Category Archives: Children

She Battles

Each day, right after her cup of coffee, she laces up her tennie runners as her dad used to call them, straps the baby in the stroller and begins her walk down a lonely dirt, country road.  Slow at first, building steam, gearing up.  Just barely after she starts, her mind tells her to quit.  Gives her the talk.  Lists the excuses. But she has no excuses.  Time is no excuse.  Ability is no excuse.  Rain or snow is no excuse.  So she perseveres.  Each day she goes a little farther.  Pushes herself a little harder.  Forces herself to make it just past the cotton field with the new plants pushing through, then a little farther to the windmill.  Finally to the red barn where she can turn around.

Most days she prays.  She prays for her loved ones, she thanks God for her family, her health, her many blessings.  She thinks, she sings, she talks to her baby who bounces along with her Clifford pacifier in her mouth, the breeze blowing her little crop of hair.

She’s in the midst of a battle.  An all out war against the baby weight.  A daily struggle.  She remembers her former self.   The younger her, before marriage and pregnancy transformed her into a jiggly blob.  She curses her body.  Its slowness, its sluggish metabolism, its saggy skin and weakness.  But with the next thought, she recognizes its magnificence.  Its ability to create life, to bring it forth, to nourish and sustain it.

She makes herself run now.  From telephone pole to telephone pole she runs.  The next telephone pole cheers her on.  Encourages her, reminds her that the next one is not too far off.  Until her mind once again tells her to quit, catch her breath.

She walks now.  Pushing her sleeping baby. Gasping for air.  She passes the stench of death.  Something lying in the bar ditch beneath the tall weeds.  She turns her head as the smell of rot burns into her nose.  She imagines it a mouse, a bird, a skunk.  Surely the worst is over.  “Decay faster you S.O.B.,” she mutters aloud.

Her body glistens with perspiration.  Her face is the color of beets.  Her shoulders tanned in the sun, the right one a shade darker than the left.  She turns into her drive, slowing to a snail’s pace.  At the front door, she lifts her dozing baby from the stroller and places her heavy head against her sweaty neck.  The air conditioning is a wonderful respite from the early morning heat.  Her eyes adjust to the darkness of the nursery as she places her in the crib to dream the sweet dreams of babies.

Her next battle is laundry.

 

 

 

 

 

Outside

Our baby girl loves it outside.

No matter the mercury reading, she hasn’t learned to complain about the heat yet.

 

We haven’t cut her hair to look like a mohawk on it’s way to growing out, it’s just the way her hair, well is growing out.  Possibly one of the reasons she’s mistaken for a boy frequently.

The chickens are as curious about her as she is of them.  But everyone’s on their best behavior so far.  No pecking or feather pulling have occurred.

I just love everything about her.  The birth mark on her forehead that reminds me of Australia, those lovely long eyelashes framing her deep brown eyes, the way she smells like “outside” after only a few minutes.  But heck, so do I.  Even the little skinned place beside her nose where her fingernails got her.

Oh, and I mustn’t forget  her two brand spanking new pearly whites.

Peace, pecks, and pigs—Randomness

It’s a peaceful kind of morning.  No hustle, no bustle.

There’s a cool breeze, and it’s a nice respite before the West Texas July sun follows it’s usual path in the cloudless sky and the daytime temps rise to scorch and wither.  But after all, it is summer.  What else do we expect.

EK and I sat outside for a spell.  Me with my coffee, she with her glee.

Watching the world through the eyes of a baby brings on a new light.  I read that every day to a baby is like a visit to Paris for the first time for us.  The new smells, the new sights.  We would be on high alert, taking it all in.

Her yard is a far cry from Paris, I would have to imagine since I’ve never visited there.  But oh, how she takes it all in.  She notices the smallest things.  A leaf blowing across the yard, a black bird flying to rest in a tree top, the bark of Drew and Grace from the backyard saying, “We want out, let us out, we want to see you this morning too”, the choo choo whistle as it rolls down the tracks.

