My Three Sons

I thought I would close out February with a cute picture I took of all three boys.  A little bribery was involved to get them all to smile and sit together for a picture.  But it was definitely worth it!

Tee Ball Season

Jackson's tee ball season started officially this past weekend.  His team, the Pirates, had practice the week before.  The opening ceremony was Saturday morning, and his first game was Saturday afternoon.

Andrew is an assistant coach helping out with the team.  It is more or less trying to control chaos, but the kids all seem to be having a good time.  I laughed out loud when a kid was beamed in the back of the head by a ball thrown by his teammate.  It's also pretty amusing to watch the coaches trying to direct the kids to run to first base and not third.

So far, tee ball is a success for Jackson.  He's really enjoying himself and asks to practice at home everyday.  Normally, I wouldn't mind at all.  It's just a little difficult being 37 weeks pregnant.

A few pictures of Jackson in his uniform during the opening ceremonies, and a few from his first game.

Confession: I never wanted a big family

Truth:  I never wanted a big family.  At all.

As my final pregnancy comes to an end, I've been thinking a lot about my family lately.  I've also been thinking about how my sense and definition of family has changed a lot over the years.

When I was 20 years old, I wasn't even sure I wanted kids.  In fact, I was really leaning towards the 'no way in hell do I want kids' concept.  I knew I wanted to find someone to spend the rest of my life with.  But the whole kids thing, I wasn't feeling it.  Even the thought of being around little ones didn't sit well with me.

A few years later, I met Andrew.  He and I knew from the start of dating this was it.  I can't nail down a specific event or date, but just this overwhelming feeling of this is right.  I was coming around to the concept of kids.  We had discussed it.  I remember making to very clear to Andrew early on saying, "I only want a maximum of 2 and don't expect me to stay home.  I want to work."  Andrew, being the sweet and loving man he is, just said okay.  We married at 24 and life went on.

Fast forward a few years later, Andrew and I decide to start a family.  I have my first son, and my entire world changes.  I can't imagine putting my little guy in daycare (which had already been lined up and his spot reserved).  The thought of having someone else look after his needs and spending more time with him during the day than I would, did not sit well with me.  I just couldn't wrap my head around someone else raising my child.  I'm the mom.  I grew him inside me for 9 months.  I pushed the little sucker out.  I should be the one around him and raising him.

Needless to say, this epiphany I had floored me.  I was not expecting it at all.  I never thought I would be the stay at home mom type.  I was the work your butt off, have drive and ambition for my career type of woman.  Wasn't I?  It never once dawned on me I would want to put aside my three college degrees I worked my ass off for to raise a kid.  Yes, I have two Masters, and I wanted to stay at home raising a child.  What is wrong with me?  Why would I do that?  Don't I deserve to benefit off of all the hard work I put in over the years?  Shouldn't I be okay with the thought of my kid in daycare?

My point is I wasn't okay with it.  I wasn't even keen on the thought of dropping my child off with someone else why I went back to work.  Once I was hit with this realization, I honestly didn't know how to deal with my feelings.  I felt lost, overwhelmed, saddened, happy, depressed, and elated all at the same time.  I felt like I was on the freakin' merry go 'round of emotions.  Nothing made sense and I questioned all my previous decisions because if I could change my mind so quickly about wanting to stay at home, what else did I decide wrong?

After wrestling with these emotions and still not understanding any of it, I had a very long, deep discussion with Andrew about all of it.  I think he was as much in shock about everything as I was.  I blindsided him.  He never saw this one coming and admitted to it.  After our conversation and looking at finances, we decided it was feasible for me to stay at home and raise our child.

And I have been every since.

When my first son was 8 months olds, I found out I was pregnant with my second.  Surprise!  Andrew and I had planned to have another, but we weren't anticipating them to be so close.  God apparently had other plans.

I had two boys I was raising at home.  Things were a little hectic to say the least, but I was managing.

A year after my second son was born, I started thinking about expanding our family with a third child.  I'm not sure what it was, but I couldn't get rid of this feeling Andrew and I were supposed to have a third child.  Call it divine intervention or gut instinct.  Whatever it was, I couldn't shake it.  I finally broached the subject with Andrew one afternoon.  Surprisingly, he was thinking and feeling the same.  It's a little scary how tuned in to one another we are at times.

Our third son was born almost exactly 2 years after our second.

I was now staying at home raising three boys.  Life was crazy, fun, more crazy, and happy.

How did we decide on a fourth child?  I got another crazy feeling about expanding our growing family.  I loved the idea of having a big family.  My three boys were great, but I just knew I wanted one more.  I also knew from the get go this would be it.  No more expanding after the fourth.  A girl soon to be arriving will be the conclusion of our big family.

