So, I've said it before and I'll say it again...I underestimate this child. I don't know if I don't think he's capable of doing certain things or that subconsiously, I try to hold him back so that he won't grow up so quickly.
A couple of weeks ago, Cole wanted to wear a pair of bubba's underwear. "I wew unnawews wiff caws on 'em." In case you can't understand Cole's language, that was...he wanted to wear underwear with cars on it. Jon was home by this time and he told Cole he could wear the underwear if he would peepee on the potty. I looked at him with a look that said, "Yeah, right. Good luck with that." Jack chimed in and told Cole he would go with him and they could pee in the potty together. Cole still seemed unsure until we mentioned the idea of putting a cheerio in the potty and letting him "squirt" it.
He looked at Jon and said "Aiye." Translation: "Aiye," in Colie language means "yeah" or "okay." My jaw hit the floor.
I've had the potty conversations many times with Cole and he adamently says "NO!"...everytime. I had firmly believed in my mind that Cole was a child that would be potty-trained no sooner than 3 years old. I thought he was incapable of understanding what it meant to use the potty. Honestly...we've been busy with the move and getting settled, that I just haven't made it a priority.
Other than the day he pooped on the back porch...this potty-training thing has been a breeze.
Even though I hate it that you are growing so quickly before my eyes, I'm proud of you, Colie.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
My Little Ballplayer
Jackson has become quite the ballplayer this season. It was so incredible to watch him improve and find confidence in his ability to play the game. He started out the season dreading each and every game and practice. He would beg me to miss..."just this once." But over time, Jackson really started to improve. With practice and encouragement, he began to see that he really was good at he game. He mostly played catcher and 3rd base. As a mother, to see his face when he made an out was one of the best feelings in the world. He was really proud of himself...but not as proud as I was of him.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Choosing my Battles
Cole is finding his own voice. He uses this voice to emphatically demand his wants to me. Some things are not negotiable, but I'm learning to let go of other things that I once thought were non-negotiable...like me always picking what my children wear. On our venture to Wal-Mart, this is what he chose....
That's right...camo shorts must have cowboy boots and mittens to look just right. Did I mention it was 95 degrees this day?
That's right...camo shorts must have cowboy boots and mittens to look just right. Did I mention it was 95 degrees this day?
Our New House
Well, we're finally moved in...kind of. I say "kind of" because I still have quite a few boxes still in the garage and I haven't unpacked anything for three weeks. I'm pretty burnt out right now. It's a slow process of trying to make your house a home. I keep trying to remind myself that it took me five years to get the last house the way I wanted it. Here are a few pictures.
My entryway...I love the wallpaper. Some hate it...I love it.
My porch swing. This is my new favorite place, especially early in the morning.
Our backyard with big shade trees.
Our den...I finally buckled and let Jon get recliners after I said I never would....they're our "ma and pa" chairs.
Our dining room. I plan on have Sunday dinners in here every week.
My formal living room. I get to have girly, pretty, totally impractical furniture in there because no children are allowed!
I love this house. It's a fixer-upper. There are lots of changes that need to be made, but that will take some time. It's a house that I can see myself living in for many years and making lots of happy memories. It was a bittersweet move. As we closed the garage door for the last time on our old house, Jon cried. This of course made me cry. It was our first home as a newleywed couple. We brought our babies home there. Jackson learned to crawl for the first time down that hall. Cole banged his milkcup on the rock fireplace and it still bears the calcifications. Sampson dug a hole in the carpet down to the cement floor...yeah...that was a bad day.
We put every nail in those walls, every stain on the carpet, every flower in the yard. Jon built the shutters with his own two hands. That house has seen lots of tears and lots of joys. It served as a place that always felt safe to me. It was a shelter against many thunderstorms, tornadoes and blizzards. It blocked me from the world as I cried alone and felt overwhelmed. The mantle held our stockings: first mine, Jon's, and Sampson's...then Jack's and Cole's. In the garage, the wall shows the markings of the boys height year after year. To quote one my all-time favorite movie, 'Father of the Bride', "it was warm in the winter and cool in the summer. It was a great house". But, as I became really sad, I got to thinking...that's just what it is...a 'house'. In the movie, Steve Martin goes on to say, "What I love most about this place were the faces I saw when I walked through the door."
Those faces are in the new house with new memories waiting to be made. I'm excited for what the future holds here. I also know that the old house will always be a place I drive past every now and then and say, "Remember when?"
My entryway...I love the wallpaper. Some hate it...I love it.
