40 Bags in 40 Days Challenge SURPRISE!

#40bagsin40days

I found out something surprising about myself, and it's only Day 1.

I read about this challenge yesterday and I was inspired. Click on the link above to go and see the full blog posts from White House Black Shutters. As lent approaches, or for most it is already here, there will be Facebook posts flooded with sacrificial fasting. Some give up sugar, or soda, or fast food. Some give up spending, or cable, or internet. While I'm not Catholic, and therefore lent doesn't mean the same to me as others, I do like to participate in it. Fasting is a part of my personal walk with God and from time to time I will fast different things. In January this past year, I fasted FB and found out some things about myself in the process. Another blog post for another time, I'm sure. 

I read about this challenge yesterday and felt inspired to spend 2 hours cleaning out the toy room. I printed out the worksheet on the blog page last night and my first attempt was written in pen. BIG MISTAKE!! I went through, expecting each room to take a day, until I focused yesterday on one room. I realized I would need maybe two or more days to go through and purge the truck load of toys we currently have. I reprinted the worksheet and then filled it out in pencil. Lesson learned.

 As I was going through toys yesterday, I realized how much the kids had. I became disgusted with myself for buying them so much. How can I talk about living on less, when I have filled their toy room with things? What was my reasoning? Why would I do this? Then I realized something about myself, that surprised me as to why we had this crazy ridiculous amount of toys. It struck me so fully that I had to stop cleaning. 

When we were going through fertility treatments to have a second baby, I refused the get rid of things. Baby toys, rattles and the like became sacred to me, a thousand tiny idols that I wanted near me just in case. "If I throw them out or sell them, it means I'm giving up. It means I am not trusting." This became my battle cry. Not trust in Lord with all thine heart and lean not to thine own understanding, but let me pile our toy room with stuff, line our shelves with stuffies and Barbies and trucks, so that God will know I'm serious about another kid. As if some how this meant I was more serious than the daily prayers I sent up, or the tears I cried, or the thoughts I focused on or the bible verses I memorized. This, TOYS, made me serious about my miracle. Do I fault those who buy clothes or bassinets in great hopes of a baby? Of course not. I bought a white bassinet when we were going through treatments and 3 years later, I laid my son down in it on his first night home. I sobbed the "ugly cry" as I laid him down, knowing that I had bought this in anticipation of this moment. It was a miracle come full circle. But toys? Buying three drum sets to prove I was serious? Obviously God needed three, because one wouldn't cut it. I just had to buy every single Little People play set Target and Toys R Us had, because this proved I was worthy of child. I need that extra xylophone or cooking set, because good mothers had them. "I'm a good mom God, please grant me a child!" Halfway through cleaning, when this realization came upon me, I had to laugh at myself. 

Look I get it, I truly do. When you are reeling from your second miscarriage, when the doctor tells you there is nothing more he can do, when you don't have the money to adopt, clinging to something like a third drum set or a stuffed toy that says Baby on it, is what we do. Those of us who suffer this way, cling to anything that may bring us luck or favor. We want a baby so badly, that it doesn't seem strange at the time. That is until you are cleaning out your toy room and the realization of what you did without knowing it comes. 

Then you laugh. 

Because it is funny.

Because it is ridiculous and you know it.

Because you have come out on the other side stronger. 

I will always carry with me the remembrance of my desperation in those days. I will always be empathetic to those struggling with infertility. There is no wrong way to go through the journey, there is only your way. You do what you have to, you survive how you need to, so if that means three drum sets, 14 stuffies with the word Baby on them, and plethora of assorted baby rattles, then so be. I needed those things to get through to the next day, the next ultrasound, the next doctor's visit, the next blood work. Now though, as with all fasting, comes an awakening. I need to get them out, to purge them and to trust God with other things. This is how we grow spiritually when we fast. 

It's strange to think that I would be here, be in this position to actually laugh at my own silliness. I now look at the trash bags of things with new eyes. I understand myself better because of this first day of lent. It is surprising to me, that a challenge such as this, would help me to understand a part of myself I thought I had fully understood. I see a level, a layer to myself that I didn't know had existed before. It's kinda funny to think that going through a toy room would bring this level of awareness to the fore front, but it has. 

And I praise God for that. 

Mama Jelly

 **** I am not laughing at, or downplaying anyone going through this now. If you are in throws of infertility, let me say, I applaud your strength, I can sympathize with your struggles and I fully offer my door to stay open if you ever want to talk. 1 in 7 couples in the US will go through this heartbreaking journey, just know, that you aren't going through it alone. 

Camping, bunk beds, and American Heritage Girls

"Bunk beds are cool. It's a bed.......... With a ladder!" 

The Doctor

The gorgeous Hill Country of Texas was the backdrop to our lovely weekend. 

What do you get when you take a grown women, who has never camped, and throw her in the woods with 17 little girls to help watch over? Craziness and learning and a side of humor.