The children I thought I never wanted a measly decade ago I love and cherish today.  The small family I thought would be ideal is now a big family of almost four kids.

I guess what I've been trying to say this entire time is I did not know what I wanted when I was younger.  I had this idea in my mind about working and having a small family that blew up in my face as soon as I realized I didn't want it anymore.  I changed my mind about a lot of life changing things, and that's okay.  I'm okay with that now.  It did take me awhile to accept the idea.  What I thought I wanted when I was 20 is not what I ended up wanting at all.

I get a lot of fulfillment raising my kids and watching them grow.  I'm working on side projects to help me continue to grow as an individual, but my family comes first.  My large, ridiculously loud family is everything I wanted, and I never knew I wanted it until I opened myself up to the idea.  And it's a great idea for me.

Limiting myself to the ideas of a 20 year old mind would have been stupid.  I continue to grow every year and change with what life brings me.  I'm happy I opened myself up to the idea of a large family.  It's something I will never regret.

Sawyer the Klepto strikes again!

Andrew and I decided to turn in early last night.  Yes, we are turning into two tired old people who would rather lay in bed and relax for the last hour or so of our day.  It was also a long day.

As I'm brushing my teeth and washing my face, I hear Andrew rummaging around out in the bedroom.

"Where's the remote?" he asked.

"Not sure. Check under the bed.  Sawyer was in here while I was taking a shower.  He almost lost my lip gloss again.  I'm sure its around," I stated.

After successfully finding the remote under a pile of clothes (Sawyer had indeed decided to play with it), I still hear Andrew looking for something.  Come to find out, he couldn't find his PlayStation controller.

He is tearing up the bedroom, pulling clothes out of the hamper, turning over the dog bed, checking every drawer in the bathroom, and starts checking the entire downstairs.  I finish up in the bathroom and start helping him look.

We tear apart the bedroom, bathroom, study, living room, dining room, the unpacked boxes still hanging around (yes, I still have unpacked boxes), and the controller is nowhere to be found.  We check under the couches and in the Lego box because Sawyer recently took to taking the mouse from the computer and hiding it in those places.  Still nothing.

Andrew's getting frustrated, and I'm just flat out tired.  As much as it pains me, I was actually glad Sawyer decided to hide something of Andrew's instead of mine.  Sad to say, but I've been the victim way too many times.

I crawl into bed to finally relax because this has been going on for about 20 minutes.  After another few minutes, I had an epiphany!

"Andrew, check the pantry!  I remember coming out of the bathroom this morning and finding a GoGo Squeeze Applesauce on your nightstand.  I thought it was odd and figured Sawyer must have done it," I say while walking into the kitchen to check the pantry myself.

We both reach the pantry at the same time.  Andrew opens the door, goes into the GoGo Squeeze box, and voila!  Pulls out his PlayStation controller!

He and I both start laughing at the ridiculousness of the entire situation.  Sawyer the Klepto has struck again!

"You couldn't have remembered that 20 minutes ago when I started looking for it?" Andrew states.

"I needed time for my mind to relax and process all the information," I said, "Quit your complaining.  You would never have found it if I hadn't remembered that minor detail of my day."

We both had a good laugh about the whole thing!

And I'm done...

I am done with this pregnancy.  I am done with feeling huge, having my hips ache, bracing myself (physically and mentally) to get up and down, and just done.

I know you are probably thinking I should quit my whining.  I'm almost to the end of the road.  I just need to suck it up and put on a happy face until birth.

No.  Nope. Nada.

Any woman who has been pregnant can tell you it is not all sunshine daisies and roses at the end.  It's just not.

I'm running around after 3 other children.  None of my clothes are comfortable any more, not even my maternity stuff.  I would rather just walk around in yoga pants, workout gear, and my husband's shirts because that's really the only thing I'm comfortable wearing.  Which I do when no one else will see me.

Sitting down is great until I have to get up.  It takes the effort of lifting the Titanic in order to get up from a chair, and a lot of the times I'm having to sit on the ground to play with the kids.  My hips ache if I sit too long; my hips ache if I stand too long.

I bruised my ribs from a combination of sneezing, the stomach bug, and Cassidy constantly kicking me.  It hurts to pull, push, lift, and basically do anything that moves the section around my ribs and rib cage.  Sleeping on them is nearly impossible.  And yet, I have to pick up Sawyer several times throughout the day, climb in and out of the car, and play tee ball with Jackson and Cullen.

I've kept up with exercising 3 days a week throughout my entire pregnancy, but even that is getting harder and harder to do.  And it's always funny, the looks I get at the gym.  Some people look at me as though I'm nuts for working out.  While others stare, ready for me to push the baby out at any moment.

