all mine

"Mine."  Definitey a favorite word around here. And lucky for me, that boy is mine.  He is mine!

we laughed so hard

Can't you just hear the cheeeeeezzzzeeee coming out of him?

We sat down for dinner, when Kaden realized that I had brought him the wrong fork.

"Mom, I need you to get me the other one."

"You aren't getting anything when you talk to me like that. 

Besides, Kaden, that one is fine.  I am not your slave and if you

 want another one you can get it yourself."

"Well Mama, are you your own slave?"

"No, Daddy is my slave.  I sit all day and order people around."

Matt: "Yeah, Mommy is the princess so we are all her slaves."

I guess you can't be sarcastic with a 5-year-old, especially

when he is tired.  I saw the tears welling up in his eyes and when

I asked what was wrong he very emotionally said,

"I don't have a slaaaavvveee.  I wish I had my own slave..." and burst into tears.

It probably shouldn't have been as funny as it was but Matt and I cracked up and laughed for a good couple of minutes, only making Kaden even more sad. We just couldn't stop! When we finally pulled it together and could talk without giggling, we had to have a conversation about what slaves are, and how we really don't have our own.  We do things for ourselves and help each other out, but we don't have slaves and don't expect other people to do everything for us.

Oh, and I found Kaden's twin!

i could just kiss you all

Wow.  So I wrote this post mostly out of complete frustration. I was actually ticked off when I wrote it.  Maybe I was feeling a little sorry for myself.  Feeling like a lost cause and really annoyed.

Then, the emails poured in, facebook messages, and sweet comments.  I am completely overwhelmed by the caring of my family, friends, and even people I don't know.  I feel so loved and I cannot express my gratitude for every one's thoughts.  I reread my post and the messages and just cried.  It really means something to feel validated, even though that was absolutely not what I was looking for.  I spend so much time irritated with myself and feeling like I should just be able to suck it up, it felt so good to know that other people have felt and do feel this way, that it isn't normal, and that maybe I am doing the best I can with what I have.  The ideas and heartfelt concern gave me renewed determination and for that I am so grateful.

I wish I could thank each one of you, but know that I am truly appreciative.  Know that my spirits were lifted more than I can say.  Thank you, thank you, thank you!

And I had to include a few pictures of another gorgeous sunset. The night sky looked like it was on fire.  I might have a little bit of an obsession with the sky.  It is incredible!

monkey boy

The other day Beckham absolutely refused to let me change him out of his jammies.  He was so happy when I just changed his diaper and let him wear his "monty jammies" all day long.  He also put his hat on and wore it all day.  He carried Money around, all day.  He's a funny, very particular, little one.

this plea is for real

I am not really sure if anyone even reads my blog anymore.  It's totally okay; I have turned it into my own thing, what I want, and don't even think about what people might want to see or to read.  I used to be careful about how much text I put in a post, afraid people might get bored. I tried to be choosy with pictures.  Now, I just say what I want, when I want.  I may tend to over share sometimes.  Anyway, that actually has nothing to do with this post, really. I am just asking for input from anyone, if anyone even reads.

I am so tired. SO tired. At the risk of sounding overly dramatic, I will just say that I think it is abnormal to feel like I do.  At the risk of sounding overly dramatic I would say it is definitely one of, if not my biggest, trial in life. I am serious. I know I am a young mom chasing little boys, but I am so tired.  I have been since 8th grade.  I remember just yearning to take a nap in the darkroom during my photography class when I was a sophomore in high school.  Some days walking to a college class I would see an inviting piece of grass in the sunshine and wish that I could just collapse and take a nap.  I left classes all.of.the.time. because my notes were sloppy and illegible and I felt rude that I was trying so hard to keep my eyes open that there was no way I was learning a darn thing.  I can rarely sit and read a book without feeling drowsy within minutes.  I could fall asleep at a stoplight, no joke.  I get easily overwhelmed with the difficult stuff of course, but even the tiniest little things can completely overwhelm me. Just thinking about what needs to be done, something that stressed me out, etc. drains all of my energy and I feel like I just can't do it.

I am embarrassed to say that I have actually nodded off, while giving a massage.  Road trips are nearly torture.  I don't even know if I should admit how much caffeine it takes to get me through a seven hour drive.  It is absolutely ridiculous.  I have to take in so much artificial energy that I can't sleep at night and feel hungover for days. 