This past weekend, Miss A and I headed out into the wildness that is the Texas Hill Country with around 100 other girls ranging in ages from 6 to 18. Miss A is in her second year of American Heritage Girls and is currently a Tenderheart.. If you have never heard of AHG (American Heritage Girls will be referred to as AHG in the rest of the post. This is mainly because I'm lazy and I love a good acronym) don't worry, while this scouting group is fairly "new" on the block of girl groups who scout, it has been around for a few years. I will say here, that we were roughing it. Yes we stayed in cabins, with indoor plumbing, and amazing bunk beds, but there were 17 little girls ages 6/7/8 and 6 adults in one cabin. Learning to navigate girl drama, we parent's are now pros. 

A brief Background

AHG was started in 1995 by a group of parents in one mom's kitchen in Ohio. This pioneer mama wanted a character building scouting group that meshed Christian values and ideals while also incorporating learning in areas of outdoor skills, exploration, science, home skills and many others. She also wanted her young girls to be positively influenced by girls of all ages and by grown adults while keeping a sense of family traditions alive. Many AHG troops are run different ways, but at their core, they are a Christian focused group. The girls are not asked to sign any form of statement of faith, but may earn badges relative to their own denominations. Most AHG groups are chartered by a home church. AHG is perfect for our family and many others, to the tune of 20,000+ girls in 48 states and 7 countries. Everyday, an AHG troop springs up somewhere and it's membership has increased by over 50% each year since 1995.  American Heritage Girls is a nonprofit organization dedicated to the mission of building women of integrity through service to God, family, community and country.(from website)  For more information on AHG and find a troop near you, check out the website. http://ahgonline.org/pages/page.asp?page_id=20600

Camping and bunk beds

In December, we were told at a parent informational meeting that there would be the first ever South Texas Winter Camp. I'm going to be blatantly honest here and say, I am not what some most anyone-who-has-ever-met-me would call a "camper". I enjoy a good sporting section in Target and I will eat food on patios, but that is about the extent of my camping experience. My daughter, my free spirit, thinks camping is amazing. She enjoys the outdoors, hikes, nature study, leaf identification. Pretty much, if it can be done outside and possibly involves digging in dirt, sign her up. So naturally, when she heard that there was camping she was excited but then she heard that it was cabins and she was thrilled. 

"We can go mom, ya know, since we don't have a tent." 

So all month and into January, I listened to random songs about camping, sat through excited diatribes about what animals we would see, and estimates of how many smores she could stuff in her face. She happily read off the camping list, gathered her things, and packed her own part of the bag. We made matching t-shirts with the AHG creed on them and away we went into the Texas Hill Country. She was thrilled about sleeping in a bunk bed, I was thrilled that cougars were not as hungry in January as in the spring.  

As we arrived, checked in and unloaded, she was found happily making her bunk up. Miss A looked down at me at one point and exclaimed:

"Mom!! This is so cool! Bunk beds are cool. It's a bed............. with a ladder." 

All my Whovian friends out there will recognized the reference and then exclaim themselves "best moment ever!" I would have to agree with you, of course. 

After a dinner, which put the girls into the cabin groups they would be in, going over rules, and the buddy system, was prayers and a progressive story told by flashlight under chins, it was lights out. That was at 9pm. However, the girls were much too excited to sleep and around 2am most fell asleep. The rest took until 3am and everyone was promptly awake at 6:30am, a whole 15 min before the wake up alarm call. Opening Ceremony was at 7:15am.

Between learning about insects, making old magazines into new paper, making beaded jewlery, silk screen, PE, a hike, a map reading and knot tying demo and three meals, the girls were tired but loving and soaking up every single minute. This is what I have truly come to love about AHG. Camping with girls is hard, especially little girls, but the program has some amazing badges and the learning is just awesome. We honestly do reading, math and AHG in the summer, because to earn a badge takes several steps. For instance, Miss A had to make a correct map of her neighborhood, mark North, South, East, West, learn to read a compass and use it for direction to earn her orienteering badge. This is why AHG just rocks for our family. The badges earned are for real world as well as outdoor stuff. There are also service stars, as each girl has to do a set number of service hours in the community to earn a star yearly. There is also patches which are earned for things like father/ daughter BBQ's, mother/daughter teas, participating in Scout Sunday and National Day of Service among others. We ended the jam packed day, around the campfire while the girls preformed skits and ate smores. 

We did wind up leaving a whole day early, but that was because, if you are from South Texas and Mountain Cedar doesn't bother you, you are not from this planet. We happened to camp in the gorgeous Hill Country in Texas where the views are beautiful year round, but also happen to be in the middle of a Mountain Cedar forest. Miss A's allergies went haywire and she ended up miserable being outside all day in the woods and was seen by the onsite Doctor. He suggested taking her home to just get her out of it. Of course she was terribly disappointed and cried all the way home. Which in turn broke my heart. 

Camping? Again?

Our experience was so positive that yes, we will be camping again. I really want Miss A to love the outdoors and learn how to build fires and identify plants and animals as well as make crafts. I want her to feel as comfortable camping, as she does in our church volunteering. I also want her to understand the impact of a community that serves each other. These values are what I strive to provide for her all the while she is making lasting, lifelong friendships. There is another family camp coming up in the spring, and Miss A and I will gladly go.

 I can't wait to pack our sleeping bags, grab our solar lantern and go out and discover the world. 

Together. 

Mother and daughter.

Learning side by side.