My porch swing. This is my new favorite place, especially early in the morning.
Our backyard with big shade trees.
Our den...I finally buckled and let Jon get recliners after I said I never would....they're our "ma and pa" chairs.
Our dining room. I plan on have Sunday dinners in here every week.
My formal living room. I get to have girly, pretty, totally impractical furniture in there because no children are allowed!
I love this house. It's a fixer-upper. There are lots of changes that need to be made, but that will take some time. It's a house that I can see myself living in for many years and making lots of happy memories. It was a bittersweet move. As we closed the garage door for the last time on our old house, Jon cried. This of course made me cry. It was our first home as a newleywed couple. We brought our babies home there. Jackson learned to crawl for the first time down that hall. Cole banged his milkcup on the rock fireplace and it still bears the calcifications. Sampson dug a hole in the carpet down to the cement floor...yeah...that was a bad day.
We put every nail in those walls, every stain on the carpet, every flower in the yard. Jon built the shutters with his own two hands. That house has seen lots of tears and lots of joys. It served as a place that always felt safe to me. It was a shelter against many thunderstorms, tornadoes and blizzards. It blocked me from the world as I cried alone and felt overwhelmed. The mantle held our stockings: first mine, Jon's, and Sampson's...then Jack's and Cole's. In the garage, the wall shows the markings of the boys height year after year. To quote one my all-time favorite movie, 'Father of the Bride', "it was warm in the winter and cool in the summer. It was a great house". But, as I became really sad, I got to thinking...that's just what it is...a 'house'. In the movie, Steve Martin goes on to say, "What I love most about this place were the faces I saw when I walked through the door."
Those faces are in the new house with new memories waiting to be made. I'm excited for what the future holds here. I also know that the old house will always be a place I drive past every now and then and say, "Remember when?"
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
"Lightbulb" Moments
I feel like I'm between a rock and a hard place right now. I've been in an emotional battle with myself for quite some time...28 years to be exact. The good news is...I've made some real progress over the last three years! Progress that is changing my life-my relationship with my husband and my children, my thoughts about myself, the way I react in situations I don't want to be in, etc. God has really been working on me now for three long years. To grow is painful. I don't take pain easily. I'm a baby when it comes to pain; physical, emotional, psychological. I was born into this world wanting to have it easy in every area of my life...unfortunately, God didn't see it my way. I've experienced a lot of pain...a lot.
Isn't it amazing, how when you think you've finally got yourself figured out, life pushes you face down in the mud and calls you a 'wiener'? You're flying high, feeling good, got your ducks in a row, and suddenly...the bottom drops out. To put it mildly...I'm a work in progress. I've battled with addictions my whole life: obsessive cleaning, compulsive thoughts, my battle with food, spending money when I'm emotional, amongst other unmentionable addictions. I know some of you might be thinking I'm being dramatic, but honestly, I do struggle.
I was watching Oprah today-I know, I know! How typical of a housewife to get advice from Oprah, but I swear, God has spoken to me through many an "Oprah Winfrey" show before! She had a guest on her show speaking about a book she wrote about women and their addictions to food. Isn't it interesting how men don't struggle with food as an emotional issue quite like women? But as I was watching this she was talking about addictive behavior and how we choose a behavior to avoid feeling the emotions we have instead. I'm eating when you aren't really hungry. I'm obsessively cleaning when my house is spotless, I'm telling myself things that I know, logically, aren't true, I'm shopping for something when I don't know what exactly I'm looking for nor do I need anything. The cycle is repetitive...I do the same behaviors over and over, expecting different results than the last time.
I've lived since I was four years old, believing that I'm not enough...I'm not enough and I'm too much, all at the same time. If I do it differently...better, then...then they will be happy...I will be happy. If I look good on the outside, they won't notice how painful it is on the inside. I've failed. What if they leave me?
I relate all things in my life to motherhood. Seriously...who needs high school, or college, or a doctorate? The most important thing in our life comes down to relationships, and you don't learn that by earning a degree, it comes from life experience. My children have taught me so much...so much. I see my faults in ways I've taught them. But, I'm also seeing my strengths in what I've taught them. There is no better feeling than to watch your child doing something great and to have the satisfaction of knowing that you are responsible for that. No amount of money, drugs, alcohol, or sex will satisfy you like this will.
My "lightbulb" moment is to be aware from now on. When I face a stressful moment, instead of reacting prematurely, I'm going to think...What am I feeling right now? What am I "hungry" for? Will I feel better after I do my "drug of choice", or will it leave me still feeling empty? What can I learn from this experience?
