dovey mother, but you make it so, so easy to just let things roll off my back and not stress over anything but enjoying every second of your childhood.

It goes too quickly, and I don't want to come to the end of my days regretting not using our time together wisely.  You are our sunshine, and every day I end in prayer thanking God for the gift of you.

Happy Birthday, sweet boy.

I love you with everything I am and have, and you'll ALWAYS be my baby!

My Whole World...2012

This.

That's my whole world.

Without doubt, this has been another very tough year.  Starting out with a new IVF cycle that was as wildly successful (relatively speaking, of course) as it was really was just icing on a very delicious cake that has been my life since Luke was born.

And then the icing was gone.

We lost another baby boy, Trey, in April.  Unexpected (though Luke and I had been sick with strep, Norovirus and bronchitis my entire pregnancy), I was sort of back at that grief-place I'd not been in a while.

Why?  Why even let me get pregnant if You are not going to let me keep him? (Again.)

And with such, such different support.  Still blessed, without doubt, but with questions like, "Why did you even name it?" or comments like, "It's easier to lose earlier than later," and "It's not the same as when you lost Matthew,"I admit that I spent a large portion of this year biting my tongue and praying for strength to be graceful.  There is very, very, very much a discrepancy in how people view miscarriage vice how they view neonatal death and it's extremely hurtful and isolating.

In addition to the full, fresh cycle in January, I also went through a frozen transfer, another fresh cycle that was canceled and another fresh cycle did not result in pregnancy.  All this by September.

I was busy.  My body was busy.  I found a lump and thought about the irony in that...all I've gone through to build my family and then I end up leaving the one I actually get to raise motherless.

Good times.

The shootings in Connecticut have been really horrific for my PTSD.  I hate even saying that, because certainly, the loss of those lives is NOT about me, but the feelings that go with my empathy for those families have triggered some very panic-attack anxieties in me.

I remember what it feels like to have that brick wall hit you in the face.  Who dies of labor complications anymore?

I remember what it feels like to have stockings hung and Christmas presents waiting, but the intended will never breathe again, much less come home to those gifts.

I remember Christmas songs about being the most wonderful time of the year coming on and wanting to throw up because that was the LAST thing I was thinking.

I remember what it feels like to pick a grave out instead of take your child to see Santa.

I remember.  Like it was yesterday.  Five minutes ago.

And it still makes my heart physically ache and takes my breath away.

This has been a busy year for John too.  His job and his career have been challenging.  In the way that really great things are challenging, but challenging nonetheless.  We are but weeks away from him deploying for up to a year, and honestly, I don't even now how my heart is going to be able to handle watching him hand Luke to me one last time as we drop him off.

Luke is his whole world too.

There is much to be said about the strength of military wives and mothers.  I agree--we are pretty fabulous.

Honestly, though, I also feel like it's easy to be so because I win no matter what.

John is home?  We have Luke.

John is gone?  I have Luke.

I have Luke.

Praise God, I have Luke.

If I am truthful, I don't want John to go, of course.  Since he is, though, and there's no changing it, I won't lie and say I'll wish the time to pass quickly.

I want him home quickly, no doubt.

But time is moving too, too fast.  Too fast.

I'll never, ever, ever wish a second of Luke's life to move faster than it already does.

Accepting that we are not going to have any more children has been hard for me.

Is hard for me.  I want the ones I've carried here with me, and I would love more too.

I've always wanted to mother many children.  I didn't realize I'd need to be more specific in my wants and want them to be alive as I mothered them.

And now, we are done.  We will not pursue any more IVF.  For various reasons, and admittedly, mostly out of fear because of our own or close friends' experiences, we will not pursue adoption.

Babies don't just show up on doorsteps.

We are done.

Which makes me cherish and adore every single second I have with Luke.  Even the ones where he is swatting because he's mad or screaming because I can't find his 'Ah-hoe' (backhoe) fast enough or refuses, refuses, REFUSES to eat...every single second of that child's life is an amazing blessing and gift to me, and neither John nor I take that gift for granted.

2013 will be quite the year, no doubt.

I recognize that I will be challenged to parent for two, and will do my best to compensate for the time apart on both John's and Luke's part.

John and I will both turn 40 in just a couple of months.  Wow.

Luke is changing and growing SO.MUCH.EVERY.DAY.  His words, thoughts and actions are so...

...little boy.

So less and less baby.

Sigh.

In any event, here's to 2013.  Grateful for so much I have, and looking forward to the adventures Luke and I will have as we pray for Daddy's (and so many others') safe return home to us.

Some recent pictures...

Not digging Santa at all.  In fairness, Santa was grumpy.

Silly Christmas Morning!

Mommy was a little bit worried about how to stop going so quickly!