Growing,  in both our faith in God by the beauty we will be surrounded by, but also by the lessons we both will learn. 

 Now for some pictures from our weekend. Enjoy

Miss A and I in our handmade shirts.

Recycled paper making.

screen printing

The girls asking great questions about boat safety.

Learning how to correctly identify and put on a flotation device. 

Miss A in her bed with a ladder, hugging her solar lantern, happy as a clam. 

Mama Jelly

Peanut Butter Reboot

(Picture http://www.hdwallpapersimages.com/new-year-2014-gifts/16984/)

re·boot

 [v. ree-boot; n. ree-boot, ree-boot] Computers.

verb (used with object)

1.

to restart (a computer) by loading the operating system; boot again.

verb (used without object)

2.

(of a computer) to be restarted.

noun

3.

an act or instance of restarting a computer.

While the act of rebooting is clearly an IT term, in this little blog, it means a fresh start. I started off last year with big plans, but somewhere between January and December, I found that keeping up with a blog is so very difficult and time consuming. See, I tried to start out as some sort of thousand reader blog, when in reality, My mom and my husband read my blog. And only when I remember to tell them I have written something. 

I have taken the last year to really read up on how to run an effective blog and how to write and how to network and what to do and defiantly the thousands of others posts on what NOT to do, and so on. It has always been my intention, however, to be authentic. I really don't want to be yet another homeschool/crafting/mommy blog. Those are needed and great and have created their niche market without my adding to it. I want to blog about our daily happenings and possibly our silliness and occasionally our messiness. I want a running, year long, single view of our little family, and if no one ever reads these words but my mother and husband and myself, well that's just fine. One day, when my children are grown, I'd love to pull up this little nothing blog and show my them my words when I had things on my heart that needed to be said but I couldn't get passed my lips. I want them to read the words and hear my voice, see my struggles, read about times when I was unsure. I want them to read about what I thought when events happened in our small little lives.

It really boils down to the fact, that I am there for these two kiddos. I am present for homeschool lessons and park days. I encourage, instruct, direct and discipline. But my children don't get to hear my inner dialog of self doubt when letting them fly. They don't get to share in the personal journey of being their mother, just the security of their mother loving them. I want them to one day read these words and think "I remember that but to hear my mom's thoughts puts a perspective on it I didn't understand until now." 

When I was a child, I was playing in mother's makeup and putting on her clothes and I found her diary from when she was a teenager. I remember reading the words she had written before I was even thought of and feeling the same things as her. I was 14 at the time and trying desperately to fit in and find my voice. I read her words and there was a comfort to them. A sort of written confirmation that the amazing women who was raising me, was once unsure of herself, just like me. I read about a girl who had crushes and who lacked self esteem, just like me.  I read about a girl who wanted to be something before she had become something. 

It was awe-inspiring. 

It was chilling.

It was amazing.

To read her words, felt to me, that I had stepped into a world so like my own yet still different. It helped me realize that my mother was once a little struggling girl. It was the moment it sank in that she was ever my age, since before that, I had convinced myself she was born a women in a business suit who worked hard. It was the best book I had ever read. It was her words, her thoughts, her struggles that made mine seem similar. 

And I want that for my children.

I want them to read this blog and hear me, hear my words. 

I am not a big "New Year's Resolution" person. I am kinda lazy in that regard, as I think about making a list but never actually get around to putting the list to paper. This year is different. This year, I have had some time to really look at what I want to reboot in 2014. Through prayer and meditation, I come to realize that 4 areas of my life can be improved upon. These areas aren't broken or downtrodden, but as in all things, we can't be stagnant when it comes to ourselves. Continuously moving forward, ever evolving, changing, bettering ourselves is what keeps us fresh and alive. A New Year is full with so many opportunities to be a little bit better. For us to change things and reboot others. This year the 4 areas of rebooting are, in no particular order:

Family (being more present, more active, more involved with both my children and my husband)

Spiritual (drawing closer to God as a women, married couple, and family)

Health (Not only eating right and exercising but taking time to be still and meditate)

Education (learning, discovering, reading and building on my own knowledge base)

I'm praying that this blog helps to keep me accountable when it comes to these four areas. In the coming days and after the first of the year, I will be putting up links with these to help those who want to read (mom and Big B, this means you) to get to the blog posts faster. 

I also am praying that my voice in the blogsphere is authentic and uniquely my own. 

Happy New Year and welcome to the Reboot

Mama Jelly  

Just a little Sign, Please



 

When he signs "Love you" it's always to his sister, but this morning, it was to me, mom. My heart melted even if he did sign "Love you" while I'm changing a diaper.

 

 

When that perfect little bundle is handed to you and you stare down at those little eyes, that little nose, it doesn't matter who you are because suddenly that child in your arms is the most beautiful creature you have ever seen. To a mom, it doesn't matter if your little one is a boy, a girl, has Down Syndrome, is born with extra toes, born with sight problems, or is missing a limb. That child, resting in your arms is the most beautiful baby that has ever been born at that moment. Period. And you will protect, fight and love that baby with every thing inside you.

