Welcome Back... in such a big way.

Oh my! Its been over a year since my last post. What happened?!

   Well for starters, life. Life happened, and it was insane. We hit a rocky patch in our marriage, we lost a baby. We fought like hell for our marriage and we were rewarded for it. We took on remodeling our kitchen, we rearranged almost every room in our house, I was in a wedding, we decided to try for another baby, and we were blessed to conceive a month after. I convinced Ian to let me get a kitten, who is the most snuggly little thing ever and I adore her. We learned a lot in church, we decided to make some life changes, we refinanced, we re-evaluated and we re-grouped.
   And here we are. And by here I mean... I am 7 months pregnant with baby 4, we are almost prepared for Harvey to come, Our marriage is stronger and better than ever, we are embarking on an entirely new chapter in our lives and we are just simply excited. And with all of the new changes we decided that Reha needed to finally be medicated for her anxiety. New baby's can be stressful for dogs, and so can the absence of the family. The cage is a stressful environment for her as it is and after trying just about everything we could, medication was the last resort and we had finally hit rock bottom. So I scheduled the appointment.
   This morning I woke up, took Ellie to preschool, returned to retrieve the dog and headed to a new vet for a behavioral consult. I felt prepared. I thought ok, we have done everything else... we have tried the herbs, we have tried the thundercoat, we have tried the exercise, we have tried Benedryl, we have tried the anxiety desensitizing. And nothing. . she's still destroying her cage, she's still panting and shedding, she's still breaking out of the house if I leave.. even to go to the bus stop.
   BOY was I UNPREPARED for the answer I was about to get.

   So the vet discussed what we had done, offered some advice, got us the number for a behavioralist and prepared me for what that would bring.  And then she did a physical examination on Reha... and asked me a question that totally turned my day  UP SIDE DOWN...


                                Who told you this dog was a girl?

   Um... excuse me? What do you mean?!?!

   As it turns out, after 3 separate vets in her lifetime, and multiple examinations, my female Doberman is in fact not a female at all.. but instead a hermaphroditic male. What we were told was a benign tumor, is a partially distended testicle, with the other testicle remaining inside, undropped. The "penis" is small, located in the traditional vagina area, and surrounded by what appears to be a vulva.. The penis does not come out, as is customary with boy dogs, and appears to be painful, also indicative of hermaphroditic animals, and once we have HIM neutered we can have the vet see if there is also an actual uterus, making him a full hermaphrodite. The absence of a uterus would make him a Psuedo-hermaphrodite, meaning genetically he is all boy, but that the sex organs developed in a feminine way.

   The vet was very confused that 3 different vets before her had examined Reha and none of them discovered that she is in fact a HE. But this does go to explain some of the issues we have had, like why Reha has never entered a heat cycle.. hint hint... its not because of the anxiety as we had been told. And the presence of a uterus would further explain some of the behavioral issues as the dog has some serious hormonal issues going on. 
   So here we are... 4.5 years of having this dog and we find out today that we have a boy dog. The poor thing must have some serious identity issues going on. But we did leave with some Prozac and hopefully that settles the issue of the anxiety. In the meantime we have some serious adjusting to do, as I learn to call my girl dog a he.

   Let's just say explaining that to the kids was interesting ....

The Cleaning Fairy

  Dear Children &Husband,
                       Let me tell you a story of a magical being.
 

   A long, long time ago in a land not so far away a beautiful fairy was born. Every fairy is born with magical powers, and every fairy has a beauty just her own, but this particular fairy was made for a special reason. Growing up she was carefully trained in her craft. It was a very important trade, you know. And while her work was sometimes tiring it was always worth it when she saw the finished product. With just the right amount of fairy dust she finished her work with pride.
   This fairy took great pride in her work, and one day she met a lovely prince. Not just any prince you see, but the prince. The prince that would make all of her fairy dreams a reality. They fell in love very quickly, and while everyone around them thought they were crazy they just knew that they had to be married.
   The fairy continued to work on her trade, and soon she became very tired of doing the same thing over and over again.. but the prince assured her that it would all be worth while if she held on just a little longer. Shortly thereafter came the most beautiful baby. He was certainly every thing the fairy had dreamed of since she was a wee girl. Her craft became harder and harder to keep up with, and soon along came another beautiful baby. By this point the fairy was trying her best to maintain all of her training, and to reward her ,the prince bought her a castle.
   It was not the castle of her dreams, but it was just right. Not too big and not too small and it came with all the things the fairy wanted.

