rohn two months old

I would like to come off as one of those totally lovingly-sad and sappy Moms who mourn the loss of their babies' newborn'ness but frankly Mama keeps it real and I just don't feel that way. Do not mistake me, I loved Rohn-newborn-version. And when he cried I held him. And when he was hungry I fed him. And when he pooped I changed him. And I never spanked him. So all in all I rocked that phase, but I was ready for a heartier child. Introducing Rohn 2.0. He's no longer a baby sized log laying in various areas of the house, now this log also smiles. And often times, its caused purely by the sight of my face and I love that because it makes me feel pretty.

Kidding.

But also seriously. A smile from Rohn right when I wake up has me feeling like makeup just isn't necessary... then I look in the mirror and realize his smile just lied to me... or maybe its just a smile and I'm reading too much into it.

anyway. My beautiful baby is two months old.

 

 

Do you see that smile? Lets just say, if he wants a car on his 15th birthday-- and not one of those janky fixer uppers his Dads gonna try and get him into, but like a new car with automatic locks and tinted windows... well if he keeps up that smile he just might get it.

 

Assuming of course, he doesn't develop an attitude problem.

rohn 1 month

Today is the ninth.

Tomorrow the tenth.

And therefor Rohn will be 2 months old in one short day and if I don't post this now it will fall under the eternally growing category of yet another thing I managed to NOT do on time... a thing which Mister Rohn knows alot about; he who arrived 3 days past his expected due date. And yes, I am still bitter about that and no I do not intend to stop nursing him 3 minutes late for every meal as retribution.

Fair is fair.

 

While I am still bitter about him making me wait those extra days to meet him, I must admit those three additional days in womb really straightened him out. I like to think of it as a long weekend in boot camp, with my uterus as active drill sergeant who released him only until she got all the kinks worked out. And boy did she ever, this baby is perfect.

 

.... although he does still poop. So, correction: he's darn near perfect.

 

Did you catch that bit about him being my best nurser? Don't make me smile, a good nurser has my heart. And that round baby belly... awwww lets not get me started. Obviously I love this boy and he is just the most almost perfect ending to our family growing era.

 

I cant wait to see what 2 month old Rohn is like...

 

... tomorrow. Oh the tiny benefits of procrastination.



false alarm... again

Rohn is over a month old now. It's strange to think it was just six weeks ago that I thought I was in labor. Of course an actual labor took place but the false one was so much more embarrassing.  I am ashamed to admit I was guilty of a false alarm... but in my defense that's progress. With Khage I was sent home twice with deceitful labors. Yes, two times a nurse had to look me in the eyes and tell my to buck up, shut up and come back when a baby is actually exiting my body. Obviously the dialogue was different but the message was spot on.

Hindsight, I should not have fallen victim to that final false alarm. I really should have known...

+ When you stop to get Jamba Juice before heading to the hospital... you are not in labor.

+ When you text a selfie to your Mom and sisters on the way to the hospital and mock a contraction face... you are not in labor.

+ When you walk into the labor and delivery ward and a nurse compliments you on how pretty you look... you are not in labor.

+ When you can happily participate in a labor inducing dance... you are not in labor.



+ When you can do multiple squats against a wall and think to yourself "my form is just outstanding right now"... you are not in labor.

+ When you can jog up and down the stairs taking two at a time while your husband hums the Rocky theme song... you are not in labor

+ If a triage nurse instructs you to walk around the hospital for an hour to induce contraction and you and your husband can happily enjoy that time spent together because to you any outing without kids is basically a date... you are not in labor.

+ But if you show up to the hospital in unwashed clothes, are loudly grunting and moaning, crying ugly, scared to death, demanding an epidural even though that goes against everything you wanted, and all the while wondering quite possibly if your dying and don't understand how not a single person in a room filled with people including the one man who put you in such predicament could not even care...

.... well, then you just might be in labor

...and then you can expect more ugly crying, but at least you'll have a beautiful baby to show for it.

he's here

(... and has been for some time.)