He had a blast with Daddy!

Wintergreen for New Year's!  Family time before daddy leaves!

Some Christmas Crafting!

I am not crafty.

I wish I was.

I try to be.

I pretend I am sometimes.

I buy a lot of stuff with good intentions to be so.

But I'm not.

This salt-dough craft is going all over the internet, though, and it looked 'somewhat' doable.  I mean, for  crying out loud!  I am an elementary teacher!  Crafts are the BEST part of teaching!  Surely I could attempt it and have somewhat of a success with Luke.

Surely.

So, without further ado...a little pictorial of last Saturday afternoon.  We had fun.  About halfway through, he believed me when I said I'd give him a skittle if he put Mimi's apron on (NO WAY to the hat...yet, ha ha!), so at least I have a picture or two of him in it!  Speaking of...the giveaway ends TONIGHT so if you haven't entered already, do so!  I have to figure out how to pick the winner with rafflecopter (anybody want to give me the Cliff's Notes version?) and then we'll get that info to Karie/Mimi.  You will LOVE it!

Carefully pouring ingredients....not letting go of the backhoe, though!

Checking his work!

Giving it a good stir with a spoon...

...and the backhoe!

Seriously thinking about this!

Wearing Mimi's apron...note the smartie in his hand as bribery.!

Kneading the dough...

Rolling it out....

He may or may not be in the middle of "Eyebrows" here...

The finished products!  Not bad for a NOT crafty mom, huh?

a Rafflecopter giveaway

"Sins" Of The Mother...

I have been pretty sappy these days.

Ha ha.

Even more than usual, I mean.

I am just loving every single day with Luke this season.  I make sure I always have dollar bills so every where we go, and there is a Salvation Army ringer, I give him money (which he immediately tries to shove down his collar—aka, his "Pocket") and then we go to the ringer and I help him put money into the bucket...telling him, "Jesus wants us to give money to friends who need help for His birthday."

He's at the point now where when he sees the ringer, he says, "Jesus?"

Melt my heart.

The other night, we were sitting on the sofa in the dark in front of our lit tree and asking Luke what different things were.  "O-Man,"  "Ambbie," (lambie), "Urtle" (turtle), etc...I pointed to an ornament with Matthew's picture and said, "Who is that?" and he said, "Maf-few."

Then he kept saying it, "Maf-few, Maf-few, Maf-few.  Ee-sus.  Ee-sus." (Jesus).

Again, my heart melts so much these days.

Of course, it aches too.  It's still hard to hear "It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year!" on the radio.  It was not that long ago that I wanted to shrivel up and die during this "Wonderful time."  The other morning, in church, our pastor was talking about the Christmas Eve services coming up and how they would be.

For a moment, I was taken back to three years ago.  Not even a month had passed since we'd lost Matthew, and I stuffed myself into a skirt to go to Christmas Eve service.  It was the first time I'd been back at church, and I was grateful that the place was so packed there was no way for friends to really come and hover around.  For the most part, it was just sympathetic glances and silent hugs...appropriate words simply not known and honestly, not known how to accept.

And the snow....everyone loved the snow.

Everyone but me.


Anyway, John's impending departure is rapidly approaching.  Too quickly.



I just got Luke's eval report from his therapist.

I should preface with the fact that every time I walk into that office, I thank God that our 'issues' are ours, and not the issues of others.  I realize that much of the stuff we work on in therapy with Luke are things that many people don't give a second thought to...consider quirky or a phase and think, "Whatever...he'll eat when he's hungry."

Except, he won't.

And I know firsthand because I don't.

I do not always eat when I am hungry.  In fact, more often than not, I eat a meal and a half a day and somewhat snack or drink water for the rest of the day.  I'd not even really consider my 'snacking' much at all.

I am not an eater. I never have been.  I was allergic to most everything growing up.  Dairy/wheat/corn and all products thereof?  Off the shelf.

I was not picky.  I just couldn't eat much of anything because if I did, I'd end up in the hospital with an asthma attack.

I WANTED to eat.  I would 'sneak' cheese.  I LOVE cheese.  Love it.  I wanted to eat a lot of things.

I just couldn't.  Wholefoods wasn't around then and my choices were limited.  Habits were formed.

And stick.  Just the other day I was thinking about how healthy I always am in pregnancy...how I was soo healthy with Matthew and Luke, and even with Trey, couldn't help but catch the bugs that Luke brought me.  It dawned on me that I was super healthy because I was SUPER vigilant about making sure I was eating as nutritionally sound as I could.  Most days, I was forcing myself, I admit, but I was not going to take a bit of nutrition away from my growing babies.