          And along came another baby and a huge dog and the fairy realized her fairy dust well was all dried up.. So she resorted to a glass of wine and some Blue Bell Ice cream.
               Clean up after yourself from now on..and don't ask me to share the ice cream.

Ready... Set... Don't Go.

James,
   As I sit here tonight, less than a month after you turned 5, a birthday you looked forward to for 364 days, I am reminded that tomorrow is my last day with you before you are officially a school ager.
  And I would be lying if I said I was not the typical mom bawling her eyes out. For the last 6 years I have thought of you every day. I watched as month after month only one line showed up, and then when there were finally two I waited for your first kick, I counted the times you moved inside my belly. My heart skipped a beat listening to yours at the doctors, and I obsessed over every detail of your arrival.
  As a little girl I always knew I would be a Mommy. I knew that I would have babies, and I knew that I would nurse them from my body and nurture them from my soul. But I never could have imagined how amazing it would be. I had heard the sound of a baby's giggles but nobody told me that I would hear them with my heart when they came from my own child. No one could have ever prepared me for the ache I would feel the first time you were hurt, and again the first time your feelings were hurt by another.
  Since you, I have birthed 2 more beautiful children, each with their own set of troubles, achievements and experiences. Each of them have touched my heart in a way that I never could have thought possible, but as the first I get to go through a lot of things with you. Your first steps were also my own, and your first day of Pre-School last year was the first time that I had ever entrusted someone else to teach my child on a regular basis. To love my child, to care for them daily. But somehow it was ok. I shed no tears, and I was confident that you would go and have a great time. I knew that I would not be sad, so this year kind of snuck up on me.
   On Tuesday, as I am surrounded by our family and watch you climb on the bus for the very first time I am sure now that I will cry; that your Daddy will have to stop me from changing my mind, from driving you to school just to keep you mine a little longer. But not because I don't think you are ready. Because I am not ready to share your beauty with the rest of the world.
   You may be small, James, but you have one of the biggest hearts for people that I have ever seen. It touches me every single time I hear you pray for your friends. It inspires me every time I watch you forgive and forget the way that I should, but sometimes can't. It moves me each and every time I watch you hold the door for a stranger, or share something with someone who doesn't have the same as you. It warms my heart every time I hear you talk to your sister when she is scared and remind her that Jesus lives in her heart and there is no reason to be afraid. It chisels through my anger every time I look into your eyes and see the smile that comes from the center of your being and reminds me that no matter how rough of a day I have had, or doubts that I have let creep in, that I have all of the things that I wanted so deeply out of life.
   I have love, beauty, the gift of being a mother, the blessing of being loved by others, I have little eyes that admire me and little hands to hold and keep safe. I have a home, filled with laughter and tears and screams and meows and barks that are all part of a beautiful life that I have been Blessed by God with, when I didn't deserve it. I have Forgiveness and Grace and Dreams.
   Thank you for being everything I ever dreamed of, and nothing I ever expected. Thank you for calling me Mommy, and loving me when I don't do everything right. Thank you for teaching me that its ok to not be perfect, because without your innocence and unconditional love I am not sure I would have been able to accept that lesson.
   I promise I will be ok by the time you get home from school. I will be there waiting for you with a smile on my face and eager ears to hear all about your day. So go forth, touch the world with all of the amazing gifts that you have to offer and never ever lose sight of what makes you such an amazing person. Never learn the fear of praying publicly, never accept the lies that others can feed you and always, always, always remember that you are special, you are unique and there is nothing wrong with that. There is nothing wrong with being who God made you to be, He made you with a purpose, and I have no doubt that you are going to fulfill that. Thankfully it is up to Him, because if it weren't I would keep you safe in my arms forever.
   Happy First Day of Kindergarten Little Man. I can't believe the time has come to pass so soon, but since it has I will open my arms and embrace this new season of our lives... Just don't question the van behind the school bus, or the brown hair peeking out from behind the light pole.