Last time I sat here to blog I had something hindering my ability to sit comfortably. But today I sit without impediment because that nuisance, our baby, has been born. I no longer get attacked from the inside the moment I stray from an upright ninety degree posture. Instead, said baby, rattles me from deep beautiful sleep multiple times a night, it demands all throughout the day to be fed exactly when it desires and with no concern for what I am doing at that exact moment, and insists that I keep it safe and comfortable all the moments in between. That baby... we call him Rohn Thomas, but he answers to nothing... comes with quite a bit of baggage. But boy is he perfect.

Cue birth announcement twenty nine days late...

Think of it as a test drive. We wanted to be sure we were jivin' before committing ourselves as his guardians for the next 18 years. It was stop and go for a while all thanks to the meconium and Rohn's insistence on showing it to us 6 times a day. But now that that phase has passed we are simply smitten with him.

Welcome to the family sweet boy, we love you without condition now that our sole condition has been met.

 

 

the picture request that warmed my heart

This photo is not going to win any awards. I am very aware of that fact.

It wont even get framed.

But darn if it doesn't just make me so happy. Its blurry as heck, all thanks to that sketchy two year old photographer. She can break into my password protected phone and wind up on a webpage that looks as if she's hacking into NASA, but jeezzzz if that girl cant take a decent picture. Either way, this pic is amazing and I get all gushy just looking at it. Hello pregnancy hormones, come on out and play.

I just cant help the fact that I love it so. Its bursting with happiness and its evidence of a rare time when Khage wanted to take a picture with me. Lets emphasis the with ME part because typically his request is that I take a picture of HIM as the follow up to me asking Harlyn to pose for a picture...

 

or he wants a picture of his overflowing pride at finishing his first lego build...

or a picture of him in deep concentration...

 

or a picture of him looking super fresh in the super cool super hero shorts his Nana made him...

 

 

or a picture of him strong arming his little sister...

 

... but never with ME and just because. So to you this picture is like totally not going to break the internet but to this emotionally unstable pregnant woman...

 

well, it does silly things to my heart.

camping with four

We just got back from camping... two weeks ago. Can I get a whoop whoop because this Mama is on fire and completely punctual with this post. Lest we forget I'm typically a month and a half turnaround kinda girl, so two weeks late is nothing to sneeze at. Also, I have a baby coming soon so this will not at all become a habit of mine. I have been rockin the procrastination since grade school, and have zero intentions of becoming one of those ontime over achievers. So expect this baby's announcement to arrive in your mailbox... uh... uh... oh ya, never.

Brad and I decided it would be fun to take one last family camping trip as a family of four. We thought unlike last time, maybe this time the kids would be independent and spontaneous enough to endure a few days in the woods without the comfy lifestyle they have grown so fond of, we thought maybe Brad could get some fishing in and we thought pregnant me would take to the woods like a natural bush woman.

We thought wrong on all of those counts.

Did I mention I was then 3 weeks from having a watermelon? Picture all 170 pounds of me squatting in the woods.

Better yet, don't picture that. Some thing's you just cant unsee.



And the kids... oh these kids. They just cant hang in the woods. They don't do well off a schedule, Harlyn is a klutz and that is just never a good combination with the outdoors because you know she'll probably end up falling off a rock and into the lake, ruining all chances of Bread actually catching anything. And Khage will down right refuse to poop in the woods, even if we fashion a makeshift bathroom out of a sheet. Then life gets extra fun when Mommy forgets to pack Harlyn nighttime diapers and were forced to construct one out of a tube sock and paper towels which just ended up looking like our toddler was sleeping in a giant maxi pad. 

 



Andddddddd it rained. Making it very clear that our tent is in fact NOT water proof. Good thing my man knows how to set up a dirty laundry/paper towel/blanket barricade... this guy's skills are truly never ending. If he could have fabricated me a potty perch, this pregnant bod would have thanked him greatly.

But hey, lets just paste some smiles on our faces and trick those nearby campers into believing that we are a family totally capable of roughin it. As far as those screams you hear coming from our campsite? Don't worry about those.



 Harlyn... forever classy.

And look, I was there too. Just parading about in my most stylish camping attire as of yet. Take special notice of Harlyn trying to outshine me with her ever so adorable toe tip. She may be wearing crocs but darn it if she wont try to chic 'em up.

Until next time.

countdown to baby e.t.a

I think I should probably walk away from the computer right about now, disregard this post and spend my time doing something more suitable like reveling in the silence that is my house. All three of the kids are sleeping, one still sleeping inside womb but I'm not picky as long as their all catching their required zzzz's. I still cant believe next week...ahem or a few days later based on past history... that I will have 3 children and my now quiet house will live no more.