It isn't just the boring, menial, monotonous, or stressful things that make me tired.  I can be on the mountain snowboarding, cold wind on my face, having an amazing time, and still feel exhausted. I sit on the chairlift wishing to just rest.  I'm really not trying to feel sorry for myself. I really try hard to do what I have to do.  I make myself when I have to.  I just wish I had an answer.

I have tried everything I can think of.  It doesn't seem to matter how much or how little sleep I get.  My diet doesn't seem to play a significant role. I take thyroid medication, which should help.  It isn't a depression issue.  I exercise regularly, which I think helps a little, but it definitely doesn't do a whole lot for this problem.  Interestingly, the most energy I've had was right after my kids were born.  Isn't that supposed to be when I am most tired? Maybe it's a hormone thing...

I know this might sound so whiny and pathetic but I feel at my wit's end. I get so angry with myself because I feel lazy.  I feel too tired to tackle a dirty floor, or the pile of laundry on my bed.  I feel too tired to do more than 20% of my to do list. I feel too tired to play with my kids, the way I really want to play with them.  I feel grumpy, easily irritated and overwhelmed.  The tiredness I feel is hard to explain and I really wish I could explain it.  It's more than just being sleepy.  I feel exhausted mentally, physically, even emotionally. 

On the rare occasion that I do have energy and feel actually AWAKE, I feel incredible. I feel like I can get so much accomplished and love what I am doing. I am active with my kids, I get meals cooked, my house is clean, I feel so much more balanced and happy.  I wish there was some miracle fix, because believe me I would try it.  I am still trying to figure it out.  I am trying really hard not to completely beat myself up, while at the same time trying to push myself to do something, anything, even if  "I can't" is running through my mind every second.

So, if anyone is reading this, has anyone experienced this? Do you know anyone who has?  Do you have any solutions or ideas? I don't care how ridiculous....I will do pretty much anything!   For now, I am trying to fake it 'til I make it.

moody sky

We get some pretty amazing sunsets.  Taken right off of the back deck (all in camera; no editing):

smiley eyes

I will never be able to get enough of this boy's smiley eyes.  His face is so animated 100% of the time.  It has been since the day he was born.  No matter if he is happy, excited, sad, mad, telling a story, etc. He has a recent thing of getting a very serious look and raising and lowering his brows, while looking up to whoever he is talking to as he tells a story.  It's so funny and I hope he doesn't grow out of that one anytime soon.  He is one animated little man; he twinkles. He is sunshine. 

And, a few of my recent favorite things he's said:
Hey Mama, do you know what chief means?...It means boss.  So now I am going to call you Chief.  Chief Boss.

One afternoon Beckham was still napping after almost 4 hours:
Mama, Beckham is STILL sleeping. I just think that is positively outrageous!

The other night saying the prayer on dinner:
Please bless our food to make us strange and nurshment.

He is such a sweet and tenderhearted little guy.  Today, talking about our sweet friend's son down the street. :
Hey Mama, you know why Michael has to be in a wheelchair now? It's cause his bones don't work right.  And his muscles don't work right.  I think that is just so sad that those two things don't work right.  He is happy and he is my friend.  At least he can ride around in his cool wheelchair. I bet that is fun.  I still feel sad about that though.  I am thankful my bones and muscles work right.



knight in shining armor

I know I have written about my dad before, calling him my hero.  He really is.  He is my knight in shining armor and has saved me countless times.  He will absolutely, without question, go out of his way to help me, us, in any way he can.  He will put his own agenda aside, his own aches and pains, to come to our rescue.  He will stop by our house at the end of a long work day to do more work.  I never expect this of him, I never pressure him, but he feels the need to be here for us instantly. I appreciate him so much.  I've come home numerous times on snowy days to find my driveway blown and my walk shoveled.  He's fixed my sprinklers countless times, he's taken my car to and from the shop or fixed it himself, he's built things, fixed our dryer, vacuum, plumbing, snow blower, etc.  He has excavated our yard, built our deck,  and done anything and everything I have ever needed.  He never lets me pay him back for a thing, despite my arguing.  He is a magician.  He is a wizard.  He is smart and knows everything. I don't just say that because he is my dad; he really does know absolutely everything.

He adores my kids.  It is cute to see a soft side to him when he interacts with them.  They love their Papa.  He brings jelly bellies in his suit pockets every Sunday at church.  It is like a  treasure hunt for the kids.  They climb all over him and dig through his pockets.  The boys always run to him when he stops by to see us. Kaden loves to pal around with Papa, "helping" him fix things and build things.