A chicken flew up on the arm of our chair with her beady eye and pointy beak.  Me, I’m a bit intimidated.  I don’t know why I suddenly became afraid of my chickens, as if they could peck me to death or something.  I usually shoo them away afraid they might peck EK, but today we just sat.  The chicken jerked her chicken neck around studying us, and EK stared back.  I put EK’s hand on her feathers to let her feel.

The other day my mom mentioned how the baby needs one of those toys, you know the kind we used to have as a kid.  Where you pull the string and the animal makes it’s sound.  I said, “Mom.  Look around.  Why does she need that?  We have horses that say neigh, dogs that say ruff, chickens that say bawk, cows that say moo, right here.”

That seemed to satisfy my mom, but it wouldn’t surprise me if she pulls up with a pig in the passenger seat one day.

 

 

Fantopia

fantopia—a combination of fantasy and utopia.  I just made that word up.  I think.  Until I google it, and learn that it’s already been made up. So I won’t burst my bubble.

I live in a fantopia.  A fantasy utopian world in my own head.

In this world, I imagine myself fit and fabulous.  My garden bursts with abundant color.  My home shines with freshly polished floors.  The internet connection zips and zooms.  Laughter fills the house.  Babies don’t poop up their backs.   Everything is simple and easy.

Maybe it’s not your fantopia, but it’s mine.  I live it.

Case in point.   Have you seen a pettiromper?  Unless your a new mom to a lovely little girl, maybe you haven’t.

Here’s a picture I stole off the internet.

beautiful baby picture stolen from http://www.happybirthdaybabyboutique.com

Cute, adorable, and about $35.

Step into my fantopia, where I  say to myself, “I can make this.  I can sew.  I’ve sewed curtains.  And buttons.  How hard can it be?”

Well for starters, it can be very hard.  First off, I can’t find this lacy material anywhere, (but I only looked one place), so I settled for the next best thing.

A ruffled material that I see old ladies (my mother for one) wearing on their shirts these days.

So I buy it.  And I buy some matching thread.  Now I’m in business.  I can whip this out in no time.  I googled a little tutorial about how to make a romper, and feeling like the overachieving mom of the year, I commit to the task, right after I dust off the sewing machine,  make J-Dub mess with it since the pedal won’t work, figure out how to thread the darn thing, and attempt at making a bobbin that ended up being a tangled mess so I just used a different colored one that was already ready to use.

It turns out, the ruffly material is hard to feed through the (Pardon my lack of technical terms here) foot feeder.  It also turns out that the ruffly material doesn’t look so good when you sew the ruffles up when the ruffles are supposed to lay downward.  But I persevered, just me and my seam ripper.

It began coming together.  I was so excited.  I had to hold myself back from waking my baby girl from her nap to try it on her when it was finally finished two days later.  I even whipped up a headband.

I put it on her and let’s just say, I need a wee bit more practice.  The elastic wasn’t short enough (tight enough) and it wouldn’t stay up above her tee tas.

So out came the handy safety pin because I just had to get a picture to show my loyal blog readers.
Which created the four hundredth problem of the project since my baby can’t exactly sit up by herself yet.

So here we are trying to take a picture, me needing to be farther back to get a better focus and shot, but at the same time needing to be in arm’s length to catch her when she topples.

A look of sheer panic knowing she is losing her balance and is about to fall.
Me grabbing EK’s hand right before she topples.

 

So after 3 bumps, a poke from the safety pin, and a dislocated shoulder on my part finally, I just propped her on my dirty, dingy, denim couch and snapped a picture.  Just kidding on all that.  We came out unscathed.

 

 

Was it a total flop?  No I just need to adjust the elastic and try to find the right material.

Will I try again?  Maybe.

Is my baby an absolute doll regardless of the get-up I dress her in?  Completely.