I will stop telling myself that I'm not good enough. I will stop dwelling on my failures. I will remind myself that "it" wasn't about me. I will stop pursuing perfection, and remember that practice does not make perfection, but progress. I will include God in my decisions about even the simple things....food, time management, feelings, etc. I will forgive myself. I will ask myself my favorite Dr. Phil question...How's this workin' for me? I will remember that the difference between prayer and worry is to whom you direct your thoughts. I will stop punishing myself for what is in the past and out of my control. I will stop thinking about the "what-if's". I will stop measuring my self-worth on what the world says is successful. I will embrace my body at every stage of my life and be thankful at how it has taken care of me. I will take the word "but", out of my vocabulary. I will dwell on what I'm thankful for and blessed with instead of my shortcomings. I won't resist change. I will end each day with telling myself, "Good job, Steph...and we'll try again tomorrow".
Be patient...God isn't finished with me, yet.
Isn't it amazing, how when you think you've finally got yourself figured out, life pushes you face down in the mud and calls you a 'wiener'? You're flying high, feeling good, got your ducks in a row, and suddenly...the bottom drops out. To put it mildly...I'm a work in progress. I've battled with addictions my whole life: obsessive cleaning, compulsive thoughts, my battle with food, spending money when I'm emotional, amongst other unmentionable addictions. I know some of you might be thinking I'm being dramatic, but honestly, I do struggle.
I was watching Oprah today-I know, I know! How typical of a housewife to get advice from Oprah, but I swear, God has spoken to me through many an "Oprah Winfrey" show before! She had a guest on her show speaking about a book she wrote about women and their addictions to food. Isn't it interesting how men don't struggle with food as an emotional issue quite like women? But as I was watching this she was talking about addictive behavior and how we choose a behavior to avoid feeling the emotions we have instead. I'm eating when you aren't really hungry. I'm obsessively cleaning when my house is spotless, I'm telling myself things that I know, logically, aren't true, I'm shopping for something when I don't know what exactly I'm looking for nor do I need anything. The cycle is repetitive...I do the same behaviors over and over, expecting different results than the last time.
I've lived since I was four years old, believing that I'm not enough...I'm not enough and I'm too much, all at the same time. If I do it differently...better, then...then they will be happy...I will be happy. If I look good on the outside, they won't notice how painful it is on the inside. I've failed. What if they leave me?
I relate all things in my life to motherhood. Seriously...who needs high school, or college, or a doctorate? The most important thing in our life comes down to relationships, and you don't learn that by earning a degree, it comes from life experience. My children have taught me so much...so much. I see my faults in ways I've taught them. But, I'm also seeing my strengths in what I've taught them. There is no better feeling than to watch your child doing something great and to have the satisfaction of knowing that you are responsible for that. No amount of money, drugs, alcohol, or sex will satisfy you like this will.
My "lightbulb" moment is to be aware from now on. When I face a stressful moment, instead of reacting prematurely, I'm going to think...What am I feeling right now? What am I "hungry" for? Will I feel better after I do my "drug of choice", or will it leave me still feeling empty? What can I learn from this experience?
I will stop telling myself that I'm not good enough. I will stop dwelling on my failures. I will remind myself that "it" wasn't about me. I will stop pursuing perfection, and remember that practice does not make perfection, but progress. I will include God in my decisions about even the simple things....food, time management, feelings, etc. I will forgive myself. I will ask myself my favorite Dr. Phil question...How's this workin' for me? I will remember that the difference between prayer and worry is to whom you direct your thoughts. I will stop punishing myself for what is in the past and out of my control. I will stop thinking about the "what-if's". I will stop measuring my self-worth on what the world says is successful. I will embrace my body at every stage of my life and be thankful at how it has taken care of me. I will take the word "but", out of my vocabulary. I will dwell on what I'm thankful for and blessed with instead of my shortcomings. I won't resist change. I will end each day with telling myself, "Good job, Steph...and we'll try again tomorrow".
Be patient...God isn't finished with me, yet.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Ring Around the Tub
Now that it's summer we've been spending a lot more time outside. The weather has been great lately, with the exception of the wind. Every night, this is what my tub looks like after the boys bathe....
Boys: aka Loud Noise Covered in Dirt
This is what happens when you leave your children alone for 30 seconds while you actually have an uninterrupted conversation with another adult....
Never trust the silence...that's when you know they're doing something they shouldn't be.
Never trust the silence...that's when you know they're doing something they shouldn't be.
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