So, imagine how much it hurt my heart to read these words, "Luke has very, very limited interest in food and poor recognition of hunger throughout the day.  Further, he curbs his hunger.  Though visibly hungry, he will without fail, refuse foods, often times even food he has previously shown interest in."

And these words, "Luke has difficulty with change and is apprehensive of new situations.  Although caution with new situations is common to see in children Luke's age, he is hyper vigilant for his age, which is impacting his function in various environments, particularly with food selection."

Like mother, like son.

When John came home, I cried and cried.  Reading it, I said, "Sound familiar?  Sound familiar?"

People have a hard time believing it, but really, I am a hermit.

I am.

I am not a fan of new situations, I very much dislike change and am often hyper vigilant in far more situations than I should be.

I choose to be a 'people person.'  While being a social butterfly used to be my natural inclination, as I've gotten older, I have become far more introverted.  After we lost Matthew, my desire for that introversion grew stronger and stronger and to this day, is always my first instinct.

It's cuhhhh-raaazzy how much we pass to our children.

Obviously, I know I can't change wiring.  Further, I know his anxiety about things is not just from his mommy.  Daddy's side of the family has it's fair share of anxiety, and frankly, we are ALL pretty successful and functional adults!

I'm certainly not worried about Luke having social anxiety issues (he goes outside, hears neighborhood kids playing and says, "Kids? Kids??"...and he's starting to play with kids more at school than play alongside them).  When he goes to school or church, after the obligatory, "Mama, I miss you!" he's fine.  When I go to pick him up, actually, he throws a fit!  He doesn't WANT to leave!

While he may not like change or new situations, he very, very quickly eases into them and warms up well, so, like his mama, he chooses to bloom where he's planted regardless.

I'm thankful.

I just hate that some of the things I've battled with in life seem to already be manifesting in such a baby.

He's so little still.

I'm keeping a detailed log the food he eats.  It's ridiculous.

Thank God for whole milk, dairy and good supplements is all I have to say.

Sigh.

ADORABLE GIVEAWAY!

It is no secret that I am blessed with some amazing, talented and generous friends.

I mean, REALLY talented and REALLY generous and REALLY amazing.

So, I am super excited to have another giveaway from my friend Karie at Two Kwik Quilters.  She has designed and custom makes the most ADORABLE things and she has generously offered to giveaway a custom apron and hat set!

Now, I'll be honest, Luke pretty much gives me flack on putting just about anything on him and God help if I entertain the thought of a hat (without a mega-bribe of TWO skittles!).  That said, I know this phase will not last forever, and I'll be doing all I can to entice him to wear this set because it is SO flipping cute!  He loves dinosaurs ("Rawwwrrr") and he loves snakes ("ssssss") even if snakes make his Mama's heart fall to her toes.  He played with the set for a good while, but the hat?  Yeah, well, the following is the best I could get!

Yes, this cost me two skittles AND a piece of candy cane, but SOOOO cute!

The adorable reverse side!

The entry chances are below and hopefully pretty easy (first time using Rafflecopter!).  Karie can do all sorts of stuff.  Today she told me that she did one that was more 'girly' on one side and 'boyish' on the other so when mom was cooking with one child for special time together, they could choose the appropriate side!  Brilliant!  I hope that whoever wins sends me a picture of their cutie wearing the set!!!!


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Winner!

The Kyrgyzstan Christmas Challenge is over, but money keeps coming and can CERTAINLY be used!  Thank you, thank you, thank you to all who donated in Matthew's memory!  The $500 for my part was raised, and John and Luke will be 'pieing' me as a result.  Oy.  All worth it, though!

Luke drew the winner of the awesome cosmetic bag from my precious friend at Two Kwik Quilters, and it was another sweet friend, Erin!

Believe it or not, a year ago, Luke drew Erin's name for last year's giveaway!  I think he's sweet on her!  I don't blame him, though, because she IS sweet, and I couldn't be happier that she won.  Again.

Wildman's hair...and yes, that is Thomas on tv in the background.  Luke is on an anti-daddy kick, so whatever gets him to spend some time with Daddy....the boy loves trains!!!

Another sweet friend, Rhonda, is sponsoring a Scentsy party online—and 100% of the proceeds (ALL of them, folks!) will go to the orphanages in Kyrgyzstan!  Please consider going here if you are in the Scentsy market for the holidays...it was a very generous offer on her part and as always, I am just humbled at how supportive people are of us.

Thank you friends.  

There's a lot going on and it's a tough but beautiful time of year, so my emotions are up, down, left and right.

But I'm grateful for so much.  Thank you.

More giveaways to come...I always have believed it's more fun to give than to receive.  I am SO excited about the upcoming one.  Get ready...it's CUTE, CUTE, CUTE!!!

Congrats again, sweet Erin!  Enjoy your bag!