Did I rock the headband?  I think so.

Did I just spend 30 minutes looking for my camera cord to download these pictures?  Maybe 45 minutes.

Do I fail at life?  Naw, just at fantopia.

5 months

My sweet and precious Emma Kate,

Today you are 5 months old.  I’ve known this day was coming, but it just doesn’t seem possible.

I look at you and I can’t believe it.  That sweet tiny baby has morphed into a bundle of fun, with a  big grin and a bit of a mischievous nature I believe.  Your daddy keeps saying you’re turning into a little person.  A little person full of personality and curiosity.

We enjoy every minute of you.  Even the 3 a.m. ones.  Even the  “somebody better do something to fix my problem” crying ones.  Even the “I think I’ll go to the bathroom since you already have my diaper off” ones.

Your good moments completely outweigh the tougher times.  You play with your toys for a really long time.  Sometimes you get frustrated when you can’t reach your favorite toy, but you don’t give up easily.  You have a determined spirit about you, which I think is a good quality.  Later, we’ll likely call it stubbornness, which you’ll come by honestly since both your daddy and I possess it as well.

I quit my job so I can be a stay at home mom with you.  I don’t think we’ve been separated since the end of May.  We spend our days playing, singing, reading, eating, sleeping, and having some outside time which is your favorite.  Some days we go to town to visit or run errands, but not too much, because mama is a homebody.

You love feet, and it doesn’t really matter whose they are.  You learned how to get your piggies into your mouth this month and boy how good they must taste!  Really, it’s quite an accomplishment considering those fat rolls on your thighs.  My goodness, you’re cute!  You’re absolutely perfect.  At your last check up (when you had to get those mean shots) you weighed in at 14 pounds 10 ounces, 24 3/4 inches long, and your head was 16 inches.

You’ve got some pretty big brains in there, I think.  You’re smart Emma Kate.  There are things you do, that others may think are a fluke or accidental, but mama doesn’t think so.  I swear you know how to play peek a boo.  You pull a burp cloth or a small blanket up over your face and wait for us to say “Where’s Emma?” and then you pull it down to see us.  You do this again and again.  You give mama kisses on the cheek with that wide open mouth and you go in for Eskimo kisses with your Grandy.  You know that when you press down on that little green button the wipes will open up and you can try to eat them.

Bath time is a blast.  You’ve outgrown those little baby baths so you are a big girl in the tub these days.  And boy do you make a splash, literally.  You kick those feet like mad and splash water until it hits you in the face and slows you down a bit.

Sleeping is getting better.  This month, I’ve tried out a new method I read about on the internet called the E.A.S.Y method.  You eat, then you have activity time, and then when I notice you are getting drowsy, I’ll hold you with your binky for just a little while till your eyes are heavy, then I put you in your bed and you go right to sleep.  Usually.  You like to put a little blanket over your head.  I gave you a soft blanket to hold onto, and when I went back to check on you, you were sound asleep with it over your face.  Now, that’s just what you do.  Going to sleep works just fine, it’s just staying asleep that you don’t care for.  But you’re getting better.

You were dedicated to the Lord on June 3rd at Briarwood Church and received your very first little pink Bible and a certificate.  All the congregation reached out their hands to you as the pastor prayed God’s protection and guidance over your life.  He also made me tell the story of how a man in the church told me you were coming years ago, but I thought he was crazy.  

We had your pictures made this month with all your cousins on my side of the family.  Your aunt Jolea and your cousins Hannah and Zoie came to visit.  It was the first time H & Z had ever seen you, so we gathered up your cousins Harley and Maxx as well and went to daddy’s work to have pictures made.  They’re going to make Grandy a nice birthday present in a few days.

We also had your pictures made by yourself.

