My prayer for Sam.

Dear Lord, 

Exactly two years ago, I was hours away from going into labor, and experiencing the greatest gift You had ever given me. Samuel Alan has blessed my life in more ways than I can count, and I thank You and praise You for him today and everyday.

I thank You for his health. He's been sick less than a handful of times in his two years on this earth, and never anything serious. He has grown and developed just as he should, and I will never take that for granted. I ask for Your continued blessing over his health and development. I ask for You to touch his body and help him to grow and thrive. I ask You to protect him when we can't. Guard over him, and keep him safe.

I thank You for his sweet personality. His friendly little self just makes my heart burst. Watching him become his own person has brought me so much joy. I ask that You help us to shape him; to discipline him when necessary, while giving him room to be him. Help us teach him and guide him, while enjoying the unique individual that You created. 

I thank You for Mike, and everyone else in Sam's life that loves him. But especially Mike. I am so thankful he has such a wonderful, involved dad who's wish is to raise a son who loves Jesus. He's surrounded by good people who love him. I ask that you continue to place people in his life who will be positive influences on him. Give him plenty of friends, teachers, and family who will point him to You.

I thank You for blessing us with everything we need to meet his basic needs and then some. I ask that You can guide us to a life that will always keep food in his tummy and a roof over his head. 

I ask for Your constant guidance over us, as parents. Give us patience when we need it. Give us wisdom in situations where the right answer isn't clear. If we succeed in anything, let us succeed in raising a kid(s) who knows You. If he has You, he has everything he needs. 

I thank You and praise You for Sam. Mold and shape us to be the parents You would have us be to help raise him into the man You would have him become.

Amen.  

Busy doing nothing.

How does time go by so quickly? Lately I've been a bit on edge. I cried in wal mart the other day. In wal mart. 

I'm not even sure what I'm so frustrated about, but I feel like if you were to give me a metal pole, I could bite it in half. An then throw it at you.

My sweet son is turning two next week, and we are having a party for him. Now, I am very laid back about birthday party's... Those Pinterest-y type moms carving their own decorations out of beach wood and ordering penguins to swim in their pools for the occasion is just so NOT me. A happy birthday banner, some balloons, and a cake will be just fine for me kids, thanks. Yet I'm still stressing, because we have family flying in, a house full of people coming over, and lots to do before the party. I have a list of like 12 essential things that must get done, and I think we've crossed off two of them. Perhaps I should cross off "clean off front door and put up a fall wreath" from the list, considering just getting rid of my massive laundry pile alone is going to take a miracle. I feel I've had a productive day if I manage to brush my teeth and put on a clean pair of  yoga pants.

(If you're confused about why I need to "clean" my front door, you obviously don't know where I live. But that's a story for a different day. Suffice it to say, it needs cleaning) 

Anyway, I'm stressed. I want to have things a bit more "together" than I do. 

Luke doesn't nap longer than 45 at a time. He still wakes up at night, too. I often feel like I finish taking care of one of their needs, and the other one starts up. 

I'm feeling a bit drained. 

At the end of the day, I know I'm lucky. I have a husband who loves me and two healthy kids. I have everything I need and most things I want. I am really not complaining. That would be whiney and childish and greedy. Which I'm not. At all. Ever. 

Brotherly love.

One of the things second time moms are most afraid of is how their older child will react to New Baby. I was no exception. I stayed up at night worrying about Sam feeling jealous or slighted in any way. I forced his squirming body close to me and snuggled and kissed him and held back tears at the thought of my baby being knocked off his "baby" perch before he was even two! How could I do this to him?! I tried to tell myself that giving him a baby brother to laugh and fight and play with was giving him the greatest gift I could. But I felt guilty. It didn't help that every single person I'd ever met in my life asked me if I was worried about Sam's reaction with a knowing, sympathetic nod. Like, oh you poor woman, you'll have to spend so much for his therapy after he's tossed to the side and neglected at 20 months old.

 I tried being perky and optimistic. I'd say, "Oh not really. I'm sure it will take some adjusting but I think it's going to be great!" Then I'd go home and cry. 

After New Baby finally came, it was pretty much the first question everyone asked. 

"So how's Sam doing with it?" 

"Is Sam ok?" 

"I bought Sam something, too, so he doesn't feel left out." 

I actually started feeling bad for Luke. It was almost like he got lost in the shuffle of everyone's hyper concern for Sam. When people came over to meet Luke, they'd end up leaving me by myself with a sleeping newborn while they laughed and played with Sam. I mean, I get that Sam can walk and talk and play while Luke just nurses, sleeps and poops, but he still deserved a little fawning himself, didn't he? 

Sam has truly been fantastic with Luke. I think he is too young to understand that he's not the "baby" anymore. The older they both get, the more he starts to love him rather than ignore him. The past few days I've moved Luke's bedtime up to 730 or so. Last night I put him down while Sam and Mike were still outside, and when they came in Sam was a bit distraught over his missing brother. 

"Wuke? Wuke? Wuke night night?"

It was pretty sweet. Luke has also started to take notice of Sam. Whenever his big brother is in his line of vision, he stares in fascination. 

This morning, Sam was eating breakfast when I got Luke up for the day. 