I'm almost to the end, but still not close enough.  Cassidy is snug inside at 35 weeks and continues to grow.  I'm all belly as the doctor says.  In a few weeks, my only little girl will be here with her three older brothers.  These last few weeks should prove to be an interesting combination of me still trying to perform all my motherly duties and being dead tired on my feet.

Almost there... almost there... almost there.

The Joy of Boys

About a week ago, our family made the drive down to Houston for a funeral.  A family member died, and we went to pay our respects.  All five of us hopped in the car at 8am to make it down right in the nick of time for funeral and graveside service.  It was beautiful and truly celebrated life.

Afterwards, Andrew and I took the boys to get some much needed food and burn off all the extra energy.  Seeing as we wouldn't allow them to run around the cemetery or jump on the inlaid gravestones, they were itching to play.

We, eventually, made it to my cousin's house for the gathering of family and friends.  A bunch of family was there.  My aunt and uncle had flown in from Florida to attend the funeral.  We haven't seen them since the kids were born, so it was nice to be able to catch up.

As the adults were talking, my boys decided to run around in the backyard with their toys.  Fine by me.  Run, play, burn all the pent up energy you have.  You have my blessings.  As the boys are getting their nice dress shirts soaked in the bird bathe, my aunt and uncle started telling me some of the shenanigans their 3 sons (my cousins) got into when they were younger.  Laughter was abound.

After awhile, Andrew and I said our goodbyes, gathered up our wet children (who thought they were sneaky grabbing fruit and cheese off the food trays), and headed home.

I've been thinking about my boys and the trouble they get into, the fights they pick with one another, and scenarios I never thought I would be apart.

I never knew anything and everything could be made into some sort of weapon.

I never knew I would have to explain not to touch your 'big penis' and it will go down.  Nor did I think I would be privy to fact my children like to show me when they have one.

Wrestling is a sport performed any and every where.  Dad included.

Dirt and digging will always be a favorite past time.

Taking their shirts off or getting naked is no problem, except at bath time (go figure), even when it is 20 degrees outside.

Playing good guys and bad guys never gets old.  Along with fighting bad guys, arguing who is the bad guy, and having Mom yell she's going to assign the bad guy if the bickering doesn't stop.

Eating is a favorite pastime, and I can never have enough of anything in the house.

Sitting and beating up the youngest (even if he is only 15 months old!) is another favorite pastime.

Watching sports for hours on end is learned very early on and requested at times.

The announcements of toots and burps is quite prevalent.

At an early age, their rooms start to smell like dirt and stinky boy.

Even with all of these things, the joy of boys is not lost on me.  I get hugs and kisses still.  I get told at least a dozen times a day 'I'm a girl.'  And when little hands land on my very pregnant belly, it still makes me smile.  They are kind and caring.  My boys still love to snuggle with me on the couch, even when I'm slightly opposed to it with my large belly right now.

They are sweet and caring in their own way, my boys.

The Stomach Bug Hits

Monday afternoon a stomach virus hit our house hard.  It was an all out battle and the virus definitely won hands down.

Cullen fell out of ranks a little after 1530hrs when I found out the cupcake he ate at school was red.  Red all over my bedroom carpet and me.  I spent over an hour cleaning the mess and him up before Andrew was able to make it home.

I finally got Cullen settled on the couch when at 1730hrs Jackson looks at me saying, "I'm going to throw up."  I pick him up and haul ass to our downstairs bathroom.  We make it to the doorway when Jackson loses it.  Thankfully, Andrew was home and offered to clean up that mess.  I get another trashcan out and put it by the sofa.

In the meantime, Cullen loses it again.  I find out he has a serious diversion to throwing up in a trashcan and toilet.  He just wants to lose it wherever suits him.  Andrew and I are not digging this idea at all.

Jackson and Cullen alternate emptying their stomach contents for the rest of the evening.

I, on the other hand, lose my contents at 1830hrs in front of the whole family.  And about 5 minutes after I'm done, I'm comforting Jackson who is at it again.

Andrew and I finally get the boys down for an early bedtime after we're pretty sure they are done.

I decide to go to bed early because I'm still not feeling well.  I proceed to empty my stomach, pass out, wake up in agony, and empty my stomach.  This cycle goes on every hour until about 0100hrs.  Poor Andrew is right there with me taking care of me the whole time.  Best husband in the world!

Let me say, getting a stomach virus and being 34 weeks pregnant is not fun.  I was in pure misery the entire time.  I'm not only sick, but an dealing with the aches and pains of the third trimester overly emphasized because I'm sick.

I was practically bed ridden the next day.  Andrew took care of our other two refugees out in the family room.  We were not a happy household.

Thankfully, everyone is pretty much better.  Andrew hasn't come down with anything.  I am still lacking a lot of energy, but I have a parasite syphoning it off like a drug.  I'm just happy the kids are feeling better even if I'm not at 100 percent.  I do not want to go through this again.