It sounds like I'm complaining, but I'm actually not, just proper note taking on our current status. Status being: quiet house but anxious mommy because I couldn't be more excited for the up and coming chaos. While that may make me stupid, it also makes me just plain in love with these kids and what ever mood/emotion/tantrum they will throw at me once they realize they are getting moved on down the line. K and H, did I mention your no longer my favorites?

Love ya, but babies smell good. Like real good.

So here we go, count down to me getting my fill on being needed again. Read that as: the kids will probably fight over me... picture me smiling devilishly because I'm totally into that kind of thing. I just love feeling needed by these ever so needy spawns and that includes a new baby addition that will probably be the worst offender of all time. Seeing as babies never know what they really want and just seem to cry for the sake of hearing their own sound.

+ Maybe all the crying will force the mouse that has taken up residency in our home to move out. Maybe, but surely not. Considering, the other two kids do their fair share of screaming and yet it still insists on using our address as its main headquarters. Did I mention we killed this current mouse's cousin/friend/brother (could have been a sister because obviously we didn't investigate) last week. So its pretty clear we have a mouse infestation. Welcome home baby, I hope you like your new pet(s).

+ So this pictures is from a few weeks ago, I look exactly the same if you can completely ignore the additional pounds gained and regional swelling.

 

This may be the last of this pregnancy's photo series. I may not get around to taking another one because this particular wall is at a local park and therefor I am required by law to wear pants, and I try to avoid that as much as possible these days. So, maybe don't stop by unannounced. You have been warned.

+ My sisters and Mom threw me a little sprinkle for Roo last weekend. In case, like myself, your not entirely current on baby trends, a sprinkle is like a mini shower for second or third time mommies. And that came straight from babycenter so you know that information is legit. It was amazing, and fun and I was riding that happiness for a solid two days. Post on that coming soon. Or later.

+ My belly button has popped which makes me all the more anxious that labor is impending, but then I remember it popped like three months ago so that little fact is altogether worthless.

+ And lastly, my wedding ring still fits. I was forced into removing it early with my other two pregnancies so this just makes me feel great, like this fat bod is really just a figment of my imagination and the 30 pounds gained must surely be all baby. Hello, New World Record... I'll take my trophy in the form of a lifetime supply of diapers, thanks.

harlyn's two

There she is people, our baby girl in all her two year old glory.

 

Take it in, every last bit of her.

 

Sidenote: if I can teach you anything about my sometimes seemingly strange camera shots it is this: I'm not overly concerned with faces, I am in the market for all those other often times overlooked tiny details. Hence the reason 3 out of the 11 photos above feature her looking at the camera. Don't mistake me, I love her face too but I also adore her tiny ankles, the way her little hands are holding that flower, the side profile that shows off her protruding upper lip and the little bridge above her nose, the small dent at the back of her neck and the way I can never get her pigtail part straight because she only grants me 30 seconds to do her hair, or that way she crouches down with her little butt just an inch off the ground and the loving way in which she holds and cares for her so very precious babies.

These are the things I never EVER want to forget.  It's these little things that entice us to sneak in her room once she's asleep to lay one last kiss on the bridge above her nose, or the reason why we grab her hand just to feel its tiny weight in ours, and the constant excuse Brad and I have for meeting eyes and proudly declaring how adorable our daughter is.

If you need further proof, which I don't think you do...

 

Any kid this cute that likes cheese and farts on demand has my heart already.

And that cute little outfit featured in the series of photos from above was courtesy of world's greatest Nana. That was the first of many outfits Nana has now lovingly made for Harlyn, and I mean it when I say I love seeing my daughter dressed in something made by my Mother.

soccer season spring 2015

Khage's first soccer season has finally come to a close and honestly I am so sad to say goodbye. I'm gonna miss the way he crashed after a practice or a game, I'm gonna miss the quality time that we got to spend with Harlyn on a blanket in the grass while Khage was involved with his team but most of all I am going to miss watching Khage's confidence and skills grow with every week.