                      I love you.
                        Your Mama.

Bye Bye stuff.

   Have you ever just walked around your house and realized that you are just surrounded by things?
That is where I am at right now. I know that we have had a lot of one-sided conversations about my overflow of items. There is always a mountain of clothes of varying sizes throughout my house, and a bazillion dirty dishes that I am still amazed actually all have a place. But the problem is that lately I have found way too many things in my house that actually don't have a place because all the places are full.
   JT wants to learn to swim, and while we have been taking him to the pool every few days to work on it (he gets so busy playing he will only dedicate about 5-10 minutes a pool session to actually learning to swim, which is honestly fine with me because I have 2 other kids to keep my eyes on) I occasionally get the urge to tell him to go dive in the toy room and practice. It's kind of the best of both worlds- I don't have to watch him, he cant drown.. suffocate via stuffed animal avalanche perhaps, but no drowning, and he still gets the concept of pushing things out of his way in order to get to the other side.
  There have been more crying sessions than I would like to admit over the sheer amount of accumulated CRAP, as well as  few fights that go something like this:
   -UGHH THERE IS TOO MUCH CRAP IN HERE!
   - So throw some of it away.
   - Like WHAT? I USE all of this stuff, we just need a bigger house.
   - No you need to learn to not keep everything.
   - What are you trying to say? You think I am a hoarder? Oh NO! Those Hoarder Marathons are starting to rub off on me! I can hear their voices in my head. I agree with them.. My stuff is fine, if we just get rid of all of yours it would be great! I'm Doomed. I am just going to live in a mountain of items for the rest of my life.

  This is generally where Ian tells me I am ridiculous and walks away. But the scary part is some days I actually think that.. If Ian just didn't have so many clothes I would have this whole closet to myself.
   So it stops here. I wish I had thought of this sooner, but since I didn't I will start with where I am at.
I am attaching a slew of pictures of my house. The Great Thomas House Purging of 2014 has already begun, so pardon some of the mess and overflow of furniture, but welcome to my overstuffed home. Please keep me accountable to getting rid of things... and pardon the mess.. This is a Construction Zone, and my life is in a state of redevelopment. Out with the old, and in with the basic necessities.

Please meet my kitchen, home of 40 mugs for one coffee drinker, and too many things on the counter.

 Next up we have my laundry room, complete with last years Christmas decorations, and my downstairs closet, home of all the random things we don't know where to put. Oh and the dog food.

This happens to be the one area of my living room I really have a problem in. I try to keep it clutter free, but it just gathers all the things we need to put out of the kids reach and the things we don't want to lose.

Here we have JT, I think he will go in the keep pile. Although about 50% of the things you see behind him will not be joining him. Sorry toys, I would like to take back my life.

Here we have the upstairs. Porter's room contains so many clothes that I can't close the space saver bags. There's the too small bag that I have to go through, the too small bag of things I am keeping, the too big bag, the fits but is totally wrong season bag, and the laundry bag (and pile) of things that have never made it into the dresser for me to know if they fit or not.

 

And lastly we have the Master Bedroom. The most work has been done in this room recently. The real "Before" Picture was a lot scarier than this. I have already removed 2 bags of give away, a paper box of random knick knacks and a full bag of trash from this room, Oh and a desk. If you had been looking at this room 3 days ago you wouldn't know we had carpet because of the sheer amount of clothes.

 

So now that I have laid all of my dirty laundry all over this blog (literally if you look at the laundry room pictures) I am going to let you know my motive.

 I always say that I am getting rid of things, but I always chicken out. Here I know that I have readers who will ask me about it. And since any of you that happen to come by only see the downstairs, not you will know what my upstairs looks like, and why we don't venture up there. Keep me accountable ladies and gentlemen. I need the organization so that I can function. Otherwise this house turns into my black hole. I am meant for bigger and better and nicer things than what is in these pictures and I am tired of letting the  accumulation of material possessions hold back my plans in life, and suck away the precious minutes.