 

To most moms, especially NICU moms, that moment you lock them in the car seat to go home is the most joyous. You are now on your own after weeks or months in the NICU, to love and live with this tiny bundle entrusted to you. My Facebook post on the day we brought Bryce home after spending time in the NICU was:

 

"Ready......Set......GOOOOOOO!!! Here we go, all 4 of us are finally all together. Car seat locked in and off we go. Home."

 

From the time I was 17 weeks until Little B came at 34.2weeks, I fought to keep him in. I was on bed rest because of my high blood pressure and because Little B had tried to come as early as 21 weeks. I would lay around all day with a 4 year old active Miss A and try just to keep from having contractions. I remember one night, rushing the 25 minutes to the hospital, tears streaming down my face, praying to God "Please please not now!" I was having such strong contractions that I couldn't stand up, I couldn't breathe and they were coming every 2minutes. I was wheeled up to Labor and Delivery and when I saw the tiny NICU incubator and the 2 NICU nurses, I lost it. I was only 29 weeks, no this couldn't be happening. Thank goodness the doctor's controlled my labor and, after a 3 day stay on the L&D floor with meds pumping in my system, my contractions finally stopped. It would be 4 times total that I would be admitted and kept in L&D until finally, at 36 weeks, I was too far dilated to stop the labor safely. Little B was born with a hole in his lung called a Pneumothorax which caused his lungs to not inflate and my little man to struggle to breathe. After a CODE BLUE (where B stopped breathing altogether) and several very scary set backs, we were released from the NICU. We brought him into the doctor's office at 6weeks and had his hearing checked again, since he had failed both hearing tests in the NICU. He failed the one in the office as well. We were told he was very little and many times a NICU baby will fail a hearing test until they reach their gestational age. He would fail his hearing tests once more.

 

At 11months, thinking he had an ear infection, I took him into the office for a check up. He didn't have an ear infection, but the doctor noticed his ear canal was misshaped. He sent us home with instructions to see a specialist. The specialist would tell us that Little B was born with an "Organic Malformation" of his Ear drum and Ear canal. This means that when B was in utero, his ears didn't form right. We were told that he was deaf, that he would never talk. Big B and I were devastated. This was May of 2012.

 

How could we have a child who was deaf? How could that be? This wasn't in the plans. We had gotten pregnant with B without fertility drugs, without a doctor's help. that was a miracle since we were told we would not conceive without help and up until Little B, we hadn't. Then we dedicated Little B one year after we were told we would not conceive with IVF, to the month. Surely that was a sign, right? B was born is such a dramatic fashion, but he has never had breathing issues since, didn't need surgery and the hole closed so completely that the X-Ray Tech and the NICU doctor both had to make sure it was there to begin with. Surely that was God saying "I've got this Sticky Family". That HAD to be a sign, right? Deaf? Our baby boy was deaf? D-E-A-F! No, no NO...... clearly that had to be a mistake.

 

It wasn't. We spent the entire summer of 2012 talking to audiologists and speech therapists. We started getting services from Easter Seals and went to group play therapy. Our little man couldn't hear. As much as I would have liked to say " we took it all in stride" we didn't. Big B denied it because this was his little boy. I told only a handful of people because, right or wrong, I felt guilty for not being able to keep him in until the full 40 weeks. This was my fault, I just knew it. It wasn't my fault, it wasn't anyones fault.

 

By the time August came around I had absorbed myself in self pity long enough. I made one post on my Facebook page, telling all of our friends and family the news:

 

"After feeling sorry for myself for 3 months, I am finally done. Little B is deaf in his left ear and HOH in his right. We may have a child who can not hear, but his smile can light up a room."

 

The out poring of love from our family and friends was amazing. We had people getting us in contact with mother's here in our little part of Texas who were deaf or had hearing impaired kids. We had people who I knew had hearing problems calling and talking to us. I became closer to a women I know, who I now consider my "sounding board and helpful hints" in the deaf community. (Thank you Kimberly!!!) We had this amazing support system and we finally felt it okay to say the words "Special needs" without crying or feeling a choking since of anxiety.

 

It is now January 2013 and we have had so many amazing signs that our Little B is a true miracle. First is, we were told he was missing a a bone is his left ear. We had two scans confirming the missing bone, but after he was prayed for, the next scan showed a very underdeveloped hammer (the bone he was missing). The next came in speech. For months, Little B had made no oral sounds to try and speak, but more recently, he has made great strides. He now waves and says "I". He understands some simple commands and can sign up to 20 different signs. He is truly amazing, and we are no longer afraid to tell the world about our little boy.

 

Still, with all this wonderful strides he is making, I still worry. You see, this week is the week he gets his hearing aids. This week is the week we go and get those outward signs that says "something is wrong" to the world. As a logical person, I know that is really is needed and helpful and important, but as a mom.......... As a mom I am scared. Will people stare? Will they say something rude? Will they judge him? or worse feel sorry for him? Will kids make fun of him when he is a little older? Will he fit in? I'm scared. I'm nervous.