The doctor said we can start you on some rice cereal if we want, and start trying some other foods.  So mommy jumped the gun and gave you a taste of avocado instead!  You liked that for  a little bit, but not for long.  I’ve also given you tastes of strawberry, cantaloupe, and asparagus!  Mostly you shuddered and got this awful look on your face.  So we’re still waiting on the whole eating thing.

I hope I’m capturing everything I can about your little life honey.  You are our little joy. Your daddy and I want to do the best we can for you.  There will be times that we fail miserably I know.  We’re going to have bad times along with the good on this ride.  I want you to have  good memories of your childhood with us.  I want you to always know you’re loved deeply by us, grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, friends, and mostly by Jesus.  It’s incomprehensible that He loves you more than I do, but He does.  My love for you pales in comparison.

I’m so happy to have you, baby of mine.

XOXO,

Mommy

8 years ago yesterday

On Monday night at about 9:30, J-Dub says something to me from across the living room.  Since my ears aren’t exactly what they used to be, I repeat back to him, “Oh crap, you have to get groceries tomorrow???”

He repeats himself.  This time much louder and stressing every syllable as a vein pops out of his forehead, “I SAID,’OH CRAP!  OUR ANNIVERSARY’S TOMORROW.”
“Oh, crap.  It is.”

Now last year, I would’ve known that our anniversary was the next day.  I would have bought a mushy card, and just tried to catch him in forgetting it, since men are notorious for that. But that just goes to show how much a new little wee one sucks every brain cell right from your formerly astute mind.  I’m lucky to remember to turn off the iron these days.

So on June 12th (our 8 year anniversary), we arose at 5:00 a.m.  J-Dub told me Happy Anniversary first since I forgot again, then made me an anniversary coffee before he saddled his horse,  while I stumbled around readying myself and EK for a small road trip to help a friend work his cattle.

I never have made much of a hand in the cattle working department, and now since I have EK (whom one of his friends has nicknamed Sticker.  He says she’s like a little cactus and once she sticks to you…..well, I don’t remember exactly how it goes, but you probably get the idea.)  Anyway, since I have EK, I’m completely exempt from working at these cattle gatherings.  I wear shorts and flip flops and hang out holding the baby.

After the day of cattle work, and getting my car from the shop, and visiting with my mom for a while, we loaded up the baby and  drove to Amarillo that evening.  Since we’re die-hard romantics, we figured we might as well celebrate a little.  So we grabbed some supper and ordered extra egg rolls at Pei Wei, which I pronounce Pee Wee and Jason insists its Pay Way.  Just another petty argument which has helped make the past 8 years blissful.

I’m sure he’s right since he usually is.

No really.
He usually is.

Then we stopped at Starbuck’s for a frappuccino (mine with whipped cream, his without) before heading home and straight to bed for me and EK.  He probably fell asleep in his chair watching Monty Walsh.  Then there came a heck of a rainstorm in the night.

 

me and my honey

And that’s our life.

I raise my frappuccino to simply enjoying morning coffees, spending time smelling cattle hair burning, fussing over how to pronounce a word, rainstorms, falling asleep in the recliner, and of course our little Sticker,  who is bringing our marriage and our ability to love to an entirely different dimension.

I’m so blessed.

 

 

Day 1: Reporting In

I consider today my first day on the job as an official SAHM.

I was tired by 9:30.

Last week was actually the first week of summer vacation, but my sister and her two rug rats drove down from New Mexico and spent the week with us.  So, of course, the house didn’t get cleaned, boxes from my classroom didn’t get put away, and EK was not on a schedule (as if she’s ever been).  J-Dub also had some family drive in for the weekend, so I can assure you EK was extremely neglected with all the company.  But now the aunts and cousins have all returned to their normal routines, and the baby and I are trying to find our normal routine, if one even exists.

This is my favorite picture as of now.

Tomorrow I’m sure I’ll have another.

I love this picture because that is the image of the baby of my dreams.  A calm, quite, studious daughter who can be found with her nose in a book.