 

If I have not given you any updates in a week hound me. Seriously. text me. blog me. call me out on Facebook. Whatever you think I need.

 

Until then... I am off to put that Kuerig to use. Send Coffee. 

Trials of Baby 3

  There are certain things you expect about becoming a mom. The up all night, the snot, the diapers. By the time you are pregnant for your second go-round you think to your self- OK I have this. the hardest part is that now there are 2 of them.
   But that's so wrong. Its more that you are now a mom to 2 beautiful kids that are completely different. The way they sleep is different, when they eat is different. What they think is funny is different. So by the time number 3 rolls around you are pretty prepared to be a first time parent again. Learning the ins and outs of a new baby, of a new toddler, of a whole new human.
   Don't get me wrong, you are aware that the mechanics are still the same. You change a diaper the same (unless you are going boy to girl of course- Front to back people, front to back) You are going to start feeding solids around the same time, you are going to have to keep buying clothes etc. The advantage is you can kind of use the same equipment over and over again. That stuff is expensive.
   For me, they were all fairly easy babies. Ok that might be an understatement. Ellie was the only one that really gave me any sort of trouble right away. That kid (not as if you can tell from the looks of her now) refused to eat for 5 days. We were force feeding her by syringe every time she opened her mouth to cry. Then she just preferred Ian. As a stay at home mom full of hormones please try not taking that personally. . .( cue the "My baby hates me" fits and tears.) By day 5 we were back in the hospital for her overnight stay. It was terrible, but once we got on the right track she was good to go.
   My babies sleep through the night fast. By 2 months they are on a schedule of what time they wake up at night and by 6 months at the longest ( ELLIE!) they are sleeping through the night for about 11-12 hours. Not much for crying, unless something is wrong. But man-o-man, once the walking starts we are talking majorly different children.
   JT was my clingy baby. Just wanted to cuddle, wanted to climb the DVD shelf and tear them all down. Wanted to pull all the toys out and take a nap on them. Ellie was my into everything baby. Bathroom sinks, she cleared out the cabinets, played in the dog water, dipped my kitchen towels in the dog water, she loved to pull out all my cleaning supplies and hose down my house. Porter is my thrower. He likes to climb the stairs too, and occasionally dog water swim, but, throwing is his specialty.
   For instance, he likes to throw the remote off the couch so that he can get the batteries out. He likes to throw toys to hear them clank together. He likes to throw food off his tray for the dogs to eat, He likes to throw things at us because our startled reactions amuse him, but my FAVORITE thing he likes to do, is throw things in the toilet.
   Nothing brightens my day like having to stick my hand down in a toilet bowl full of poop because Ellie never flushes and Porter thinks that's where all things electronic should go. If it has batteries and the bathroom door is open you are in trouble.
   Today I lucked out and it was JT who had left the bathroom door open, but the fun ball toy that you hold a button down while it shakes your whole body; yeah that doesn't work any more. SO far the toilet has claimed a few similar toys and nothing important. Once there was an action figure hugging a turd. That was an especially unfortunate day, but some gloves, a few gags and smuggling the poop hugging toy in the trash and we were good to go. Porter just laughed.
  At this point I have let go of getting mad about it and chalked it up to a sort of Natural Selection, or Survival of the Fittest: Toy Edition. I mean I am always complaining that we have too much junk, why not let the kids decide what they don't need anymore, without any rationalization from me.

   Maybe next I will introduce him to his fathers clothes, and we can finally get some color introduced.

on days like today.