In most ways I am no soccer Mom. I don't care about winning because I am not at all competitive, but watching Khage get excited as he improved as a player had me wanting to ride up to that game with war paint on my face and hostility on my sleeves. I really wanted him to score goals and I sat secretly on the sidelines keeping score just so I could see his face when I told him later that his team had won. And if they lost... well I  conveniently forgot to mention it.

Maybe in some ways I'm just a soccer mom in denial.

But either way our boy did amazing at his first team sport. We had a slow start but eventually he got the hang of it and even scored a goal....

while it was in the other team's net all that mattered to us was that he took that ball down that field and walloped it into any ol' net.

And he was often times seen hugging his teammates so much that his coach was forced a few times to literally pick him up and move him to his proper position away from his friends to ensure his attention. And lets not forget the joy I felt when I could here him laughing clear across the field as he sat on the sidelines messing around with his team while he waited for his turn.

 

 

At the end of it all, I will count this season as a win in my book...

especially since they finished with a .710 winning percentage... fyi.

this ones a thinker

I would never dare say I was a smart child. I was definitely no idiot but smart is an adjective I am not convinced many used while pointing in my direction. Unless of course, they were referring to the kid directly behind me... then maybe that happened a time or two. I never played with a rubrics cube, started a conversation with "according to my calculations", and pizza party day was way more exciting to me then pop quiz day.

But Khage, some way some how inherited those genes... the smarts ones from the kid behind me. How ever did that happen? I'm still trying to figure it out. But Khage is one of those thinker types. At least for now, I can hardly speak for future Khage, but current Khage?... Boy be smart. Future Khage will have some big shoes to fill... except current Khage, in retrospect to future Khage - would be then known as past Khage and those shoes would obviously be smaller and therefor hard to fill purely due to lack of room... Buttttt I think you get my point.

In record time he has learned to identify the complete alphabet in lowercase, a large portion of uppercase (which I have not spent anytime at all teaching him), all of the letter's sounds and has already attempted a few stage one books. But that's not even the greatest part of his genius, my favorite thing about this boy is his ability to hear something once, like the word extinct (as in the dinosaurs) and lock it away for his future use.

While I am his main teacher as of yet, I can hardly take credit for his educational excellence. It comes down to 2 simple things: Khage is a question asker and a memorizer. He is so very curious about everything and it typically takes him hearing something only a few times before it clicks... unless of course were referring to him and his need to wear underware, then that requires constant reminding. Also he loves exploring the world so much he has used the wildlife magazine subscriptions that Nana got him to expand his vocabulary with words such as nocturnal, anemone, prey and instinct. He also stays well informed by exploring historical and current events by delving into Nation Geographic (the grown up version). He has become quite fascinated with the Titanic disaster, being able to describe a play by play of the ships collision with the iceberg up to its crash on the ocean floor.

 

Can I remind you that he is only 4 years old.

And a total perfectionist, so if he fails to meet his own high standard of expectations he pushes himself even harder. Making Brad's and my job a heck of a lot easier.

 

... and true story he just asked me yesterday if I would buy him a rubrics cube and we all know that to be a very clear indicator of ones intelligence.

I know this from experience... or lack there of. 

mommy victory #67

In a home complete with a playroom full of toys my small liter chooses 9 times out of 10 to seek out the "learning cabinet" in search of crafts and educational like materials.

I cant help but add this to my list of mommy victory's... after teaching Harlyn the hand motions required to beautifully perform Little Bunny Foo Foo but in front of someday teaching one of these heathens how to wipe their own butts. Because that will happen eventually, right? Like maybe before elementary school or for sure these kids will be voted least favorite by all of their teachers.

What I am trying to tell you as I briskly go off topic is that they enjoy playing with sandpaper letters, writing to-the-best-of-their-ability numbers, and expressing their creativity through shoddy works of art over the gazillion of toys that occupy this house. To me that has the basic equivalency to them passing on a handful of candy and begging instead for a head of broccoli. Knowwhatimsayin?

And I beam over this every time it happens... although by the end of it there are usually stickers stuck to the floor, Harlyn is probably walking around with marker lipstick applied jankily, Khage has had at least one meltdown because Harlyn snuck a Dot Art stamp on his project and I'm stepping on globs of glue... but you know who cares about all that. Its the journey that counts. The incredible creativity expressing sibling craft bonding time journey. Afterall glue does wash out of hair and fingers can grow back...