 

I know that once the aids go in, his speech will improve. I long to hear him say "Mom" just once. I will cry the day he does because I have waited so very long for him to say anything, but that word "mom"...... that is my dearest word. I can't wait to watch his face when has hears his sister's voice or when he hears music. I understand these aids are important, I get it. I'm just nervous. No parent wants their kid to be "different" even though each child brings with them a difference that is profound and all their own. Once he puts on the hearing aids, the world will know that he can not hear correctly without them. It's normal to feel apprehensive. It's okay to have these feelings. It's okay to feel unsure about the future. It's normal. Every mom or deaf person I have talked to has had these feelings or something similar, so I understand it's okay. I know that our little community of family and friends who love us will accept Little B no matter what he looks like, But the world can be cruel sometimes and I worry. 

 

He is my Little B, my little miracle, my little man. He is my child and I will fight and protect and love him. I will change him and tear up when he signs "Love You" and rejoice when he dances with his special headphones on made for HOH people. I love him because he is my baby. I thank God everyday for giving me him.

 

But I worry.

 

Mama Jelly 

 

 

 

Oragnization in the mist of paper confetti

Today I have a helper who is eager to learn all about organization. Okay, the truth is, if I get out my computer, Little B gets out his and then signs for me to "sit". He likes to work alongside mommy, but working is hard, so a snack is always needed.

 

 

Yesterday I sat down 4 times to write a blog post about organization and my quest to have a better organized home by the end of 2013. Each time I sat down, inevitably one or the other child would need something. At one point, I was doing the chores list I printed out. I was going along, checking off things and feeling accomplished. I was one proud peacock, until I turned the corner and saw that both kids had found the one confetti stick from New Year's Celebration at the Children's museum. For whatever reason I had put one of the confetti sticks, still full, into the diaper bag and carried it home. I'll stop here and mention that it never fails, my diaper bag is a variable "Mary Poppins" carpet bag. I promise, sometimes I pull out lamps and mirrors from the very bottom...... maybe even a potted plant or two.

 

I digress. One of the kids, the youngest dirtiest one, found this stick and was shaking it. A few pieces of tissue paper confetti came out. This prompted the other one, the larger less dirty one, to grab the stick and shake it hard. There was a loud POP and BAM! Confetti everywhere. Both kids thought this was a perfect way to spend a few minutes and proceeded to throw the confetti around. I, however, looked on my carefully thought out chores list for "clean up confetti", sadly it was on there. I think the original author is missing out on not cleaning up confetti. It wasn't until last night, when I, at 2:30am finally crawled into bed, found more confetti on my side of the bed. Apparently the stairs were not enough to contain this awesomeness, and one of the kids felt the need to stuff our covers with it. It was like a party happened in our bed and I was the last to arrive. Sigh.....

 

Anyway, what's the point of today's post? Organization? Oh yes, that's right. I was on my favorite site PINTEREST!!!! Pinterest oh how I heart thee.

 

I'm on Pinterest in preparation for my organizational trip this year. I stumbled across a few "Home Management" binders with free printables and great ideas. I started thinking "why yes, I do believe I can put together a home Management Binder". I came across a really great article on Money Saving Mama. she has several free printables to add to a home binder. I say, go check it all out and use what will work for you. Today, I'll walk you through my first few pages.

 

I mainly used this one site for the majority of my binder. This women makes organizational skills look effortless. I wonder if I should hire her to make me organized and therefore I will make it look easy? Hummmmm something to think about.

 

Anyway, the blog is called Organizing Homelife and she sure does. Here is the link to the beginning of her 31 Days of Home Management where she has all her printables for her binder. They all rock!!! Check out the link Here.

 

 

So to start, here is where I am at.

I used an old school binder from college way back when I went in 1778. It's the first binder ever made! LOL

 

 

So here I should mention that I am....... um thrifty? Okay, I'll admit it, I'm cheep. I didn't want to print out 365 pages of "daily chores" and "daily Plan of attacks" so I did what we do in homeschool. I made wipe offs the cheep way.

1 sheet of printed on paper

1 page protector

1 dry erase marker

 

TA-DA

(Jazz hands? Yes, I think it's warranted)

 

 I guess Little B either found the dry erase marker, or he has a plan of attack he wants known.

 

I printed out the "Plan of Attack" sheets from HERE in this LINK. I like these because it gives me a quick snippet of what the day will bring, what times things occur etc. Even having a place for me to plan out Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner. I know, I'm creative with my waffles and Leftovers.

 

These I covered in those page protectors and then, at the end of the week I just wipe it off and start over.

 

Money Saving Mom has a ton of Printables to choose from to make up what some Home Management binders may lack for you. While I mainly used one, I added some pages from here as well.

 

 

I am currently using her own cleaning list until I can come up with some of my own add ons. For now, she has a great stepping off point.

 

 

So there you have it, the start to my Home Management Binder. Tomorrow I'll show how I do my calendar, manage my blog ideas, and manage my ever growing to-do list.