 He has sort of a gruff exterior with a dry sense of humor. I know he is very sensitive and sweet, even if he doesn't always seem that way.  He is so sensitive and sweet.  I've seen him get teary and emotional many times when listening to the testimony of his children, reading a sweet card, or having a heartfelt conversation.  I love his big warm hugs.  He cares about his family more than anything in the world, and would do anything for any one of us. When my grandma was sick he was at her house with my mom countless times to do something to make life a little easier for her.  He treated her as his very own mom.  He drove all of the way to Utah to give Matt a blessing he requested while in the hospital.  He has always been the hardest worker I know, and he does it all for us.  I am so grateful to have him as my dad.

will it make him smarter?

I dont' know, but it sure does make him happy. This kid loves Baby Einstein.  LOVES it.  I couldn't tear his attention away for anything.

And apparently, he also thinks it's hilarious. Oh, and his double chin is awesome.

winter

Two days ago our grass was green. I have quite enjoyed the dry time, but have wondered if winter would show up.  We have had about 4 inches total snow all winter.  Then, it snowed!  Kaden and I made a snowman.  It's already melted quite a bit, but it is supposed to snow again this weekend.  I love winter, I actually love snow, and one of my favorite things about living here is experiencing all four seasons fully, dramatically, and in their entirety.  I just need the sun to shine 90% of the time.

I love taking the kids on walks, pulling them on the sled. I love building forts, hearing the snow crunch under my feet, curling up on the couch with a blanket to read stories.  I love scarves and coats and boots. I love hot cider, soup, and homemade bread.  Those things are more delicious and exciting when it's freezing. Winter just tends to last a little too long around here, usually.  This year might end up being just right.

and now he's 4

What is it about giving a little boy a haircut that makes him look so much older?  It was due time for Beckham to have his hair cut.  After the last time, which was traumatic for both of us, I thought he might end up looking like Rapunzel before I got the courage to try it again. I really was just waiting for the police to show up he was screaming so loud.  It was terrible!  I even had everything I could think of to distract him.  This time, I must have thought of the right things.  I gave him a little bag of skittles, put him in a booster seat and sat him in the living room with his favorite tv show on.  He takes forever to eat, even candy, so he savored every little skittle and they lasted the entire time.  He didn't put up a fuss at all, until the very end when he had hair in his eyes. I actually really loved his hair long. I love the color and texture.  It's so thick and soft.  It looks adorable when it lays right.  That was the problem.  It was never laying right.  He had bedhead every morning which was hard to tame, and if I didn't have time to fix it, it stayed that way.  I love the short hair too, and cut it extra short just because I wasn't sure how long we'd have to go between cuts.  Maybe we are on to something here.  He looks so handsome.

See what I mean? These pictures were taken 1 day apart.  He looks a whole year older.

then it was his turn

Last night this little man got to spend the night in our bed.  We really don't make a habit out of this, but I am not opposed to embracing a good reason.  As Matt and I were about to head to bed, Kaden was crying.  I could tell he was hurting.  He limped his way out to the living room.  Growing pains.  I remember getting these regularly all through my childhood. I remember the aching the tightness, and the pain that just would not go away.  I remember waking my mom up in the wee hours of the morning, cuddling up on the couch with her while she rubbed my sore legs.  I remember feeling so loved and cared for.  Last night I stayed up for a long time rubbing my boys tight, hurting legs.  He asked through quiet tears, "Mama, how come it hurts so much? Why do my muscles hurt to grow?" I don't know if it even is a growing thing.  It might be a mineral or electrolyte imbalance. I wish I knew a solution because I know just how he feels.  We heated up my rice bag and wrapped it around him.  I brought him to bed with me to cuddle.  He finally seemed to feel relief and looked exhausted.  I read while he fell asleep.  It was so nice to have him there, quiet and still.  Kaden is hardly ever quiet and still.  He didn't thrash around and tunnel through our covers.  He didn't kick and take over the bed.  He was still and quiet and I relished in those moments.  Poor little guy is probably going to have a lot of nights like this. 

pretty

I got a new lens for Christmas.  I still have to figure it out, but I am digging it.  The pictures look SO much better big.  I need to take the time to figure out how to change my blog. I want it plain. I want the pictures to be big.  I want to get rid of all the extra stuff.  I wish I wasn't lazy.  Anyone have any ideas?  I like things that are easy and quick.  Does that even exist?