Eh... fingers. Who needs em'.

potty time... the travel series

Because I am one of those totally prepared Moms, says the same woman who never has baby wipes with her and has to always bum them off other Moms/strangers in moments of need, I like to keep a small kid potty in the back of the Tahoe for those days where Harlyn will downright refuse a public bathroom. I like to think she's a clean freak and the germ infestation corroding public restrooms is more then she can handle but girl is nasty, like find random straw off the ground in the parking lot and pop it in her mouth nasty, so lets rule that out immediately. She's just wishy washy and cant fully commit to the idea that not all public toilets are automatic flushers attempting to suck her up and rid her from her ever loving Mommy.

And I do love her. But, more so when she's not doing this



No, that is a whole new low, even for her; using the travel potty while potty seat is located on leather seat in the back of the vehicle while said vehicle is parked in our driveway and there is a completely clean, automatic toilet free zone for the taking. To me this seems like an easy one, but then again this IS Harlyn were dealing with. She stripped down and did her business, both uno and dos and with total and complete pride because after all it happened not in her romper.

As a mother, I choose to pick my battles and for this she earned my praise.

Could have been worse... I know this because it has been before. Alotta times before.

And high five to the kid sitting right next to the Nasty Nast completely comfortable reading a book. Barbaric, these ones. Their parents should be proud.

ding ding ding

There's a little problem with dinner time at my house. Its not the strain of cooking night after night, or even the pile up of dishes that I can manage to dirty in a single meal preparation... no, its the company.

I hate eating with these people.

Correction, Brad isn't a bad dinner partner. He could stand to use his utensils more and fingers less... but I practically, and sometimes literally, lick my plate clean so who am I to judge on table manners? But, eating with my children. Ugh. Worst.

Proven by the photo below.
One on timeout and the other passed out.

Its like they hate me and love to prove it during dinner time. I'm not talking like they fight me on their vegetables... oh they do that too, but they also fight me on everything else.

And forget it if I baked a casserole... that scenario goes a little something like this:
*boxing bell sounds, Mom puts on oven mitt boxing gloves and approaches her opponents.
Son throws first blow, ew, whats in that?
Mom blocks said jab and goes straight for the gut, nutrition and you need to eat all of it off your plate!
Daughter comes in as Son's back up, uckies.
Dad throws in kitchen towel before the fight gets dirty...

And don't let those delinquent masterminds above fool you, Khage's gut appears to be huge like he ate a massive amount of dinner... he didn't. Beer gut is just his normal body shape. And Harlyn's tray looks clean as if she devoured every last morsel but instead it remained spotless all throughout dinner only because Brad was spoon feeding her as she alternated back and forth between being shaken awake and the REM cycle.

See what I'm dealing with over here? And lets not even discuss the mishaps, shenanigans and complete food related nonsense that I must endure during breakfast and lunch, all in the sake of nutrition. Am I a bad Mom if its fruit snacks and string cheese from this moment on?

Don't answer that.

baby roo | week 22

For the sake of the record keeper I am actually 24 weeks at this exact moment. Its also 3 pm and I am still in my pajamas if you wanna get real thorough about it all.

Really, as long as your out of the first trimester weeks don't truly matter anymore. Sized like a banana, pineapple, or carrot... they all seem to be relatively similarly sized so either way I'm confused and not entirely sure why we keep comparing my baby to produce. The only reference I ever understood was the "watermelon" sized fruitage being pushed out of my body during birth, because I can unhappily attest to that.

Can I just brag a moment about how good I am feeling right now. So good infact I think I may have gained energy with this child. I haven't been sick a smidge, I am constantly running around and haven't yet felt the need to slip it into neutral. I think I could honestly be pregnant with this baby forever. Throw that back in my face in 16 weeks when babies 4 days past due. "It" also moves around all of the time so I get that extra little piece of mind that Roo Baby is happy where it's at as well. For those of you who have suffered through tough pregnancy, don't punch me just yet... after all I have already gained a solid 16 pounds and counting and lets not forget I'm just at the half way mark. My goal (and previous pregnancy's weight gain) of 25 pounds doesn't seem to be at all likely this round. What I lack in discomforts, I gain in weight. Your welcome.