 

Mama Jelly

 

 

 

 

 



A New Year, New Look

As the new year rolls in I find myself surrounded by all sorts of posts from family and friends. Some are stating that they will "finally" lose that weight they have kept on for forever. Some are stating they want a better 2013, since 2012 was too hard on them. Some are looking forward to snuggling close tiny new babies. Some are refusing to make a New Year's Resolution and are stating the fact, loudly. I like reading these for it puts into perspective my own flaws and bad points of character. My willingness to let things distract me, to persuade me to live "in the moment" with no real goal set in mind. While I pride myself on my ability to love my family,  I do not posses the qualities such as an organized home........ or homeschool..... or life, for that matter. I am more a "fly by the seat of my pants" girl than a well laid out plain mom. I wish I was better at being more thoughtful and driven to achieve certain goals. Every New Year starts out similar: I write down my goals on a lined piece of paper at about 11:00pm. I number them in importance and organize them by tasks. I pray over them and promise myself that I will accomplish these goals. Then comes New Year's Day and I wind up in my PJ's at 2pm, writing on a blog about how I'm going to change it up.

I am a huge believer that a relaxed atmosphere within a home leads to happy kids, happy wife, happy husband. While we have achieved that most ardently, we haven't quite grasped the task orientated life. You know, the one where the family lives, loves and prays with goals in mind and rejoices in the achievements of the family unit. Yeah..... we are not this family. It's funny really, since I homeschool and teach Sunday School,  that I could be as disorganized as I am. My family is always scrambling at the, last minute to get dressed for a play date, get a gift for a birthday party, or making sure we have all supplies for Sunday School. Even now, it's January 1st and I still have Christmas cards to mail out. **sigh** I can organize to a point but where I fall sort is my follow through. I get board and distracted and suddenly it's 2pm and the party is at 3 and we have nothing for the birthday kid. Or it's 9:15 and the play date is at 10am and we have just woken up.

Why am I confessing these weaknesses? Because the road to accountability starts with professing the things you are worst at. So here I am, New Years Day, still in PJ's typing out a blog post about getting organized this year while my printer prints out page after page for our family binder and homeschool workbooks. The only difference between this year and last is one simple thing. Instead of stating this to myself at home, quietly, I'm announcing it to the 5 people who subscribe but I'm sure haven't read the blog. A bit pessimistic but one of them is my mom. (Hi Mom!!! ::waves:: I'll call you today, I promise) I don't reach many people and that's okay, my voice is lost among the sea of better, bigger and more prepared blogs out there. One of my goals this year is to blog more. I feel it gives me an outlet to write things: my family, my thoughts, my failures (keep reading, I'm certain my failures will be funny, they usually are) and my weaknesses. Hummmmm I suppose I need an outlet for me, to speak what is on my mind and have no one read them. Yep, what a goal. (If you haven't noticed, I am a tad sarcastic. I like smiley faces and ........ and parentheses. Oh and the word "yep". Yep)

I suppose when a journey begins the most important part of that journey doesn't begin with the step itself, but in the picking up of the foot. So this is me, after a several month hiatus, picking up my foot to take a step forward into a year that promises to be glorious and amazing. But I am hesitant and scared. This year will also bring challenges that make me want to hide my head and pretend everything is just as wonderful as I proclaim it to be on my personal facebook page.

A recap of the last few months:

In August we got an official doctor's diagnoses on our little man. For months Big B and I  had noticed that Little B wouldn't respond to different sounds, like crashing of pots or loud fire trucks. He never startled, never go upset any loud noises, never turned his head. We began to wonder if it was us or something was wrong. After months of really wondering, we got the diagnosis that our Little B was deaf in one ear and HOH (hard of hearing) in the other. I would like to say that we took it all in stride and believed that everything we be okay. We did not. We denied it for a while and resolved to only tell a few people of the heartbreak of the diagnosis. I wish we could have said that we accepted it and started to work toward a brighter future for Little B. We did not. We were normal, average parents, we were  not super parents. We morned the loss of the child we dreamed him to be and prepared for the child God gave to us. We didn't smile and say "Thank you doctor" and run out and buy sign language books and join help centers for deaf children. No we acted as if the diagnosis didn't happen, that our son was perfectly fine and that he just needed to get a bit bigger, that somehow that would make him "grow out of it". By August, however, it was painfully obvious that he had a disability. I'll stop here and say that I have come to the realization that there are a few words I absolutely hate in the English language.

Here is a list;
Disability
Dumb
Special Needs
Stupid
Impaired


There are a few others, but they are so offensive, I won't write them. I never knew how strongly I would react to words spoken until Little B was diagnosed. Suddenly I feel like I am out to prove just how amazing he truly is. Once we did accept our diagnosis, things started falling into place. Little B will be fitted for a hearing aid here soon and will start attending a specialized school for the Deaf and hearing impaired. He is 18 months. He is amazing. While I'm scared for what the future holds, I am hopeful and excited to watch him learn and grow. I'm also excited to catalog this journey in our family blog and look back on December 31, 2013 and see how amazingly blessed we truly are.


We also started full time homeschooling. While, again, I'd like to say we have done well homeschooling, the truth is it's hard. Some weeks we didn't leave the house all week, we barely got dressed and don't even get me started on the state of my house cleaning. I became so overwhelmed and scared I was failing that I even filled out online the school paperwork. It wasn't until Miss A started American Heritage Girls that I meet other homeschool parents. We started going to PE with a COOP and started attending MNO with them. So now I feel I have an arsenal of moms who are "like me", who homeschool and get together and understand. Miss A is making friends and so am I. I never realized how isolating and hard homeschooling can be until now. Sure we socialize by going to the library and to playgroups, but when your little one is 18 months and your oldest one is 6, where do you fit in? Not in a traditional moms group where most of the kids are 3 and under. We are finally feeling like we are getting into a grove and we like it. Our homeschooling is becoming easier and less forced. Miss A is reading and enjoying school and I, for the first time, am enjoying just teaching and not trying to keep up with more experienced homeschoolers.