My mom bought EK these 12 little Disney board books. We began reading and EK took the book and put it in a perfect hold.  I had to take a quick snap with the camera, as it didn’t last long.

For the past 4 months, we’ve wondered what kind of a kid EK is going to be.  What kind of an adult?  What kind of a an overall human being.  As much as I’d love to snuggle up in bed on Saturday and read books together, I’m beginning to get the feeling she isn’t going to want to be still for very long.

I know you have all said she has been alert since the day she was born, and it’s true.  Even now, she won’t hardly sleep because she’s afraid she’s going to miss something.  Nursing is beginning to present yet another challenge as she pops her head up and looks around at the slightest sound.  Even snapping her picture while she naps awakens her.

She kicks her little legs  fiercely and pedals a million miles a day on her imaginary bicycle.

She’s a little roly poly now too as she’s learned how to roll across the room.  I lay her on her blanket, leave the room for 1 minute (I swear) and she’s across the room chewing on the vacuum cleaner cord.

I’ve spent my first day as a SAHM trying to clean the floors since she’s on the move.  Because you see, I have this shedding problem.  It’s my hair.  It comes out in GOBS.  It’s probably an undiagnosed medical condition of some sort, and it is totally gross when you pick up your baby and have to grab long brown hair out of her wet little fists and off her wet little chin.  I know…..Grody, Gross, Gross.

On the bright side, I’m looking forward to the weight loss when I’m chasing her around the house.
A girl can dream anyway, can’t she?

On the go or sleeping, she’s a dollbaby.  That’s all there is to it.  Her personality is beginning to emerge and even if she isn’t that calm, quiet, studious child; she’s mine.

And I couldn’t be happier.

Saturday

It’s the first Saturday in June.

The first Saturday of Summer Vacation.

 

Maybe we’ll go to the beach.

Listen to the seagulls call overhead.  Smell the sunscreen and sunshine on our bodies.  Feel the cold water lap around our ankles as I hold EK up on her wobbly legs.  Taste the saltwater as she sucks it from her fingers.

Unfortunately, the nearest beach is about 12 hours away.  Not exactly a day trip.

Instead, we’ll settle for the prairie grasses of the Texas panhandle.  Instead, we’ll listen to the cluck of the chickens, smell the oil rigs pumping nearby,  feel the wind tussle our hair, and taste the freedom of summertime.

 

 

The freedom to sleep later than 6:00 a.m.

The freedom to go barefoot all day long.

The freedom to splash in a kiddie pool and instead imagine it’s the saltwater of the ocean.

Today, I celebrate summer.  And the days to come.

I did not sign a contract to teach school next year.

In faith, knowing God will provide for all our needs.  In faith, knowing He did not give me this baby so that I cannot enjoy every moment with her.  In faith, knowing I now have a new purpose and job.  In faith, knowing these years are going to fly by whether I make money or not.

I am officially a Stay-at-home-mom.

And I am grateful.

Thank you Lord for your awesomeness.

Thank you Lord for Emma Kate.

Happy Summer, y’all.

 

4 months

Dearest Emma Kate,

Happy 4 month birthday baby!!

Oh my gosh, you are so fun!  Here lately, it seems like everyday you are learning new things.

You started out this month rolling over for Janelle, your babysitter.  You did it three times in a row, from your belly (which you have learned to accept a bit more) to your back.  She got it on video which is a good thing, since no one else has ever seen you do it.  It was as if you decided you accomplished that, so you were moving on to bigger and better things.  Which of course is spitting.

You discovered you can stick your tongue out of your mouth, and that if you blow out while your tongue is out, you can produce lots and lots of spit bubbles.

Also, it’s been decided by your Grandy and a few others that you are teething, and yes, in fact there is a sharp little tooth on bottom that we can feel.  And then it goes away.  And then it comes back.  Then it goes away.  It can’t quite decide what it wants to do.  It hasn’t bothered you too badly, you mostly are just chewing away on anything you can get in your mouth and slobbering a bunch.  Grandy wants me to write it in the baby book, but I think I’ll wait until I can actually see it.