love bug

It's no secret that this boy has a mind of his own.  He is probably exactly what they talk about when referring to 2-year-olds.  The sweetest, cutest, most fun people on earth, and the scariest.  He is a master temper-tantrum-thrower.  A master.  He knows how to get my blood pressure rising and my patience to nill almost instantly.  It's so frustrating for both of us.  He clearly knows exactly what he wants, and I clearly cannot figure it out.  I can only imagine how that must feel.  I wish I knew the solution. His physical therapist and I have discussed that it is probably his need for a little control, even subconsciously.  He's had so much done for him and to him and he needs to feel like he has a say in things.I feel like I have tried everything under the sun, but when it comes down to it, when he is mad about something he is going to scream it to the world.  I hope that it is just a normal 2-year-old phase and not indicative of his behaviour through life.

He is the sweetest, cuddliest boy.  He is happy a majority of the time.  He is talkative and animated. He is going through a mommy phase right now and does not want to be left anywhere, with anyone.  He just wants me.  He says "mommy hold you?" throughout the day and there is nothing I love more than a snuggle with him.  He doesn't like a crowd.  He had no interest in opening his Christmas presents in front of everyone.  He has no interest in being in the group.  He is his own little guy and I am figuring that out more and more all of the time.  I love that he is his own unique little person. It's so interesting having two completely different little people living here and constantly trying to figure out what works with each one.  It's a puzzle. 

Last night, when Matt and I were about to go to bed, I crept down the hall to check on the boys, like I always do. I slowly opened the door.  It only opened about a foot before it was stuck. I squeezed in and saw my sweet little boy, curled up by the door, a toy in each hand, fast asleep.  He was so adorable, sweet, and innocent.  I scooped him up and my heart was bursting with love.  He smelled so clean and fresh and I couldn't put him in his bed.  I carried him into our room and laid him down in our bed.  I smelled his hair and kissed his chubby cheeks over and over.  I held his soft little hands.  I cuddled with that boy all night and woke up to him climbing all over me.  I know I can't do this every night, but last night it was perfect.  He is perfect.

a rare and special bond

Kaden is absolutely in love with his Nana.  He has a special bond with her that I just can't describe.  It makes me so happy.  The boys get to spend the night with Nana and Papa sometimes. It's a special treat for them.  Every day that I am working and I take the boys to my mom, Kaden asks if he gets to spend the night.  If I say no, which I usually do, he says, "ahhh, Mama, I just really wish I could stay at Nana's house."  He gets so excited when he sees me packing his special blanky and "glowman" in his little suitcase.  It means he gets to go live with Nana and Papa for a few days, and what could be better than that? I think he would move there if given the chance.  Even my little Beckham, who hates having his routine disrupted, hates being separated from his mama, and isn't the most social little guy, absolutely loves being at Nana and Papa's house.

I love that when I am working and the boys are with my mom they are having fun.  They are going on hikes, throwing rocks in the water, taking bubble baths, reading stories, planting flowers, watering grass, going on wagon rides, making snow angels, and that they are being loved and cared for, just as I would love and care for them--and maybe even better.  They feel safe and that puts my heart at ease.  I would love to be able to quit working tomorrow, to be able to stay home with my kids until they are older, but that isn't an option for me.  I feel so blessed and comfortable, knowing that they are in the next best place.  They are happy, cared for, loved, cuddled, and even scolded when needed.  They aren't suffering one bit.  In fact, I think that the time they spend with my mom, and dad too, is a huge blessing of our situation.  It is a blessing to my boys to learn from their Nana and Papa, and to have different experiences.  They get to grow up knowing them and creating memories with them. I know they will look back on these years as priceless.  I know it is helping to mold who they become later, all for the better.  It is a blessing for my parents too.  My mom is a saint and has those boys 3 days a week on most weeks.  She never complains even though sometimes I know she is tired or maybe wishes she could have a day to herself.  The bond my boys have with their Nana is something rare and very, very special, and I am so grateful.

rub-a-dub-dub

 Bath time is definitely a favorite around here.  It's a crazy splashing fiasco.  The laughter is equal to the tidal waves erupting from the tub.  The rascals must be forced out when the water is nearly cold.  Getting clean has never been so fun.

And let's just take a moment to recognize that this kid isn't little anymore.  Look at those muscles.  He's pretty proud of them, too.