And just to add to the haphazardness of this little post, how about some pictures thrown in for good measure? Yes? Or should I say, Yep!

The kids yesterday at the Children's Museum right after we counted down to 12:00.... that's noon. We had a nap time to stick to.

 

Miss A truly is a city girl at heart.

 

 

Mama Jelly and her two little sticky fingered kiddos.

So there you have it, a short little nothing that tells and brings those 5 readers up to speed about the going's on in the Jelly household. My New Year's resolution, in case you didn't guess, was to become more organized, more on task. God has called us Christian women to be keepers of our home and while that is an opened ended invitation, we are also called to be organizers of the home we keep. At least this is how I feel about the scriptures. So I am working hard at being more organized and better at being on point with my tasks.


Tomorrow's blog post? How I started my Home Management Binder for free. Stay tuned.

Mama Jelly

I do Carpe Diem, thank you very much.

Recently, on the Facebook walls of many of my friends (many of whom I have actually met, in real life no less) I have seen this wonderfully written blog post about Carpe Diem in reference to one's annoying  interesting offspring. Written by Glennon Melton at Momastry originally, it showed up on the Huffinton Post no less. This wonderfully written and witty post had me laughing till my sides ached. Go read it!!! You will be nodding along as I was and saying "Yes, I agree." Go ahead, I'll wait. 

 As mom's, I'm sure we have all had those amazing, awesome moments when one or more of our dirty monsters beautiful angels are acting........ well......... um let's use the loose term "up", shall we. In the post, Melton mentions liking parenting to climbing Mount Everest:

"I think parenting young children (and old ones, I've heard) is a little like climbing Mount Everest. Brave, adventurous souls try it because they've heard there's magic in the climb. They try because they believe that finishing, or even attempting the climb are impressive accomplishments. They try because during the climb, if they allow themselves to pause and lift their eyes and minds from the pain and drudgery, the views are breathtaking. They try because even though it hurts and it's hard, there are moments that make it worth the hard. These moments are so intense and unique that many people who reach the top start planning, almost immediately, to climb again. Even though any climber will tell you that most of the climb is treacherous, exhausting, killer. That they literally cried most of the way up.
And so I think that if there were people stationed, say, every thirty feet along Mount Everest yelling to the climbers -- "ARE YOU ENJOYING YOURSELF!? IF NOT, YOU SHOULD BE! ONE DAY YOU'LL BE SORRY YOU DIDN'T!" TRUST US!! IT'LL BE OVER TOO SOON! CARPE DIEM!" -- those well-meaning, nostalgic cheerleaders might be physically thrown from the mountain."

She goes on to express what her children where doing when they were "acting up" and it is quite hysterical and so true. Our children find moments in everyday to embarrass the pants off us. I have laughed with mommy friends during in home parties of the antics of our children. More than one time, while out with Miss A and Little B, one or both are acting as though it is the first time in a month they have been let out of the house. Miss A is running the isles, usually yelling things like "FOR NARNIA!!" or "TO INFINITY AND BEYOND!!" or her favorite, barking so loud you can't think, while she is pretending to lick some unsuspecting patron in the Target line. (Have I mentioned that we are Disney Club members and that Lady and the Tramp is on a continuous loop? No?) I can completely get exactly what she is saying. I understand it, I'm right there with her......... to a point.

In the post, Melton mentions Kairos time or as she puts it "it's God's time". It's those moments in time when we really look at our kids and the world around us holds still, we enjoy that moment, breathing in their youth and their amazing wonder and think "You are my heart and soul." I get this too. Busy as we moms are, we forget sometimes to slow down and breath in our children, just drink in their personality and eye color and freckled cheeks. I understand Kairos time, this I can get behind.

The disgusting little truth? Even though there are moments when Miss A is licking people or having a famous "Drama Mama" moment, I still Carpe Diem. I still look at those frustrating moments and think "I only have so long." I know! I suppose now I will be thrown from the mountain.

As I've mentioned before, I had fertility issues. I'm talking serious problems, for years. Does this make me wiser or some how more intuitive; nope, not even a little bit. Does it make me just a smidgen more appreciative? Nope. There are mothers everyday out there who are appreciative. "What does it make you?", you might ask. I feel it makes me different, that is it. I see the days differently, I see the moments differently. Maybe because I had to give myself injections three times a day or because I had to endure rounds of invasive and painful procedures or because I had to ingest numerous pills to force my body to do what so many women can do on their own, the drugs and the injections have messed with my brain and have made me crazy. It's definitely a possibility, given that I Carpe Diem, ever Diem. But I just see it differently. I've had the drugs and the miracle, only to sit at a memorial service for my sweet baby, instead of a church dedication. I've been on the end where I spend long, tear stained days and nights hating God. I also believe that God gave me those children to help other grieving families who, heartbreaking, are just starting their grief. I have also known the amazing joy of holding your new born baby, just before you place him or her in the car seat to go home.