   Some days I feel on top of the world. Like I really have this whole mother and wife thing down. Like this is obviously what I was meant to be doing, and you know what? it's really not that bad. Today is not one of them.
   Today I feel like I am just barely keeping my head above water and that I probably raised my voice a lot more than I should. That maybe the best way to deal with getting smacked in the face for the 50th time today by the screaming, teething, snotty, refuses to keep his diaper on baby that got woken up by his older siblings who refuse to keep their voices down or stop running up and down the stairs and hallway outside of his room during nap time, was not to scream and smack him on the hand.
   Perhaps the best reaction to getting irritated that my husband has to work until after bed time for the 3rd night in a row despite telling his boss that he needed to be home, because I had somewhere to be, was not to go on a rampage and start throwing things in the trash and in the closet because I tripped and am sick of looking at them.
   Maybe I could have found a better way to deal with my poor attitude and plain exhaustion from having to clean up after a house full of people and pets. Maybe I wouldn't even be in the mess if I had just gone to the store yesterday like I should have and gotten the groceries I needed and the creamer for my coffee. But.. that didn't happen because I procrastinated and didn't prepare the way I should have, and since the rude ladies in the grocery store I have kind of been avoiding that trip, as if running out of food in my house will prevent people from being down right mean.
   Maybe I just need a long hot bath and some mommy time. Maybe I just need a maid.
   Today, I don't feel like I am in control of my house, I don't want to play mommy, I want to play Stacey.. the girl who used to procrastinate until the last minute, but still manage to get things done. the girl who had time for friends and family and enjoyed her job. The girl who loved school and found time to scrap book and finish projects that she started.  I want to play the dream person that I thought I would be, the one who actually put clothes away and knew which pile was clean and which was dirty. The lady who would do crafts with her kids and had fun summers planned and didn't make her children cry. Not the lady who walks through the house on bad days and can almost see the steam coming out of her own ears at the lack of respect for expensive things, and the inability for anyone to put things away where I ask them to go.
   Today I don't want to answer the same questions over and over and over... And I second guess telling the pregnant lady I met last week that 3 is easier than 2.. because today I feel like I lied to her. You know what's easier than 2? A cat.
   And the worst part is that when I sneak to my bedroom on days like today I tell myself that there is no reason to be like this. There is no reason to feel this way, because I am so blessed. I am so in love with my children and my husband and I appreciate his job because it allows me to do everything I had always wanted when we first married. There is no reason to let the little things bother me, because at the very worst tomorrow is a new day and I don't have to live in the past, I just have to strive to be better than the day before.
   On the outside though... being a mom is hard any day, but its really hard on the days when you are having a hard time keeping yourself together, because then you have to wonder how you are affecting your children. And you always want so much more for them. I don't want them to see the really awful days.
   I want them to remember that I love them. So while I am here sulking in my miserable day, still without a van, and a car that now only has air in defrost mode on a nearly 100 degree day, I am hoping that your day was not like mine. And I plan on sitting down in my gross, carpets need cleaned, walls need wiped, what is that smell house as soon as my children are finally asleep and reminding myself that today is over, and I can't achieve the greatness I was meant for by letting the devil win today. I am better than that. Even on the crappiest of days I know that, and since today is one of those... the least I can do is move myself forward a millimeter, because even a victory by a thread is a victory, and I am a winner, even if my eyes are puffy in the morning. Because at the very least my children can remember that.

Fathers Day

   In honor of Father's Day I wanted to end out a huge Thank You.

   Thank you to the men in my life who have been a great role model. Who have taught me what a great relationship looks like, who have helped me when I wasn't strong enough, who have shown me what Faith is, who have believed in me when I didn't believe in myself.
   Thank you to the men who are in my children's lives that show them guidance when Ian and I are not there, who raise your children to be strong, courageous and filled with Faith and Love for God.
   Thank you for being father figures, for teaching Ian and I how to have a healthy marriage and relationship with God.

   I have a fantastic Daddy. He has always been a role model for me, I have never wanted him to be disappointed in me, or angry. I have spent my life trying my hardest to make him proud to call me his daughter. He did the absolute best that he could with the hand he was given, and I have to say that I don't think there is anything more he could have done. We never went without, we never wanted for anything and we sure had a lot of fun. I pray that I can be as fabulous of a parent as he was.
  Today is a day to celebrate Dads, and even though not all of the men in my life are fathers, they have all had an influence on my life in one way or another. So when you are sending out your Father's Day greetings, remember to thank the ones that cared for you even when they didn't have to.


   Happy Father's Day to all the men reading and all the men in the lives of you ladies. Sometimes they can be a little bit of a pain, but they are still pretty fabulous. Now.. go eat some bacon... who doesn't love bacon?