Look at those kankles. I'm sorry their not sorry. I wish they were.

 

Here's another shot a few days later, incase you found those undefined ankles too distracting. Concentrate instead on the whole squinty eyed family. Eye balls get lost on the smiles of the faces. Deal with it. I know I have to.

 

can everyone just open their eyes please

- were trying.

 

yada yada yada

 



See you in a few weeks when I am busting out of jeans and my flip flops start feeling tight.

happy and he knows it

I must be running a pretty happy household, it isn't every home I'm sure that a child wakes in the dead of night to bust a gut... like full on belly laughing while simultaneously sleeping. And the real shocker is that it wasn't even the obnoxiously happy child that is Harlyn. It was Khage... the miserable one. The one who has been known to continuously label each and everyday as "not fun".
The one who is often times found to be loudly proclaiming how boring his life it. But it was he who woke up laughing like he was at a comedy club and every punch line was fresh and completely hilario.

Strangely enough, I initially thought he was crying. That's how hard he was cracking up. His outlandish giggling reached a point of laughing so hard that your almost crying but stopped short of the point before you pee yourself. I checked.

And a week later my gloomy guy was at it again... and again with no recollection of what uproarious thing he was dreaming about.

All I can say is that deep inside he's not as unhappy as he claims to be.
Way down.
Down.
Down.
Down deep he's giddy about his life and he knows it.

Caution, video will remain annoyingly dark as it was close to midnight and I was not about to turn the lights on and risk waking up the during-the-day-happy one. Not to be confused with the other: midnight-happy one.

THE DAY WE WALKED 7 MILES

Today was magic.
It was beautiful.
And entirely just what my heart needed.

Don't get me wrong, we did have a beautiful magical day of family time and love but it still wasn't all puppies and ice cream cones. Harlyn still threw her typical massive turd sized tantrum because she hates being cooped up in the stroller, Khage was annoyingly torturous to her because after all she was within arms reach to him and his sister-pestering-hands, the hat that I was wearing tried on numerous occasions to leap from my head to which I can only imagine was due to my poor decision to skip a shower that morning... or maybe it was because of the wind, and Brad's back still hurt because frankly his back hurts most of the time... so it definitely had its glaring areas of gray but all that aside it was still incredibly perfect.

Let me describe this day in detail. For the incessantly bored at heart feel free to skip it.

We left around noon and went out for lunch. Brad even made it a point to bring along some ColorWonder for their strollering pleasure... excuse me while I fan myself, nothings hotter than an overly prepared Daddy.

Ahem.

Anyway, we ate Mexican food on the patio and because apparently people don't like the outdoors we were blessed with an entirely empty restaurant patio all to ourselves. The kids played, hardly ate a lick of their food but hey totally alright because ya know more for me, and we enjoyed the breeze and sunshine.

From there we agreed to walk. Just walk. Anywhere. Around town, under overpasses, through brush, under train tracks, past fields, to Grandma and Pompa's house, and all the way back home. We walked for miles, over seven, equally more then 5 hours... which yes that works out to like an abominable 42 minute miles but speed wasn't our primary goal. We just wanted to walk, explore, see new sites and soak in some family time.

Sometimes whenever we are together, just the 4.5 of us I get overwhelmed by how much I love these people. Most of the time I thank God, but other times I thank myself for having the clarity over eight years ago to recognize Brad as my better half and the link to this wonderful life we have made together. Soul mates are for saps, and I am surely no sap, but I am so glad that I met him precisely on that day, in that distinct parking lot at that specific grocery store and that he is this particular kind of man. The kind of man who says yes to my random request for family time disguised as an aimless stroll around town.

These blissful days of nothing but family love are few and far between. Life happens; laundry needs folding, dinners needs made, and butts need wiped. But when family day does happen, I think the love between Brad and I and these wonderful little crying and fighting people we have made is heightened to a place of blissfulness and purity.

...okay, maybe I'm a little sappy.

And a total sucker for a sleeping baby.

And although Roo isn't here taking up space in the stroller or sending sleepy drool down my left arm, this bundle of love deserves attention too.

Oh how this bump makes me smile.

And small shoutout to Farmer John, whom I hope wasn't too perturbed by me stomping all over his livelihood. My bad, FJ. My bad.