While this makes me different, I can already hear the grumbling. "Oh I see, she Carpe Diem, but that's only because of her history." Maybe, but more than likely, it's a personality flaw.

Take, for instance, the day Little B almost choked himself unconscious. Normal day in our household, Little B is on the floor, practicing his newest trick of rolling, like a little log toward the TV cords. This is immensely enjoyable for him. He rolls over to the TV, and wiggles himself until he grasps the cords that go to the wireless box and then, with this grin of satisfaction, he jiggles the cord, making it rattle. To a baby that is almost 8 months, this is a good time. To his parents, however, we see the danger in this.The whole TV possibly falling over or wireless box tumbling down and cracking Little B in the head is not the desired effect we want. As Big B has said "No one likes a flat baby."

So I had removed Little B from his usual line of attack for the umpteenth time in the last 10 minutes. He was mad at me and Miss A was out of the room for a minute when I heard, what can only be described as a silent gag. Don't ask me what that sounds like, but I just knew he was choking. I turn him over to discover a red faced, bug eyed, drooling baby boy. Reacting purely on instinct, since I haven't practiced nursing is quite a while, I proceeded to flip him over and whack his back and flip him back over to do chest thrusts at the sternum. Back and forth between whacking his back and hitting his sternum, until he vomited and a sticker came up. I bounced up, yelled at Miss A to get into the car and noticed his face was red again. He was making sharp, wheezing noises and I knew I hadn't gotten it all out. Throwing both children into the car, I rushed to the Texas Urgent Care unit. Normally, it is advised to call 911, but I live two blocks from the ugri-care. I made it there, rushed in with him, screaming, "he's choking!!!". A nurse, a secretary and a doctor rushed out to me and someone took him, preforming another round of the Heimlich maneuver, where he vomited up the remaining sticker. He took a large breath and screamed.

In those moments, as the Kairos time ticked slowly by, as I watched in quiet but loud awe of what was happening, I realized something. Not some revaluation of life or anything. No I realized that I didn't have on shoes. Know what else I realized? I realized my daughter was only wearing a t-shirt. She had on a t-shirt, panties and nothing else. Nothing. No socks, so shoes, no skirt, nothing. I also realized that Little B had only a diaper on. You may think "well, it was an emergency. what should you do? Stop and get dressed?" No. But what did I do? I laughed. I laughed until no sound came out and tears rolled down my cheeks. I laughed until I couldn't breath. I laughed until I was certain they were ready to sign the children over to CPS and commit me. I laughed. Loud. High pitched. Snorting. I laughed.

Not because of stress or because of relief. I laughed because it was funny. Us. This motley crue God pulled together and made a family, were standing in the emergency, half naked, hair unbrushed, a hot mess of a family. Do you know what else? After she cried because she thought it was her fault (Miss A had given Little B the sticker), she laughed with me. Because it was funny, because she needed to, and because she also has my ability to give the incorrect response at inappropriate times.

There are moments like this one, peppered all over the last 5 years. Moments like walking into the bathroom and feeling water drip on my face and hearing "I washed the celling." Moments where Miss A grabbed a pair a scissors and managed to "give herself a mullet" and chop off almost all of her then waist length hair. She got down to almost the scalp on one side and managed to have a mullet with a rat tail, impressive. Moments where she sneaks past Big B and takes finger paints to our shower after she strips down to her panties because she doesn't want to get her dress dirty. Taking crackers to her room for her dolls, resulting in an infestation of ants. Where she is in the church Christmas play and can not stand the bright lights, so she stands, the entire play, covering her eyes and saying "that is way to bright!" Moment after moment. Yes some she is sick in, some she is pitching a fit. Like the time she pitched a fit, and I, in my parenting awesomeness, pitched a fit to "show her" how silly she was. I managed to knock over a display of Santa's and she screamed "Mommy you killed Santa!!! Look his head came off!!"

Even in these moments, I Carpe Diem. I do. I look at her in my most frustrated moments and think "we only have so long and the magic is over." I can't wait to have moments with my Little B-man. I can't wait to see what he will get into, what he will say.

I guess I'm a Pollyanna, a rose colored glasses kinda gal. I may not always appreciate the time for what is , during the checkout line meltdowns, but I can appreciate the gifts that God has given our family. I can appreciate and be humbled that I am these kids mother. Not in a snotty "look at me I'm better than you way". But in a "I see their flaws and my own weakness and I laugh at it all and want it to last." I Carpe Diem not because some little old lady, with a wistful look in her eye says so. I Carpe Diem because she is 5 and he is 7months and I only have a few more years left to enjoy the pain and struggle of parenting.

While I agree that the good willing cheerleaders on the side of Mount Everest would surely get annoying and the climbers may want to feel like shoving them off. If it weren't for the cheerleaders, would the climbers even appreciate the moments where the mountain becomes hard? Would they even notice the mountain and it's tempers if it weren't for the ones who had climbed before? Would the climbers, huddled together in the cold and darkness think "I can make it one more day. I have seen the cheerleaders." I suppose my rose colored glasses make me want say "I sure hope so."