His eyes lit up when he saw him. "Hi Wuke! Hi!!" 

Then he spent the whole morning down on the ground by him, just hanging out. 

 Watching them this morning truly made my heart melt. I am so excited to watch them actually play and interact as Luke gets older. 

Im sure 6 months from now when they're both crying and fighting over the last cheerio I'll need to be reminded of a simpler time, hence this post.  

Tomorrow might bring harder days, but today is pretty sweet. 

Bath and Bed.

I just got done with the "bath and bed" routine. It took 4 hours. 

Ok, not really. But I went from dinner, to cleaning dinner, to bath and bed for Luke, straight to bath and bed for Sam, with no breaks in between. It was tiring and my mood was not the best. Some nights, this routine goes off without a hitch. My babies are laughing and happy. I giggle with Sam about splashed water, and whisk into the clean kitchen for a fresh towel to wipe it up with as the dishwasher hums quietly in the background. I do not wrestle him to brush his teeth. He gives big hugs and kisses and says, "night night dada and Wuke" at least ten times. Everyone is smiling and relaxed. 

Tonight was not one of those nights. 

I was rushed and annoyed. Luke was tired and hungry a bit before what would have been a convenient time for us. I had to nag at Mike and Sam to hurry up and get in the house at least 5 times before they actually came in. Sam was a bit whiney, and I snapped at him when he splashed in the bath. I wasn't in the mood for the fight he put up to stay in the tub. He screamed as I pinned him down to brush his teeth. Dishes sat in the sink and toys sat around carelessly as I walked into his room for bed. I just wanted to toss him on his bed and quickly retreat to my own bedroom, possibly with a glass of wine. 

But then.

Then, as we closed his door and turned off his lights, he sighed. He actually audibly sighed, and laid his head down on my shoulder. My heart softened and I just kind of held him. He then started slowly singing our nightly bedtime song, "Jesus Loves Me," in my ear and my heart melted. I forgot all about our rushed night. I held him close and cherished the feeling of his little body in my arms. I slowly said our prayer and really thought about every word. I asked him for a kiss and then "another," which he thinks is hilarious for some reason. He giggled and kissed me again and again. I felt blessed beyond measure, and guilty for my bad mood. I put him in bed and tucked him in. He has started the habit of saying "cozy" when I do this, which I find absolutely adorable. I kissed him goodnight and left the room, only to trot ten steps over to Luke's room. I watched his tiny chest move up and down and heard his sweet breath. It's probably post partum hormones (do you still have those 3 months later?) but I practically teared up. I restrained from picking him up, and instead tip toed out of his room. 

I still feel guilty for my crappy attitude I had all night. 

Thank God for little toddler sighs and sweet baby breaths to bring me back to reality.

 

No air conditioning

Seriously, how do people live without air conditioning?!  Well, minus people that live at the beach. They can all bite me by the way.

Our ac went out yesterday morning. So it's currently been a day and a half, and I'm near death. Its 95 degrees out. The boys and I are hanging out in minimal clothes (Sam insisted "shorts off" today. I dont blame him) in front of fans. I live in a small-ish town with not a lot to do, and I only have one other friend who stays at home with her kids - and her whole family is sick. So that leaves us trapped in a sweat box! The night wasn't so bad, we opened the windows and it cooled down nicely. I swaddled Luke in a thin blanket and in only a diaper. I actually think he was cold by the middle of the night. 

Anyway, all that babbling to say we're miserable over here. Too hot to get anything done, so Im doing a lot of this: 

Help!!! 

Back at it.

It's been a long time since I've blogged. I could bore you with all the reasons why, but instead I'll just say life has gotten in the way. But I'm back! 

Life is as busy as ever now that I'm a mom to two boys under two! By the way, this is going to be a mom blog. My life pretty much revolves around my two sweet babies. 

Sam is my almost two (can he really be almost two?!) year old. 

 He is just full of life and mischief and personality. He's friendly and funny and has the sweetest little heart. He likes planes and cars and tractors and all things boy. He's a fan of Mickey Mouse (aren't they all?) and woody from toy story, and taking his shoes on and off all day long. He adores his baby brother and is a huge daddy's boy. I love it most of the time. Maybe 10% of me is jealous that he looks at me like I'm chopped liver after his dad walks in. But really, watching them together melts my heart and fills me with true joy. That's why only 25% of me is jealous.

Luke is my 3 month old. I didn't know if my heart was capable of loving another child after my first. I know all second time moms think that, but it doesn't really help to hear that it's normal. I was sure I must just love my first baby more than everyone else does. Enter Luke. My heart grew and I am beyond smitten with this smiley little guy! 

He is such a good baby, thank God!! He's mellow and content, albeit active and not a great napper. He laughs and rolls and stares at his big brother. 

 

I am blessed beyond what I deserve. I stay home and spend all day loving on my boys. Or just trying to keep them alive. Whatever. 

I still learning how to do the mom thing. As soon as I have something figured out, it changes on me. My only constant is keeping Jesus at the center. Constant as in, I don't change my mind about it. Not that I always succeed. I've figured out that I'm going to need a lot of Jesus to deal with my two under two day in and day out. A lot of Jesus, and a lot of coffee.