 

Just 2 days ago, you rolled from your back to your belly.  It’s your new favorite thing to do.  Quite frankly, you are wearing your mama out with it because you don’t remember how to roll from your belly to your back.  So, you get on your belly, act mighty proud of yourself, think it’s fun for about 1 minute, then you start to fuss when you can’t figure out how to get out of that predicament.  So I put you back on your back, just so you can roll over, act proud, then fuss some more.  Back when I was a little girl, there was a “Say no to drugs” ad campaign.  I remember a commercial on TV of a man walking around the perimeter of an empty white room.  He would say, “I work, so I can make money, so I can buy cocaine, so I can work, so I can make money, so I can buy cocaine, so I can work…….”  Here’s my version of your commercial.  “Mama lays me on my back, so I can roll on my belly, so I can cry, so Mama lays me on my back, so I can roll on my belly, so I can cry……”  Yep, Emma Kate, that’s how we spend our days until I say “ENOUGH!” and put you in your swing for awhile.

You’ve had such a busy month.  You took your first outing with dad to check cows, and you went to your first ranch rodeo with dad and stayed out until 1:00 in the morning!!!  I’m sure those cowboys just couldn’t get enough of you! You also attended your first birthday party.

You have learned how to laugh and it is music to our ears.

Just today you discovered our cowdog Grace.  You’ve met her before, but hadn’t really noticed her until now.  She’s kind of a crydoggy when she gets all excited when humans are around.  Oh boy, you thought her crying was hysterical.  You were laughing up a storm at that silly doggy.  So of course we encourage it.  You love outdoors and animals, and I have a feeling your going to be a mover and a shaker.  Only time will tell as your personality peeks out more and more.

Emmer, (that’s what your daddy has taken to calling you, which is pretty neat since your Great Grandpa called your Great Grandma Imogene that as well), you are the light of our life,

the twinkle in our eye,

the jump in our jack,

the blue in our sky.

Today your daddy said you are probably the most loved child in the world.  There might come a day that you don’t feel loved at all, because we all experience those feelings from time to time.  Please know our love for you is big.  So big.  Huge big.  Bigger than Hog Eyes and Sauerkraut Mississippi.  That’s a game me and your grandpa used to play.  I can’t wait to teach it to you.

I look forward to this next month Emma, because in just 3 days, school will end and more time with you will begin.

XOXO,

Mama

Mother’s Day #1

I got a new camera lens for Mother’s Day along with a salad spinner ( my request) and a bouquet of flowers.

I spent the car trip home from Lubbock playing with my new lens, capturing images of J-Dub driving, EK sleeping, Ashy posing, and maybe an accidental shot of the dials on the dashboard.

Afterwards I reviewed the pictures on my camera and found myself scrolling back. Farther and farther back, on this first Mother’s Day, back through the weeks and months. All the way back to January 28th at 4:20 when the doctor tugged a crying baby from my bulging abdomen after a very long and difficult labor that ended with a C-section.

Then my precious, post term, 7 lb baby was whisked to the NICU where the premature, sick babies go.  The place where I was told when I could touch my baby, that I couldn’t nurse my baby, and where I felt completely helpless.

My heart is so tender remembering that day. I feel anger and I feel sadness all rolled together in a snowball of grief.

As I scroll back through the photos, I’m so thankful to remember.
To remember how tiny she was, how different her hair laid, how red the little mark on her nose appeared, how wrinkled her skinny little fingers were.

Oh my goodness how I love her.

How I miss her tiny newborn self.

How fortunate I am to have her.

Although I can’t take all the credit, being her mom is the best thing I’ve ever done, the greatest gift I’ve ever been given, the most important job I’ll ever have.

To all the mothers out there…….I finally get it.

And it’s incredible.