It's been a minute.

It's been some time since I've written. Most likely nearly two years or more. You know, just a hot second.

But I kind of miss this. Sometimes I look back at my past blog posts and think... "Wow, I had forgotten how that felt". It's a nice nod to the past for me. It's like a journal that someone else may be able to take something away from, and that makes my heart happy.

So, whats been going on in my world?

A lot. Kind of an actual crap load.

*ahem*

Ian is FIVE and is now in KINDERGARTEN. Vanessa-Kate is THREE and is in PRESCHOOL. When did that happen?! Ian is still a funny kid. He's a jokester, and he loves to laugh and be silly. Vanessa-Kate is silly in her own way, but she's a sweetheart. She's quiet, sweet, and kind hearted.

Toby is still working at the same company. But he now does work that he really and truly loves. He works in social media and he loves every minute of it. We are very blessed that he found his way into such an awesome company where he has been able to grow and flourish.

And me? Well, I did it. I went to Nursing school. I worked my behind off for several months after I graduated with my business degree and completed all of my Nursing prerequisite classes. Then I applied and was accepted into the program a little over a year ago. As of December 17th I will only have ONE semester left before graduation. Assuming everything goes to plan I will sit for my boards this May. I love nursing school and I love working in the clinical setting. I have had tons of wonderful experience and I cannot wait to start working.

Other random things; we bought a house (not sure if I was still blogging then), and we have two tiny fluffy white dogs named Trooper and Zeke. =)

Hopefully I'll write again soon.

Lazy Day Saturday.

The kids and I have just been hanging out, playing in the living room, and watching tv on the couch all day. It's been a while since we've all taken a day to just stay home.

You'd think that as a "stay at home Mom" (that term almost seems hilarious to use to describe me) I'd be home most of the time. The truth is, I'm never home. I'm at school, I'm at the park, I'm taking the kids to their grandparents, I'm at the store, I'm at the Doctor's office, I'm anywhere but home. Most of the time I really enjoy being on the run. But I have to admit that I need to spend a little more time at home because...I don't remember the last time that I cooked anything. I literally never cook. We eat out or at one of our parents homes. It's sad and a kind of humiliating. Haha...kind of.

But today, we're all just cuddled up on the couch. I've spent most of the day exposing my poor children to Teen Mom 2 and old episodes of NCIS. Tis a good day. =)

Meant to be.

A crazy thing happened today. The kind of thing that gives you that "holy crap that was totally just meant to be" chills.

A couple of months ago we adopted an italian greyhound named Peanut. I've always wanted an italian greyhound. At first things were good. We had been told that she was an easy going, family friendly dog when we adopted her. The reality is that she was nervous, which is common among her breed. But this was over the top. Even after quite some time in our home she still cowered to the floor whenever Toby was around, though he had always been gentle with her. She was so nervous that she was afraid to tell us when she had to go out, even though she was previously house trained. This led to me spending a lot of time scrubbing the floor.

So, with a heavy heart I posted an ad on craigslist explaining the whole situation. I was hoping to find some help from an Italian greyhound rescue. I was hoping that maybe someone more experienced could help me work through her behavior. But if not I was going to rehome her to a quieter home, possibly with a single older person.

Then the universe set things in motion.

I got an email from a woman nearby who was Peanuts original owner. I recognized her name from her paperwork. She explained that she had been posting ads for several months, desperately searching for her dog. Another woman remembered her ad when she saw mine, and connected the dots. Apparently the person who rehomed Peanut to me did not have permission to do so. Her real owner was on vacation. When she returned, the woman said that she couldn't remember any of my information. Her owner was heartbroken.

So, today I met the woman in a parking lot in front of Buy Buy Baby. She cried like a baby when she saw her. I may have teared up a little too. I was sad to let my dog go...but was she really ever even mine? I'm glad to have reunited two old friends. Maybe there was a reason that she didn't fit into my home.

Tonight we are dogless. But I actually feel good about it. =)

That's the way it is.

Well, I finished up Summer Quarter.

I can honestly say that if nothing else, I actually learned a lot. I feel like I've actually retained a lot of the knowledge that I gained. I worked my butt off. I studied like crazy. I got the highest grade in the class.

...and I still got a B+.

I guess it's time to look at the positive; I learned a lot. I'm trying hard not focus on the negative. But, I'm moving on to Organic Chemistry now, and it seems as if my new professor has a stupidly easy grading scale, so I'll walk away with an A. Easy.

I've really been enjoying school these past couple of months. I really look forward to it. It's nice to have a sense of personal accomplishment. And I'm really looking forward to entering the work world again in the next few years. But I'm so glad that things worked out the way that they did. Do I suggest having kids so young and then going to school? No. Way. It's hard. But I've really been blessed. I've got to take the time to raise my children without having to work. I have the joy of spending every day with them. I've also been blessed to have an amazing supportive family that has allowed me to continue my education to work towards my dreams. I've got a hardworking husband who is out chasing his too (full time work, full time school!) and we're buying our own home next month. For me, things are just right.

So, I'll shrug off that B+, and move on to some more good stuff.

A quick thank you...

Blessed. I'm just so very blessed.

Wonderful loving husband, beautiful sweet kids, a caring supportive family, and a comfortable roof over my head.

I just want to take a moment to thank God for all of the things he has blessed me with. I could have never imagined that my life could be so full of great things.

I'm getting rid of baby stuff.

I've spent the last week or so getting rid of stuff. I've washed car seats, cleaned old clothes, and picked melted fruit snacks out of the crevices of many things...all because it's time.

I've spent a lot of time struggling with this decision. What is worth keeping? What isn't? Am I even going to have any more babies? The honest truth is...I don't know. But I do know that I'm not having any more any time soon. So, I'm selling, donating, and pitching stuff left and right.

The whole idea of never having children again terrifies me a bit. When I think that I may never experience all of the joy that comes along with having a little person inside of me growing, I want to cry. I loved being pregnant, I really did. I love pretty much every part of it. I love the kicks, the big belly, and the constant feeling of love, excitement and anticipation. If I thought that I could handle it emotionally, I would carry other peoples babies for them. I loved being pregnant. The thought of never giving birth again even makes me sad. I had such a positive and uplifting experience when I delivered Vanessa-Kate. I can't imagine never holding my own fresh, newborn baby again. I can't image never having that "Look what we just made!" moment in the hospital. I want to breastfeed again after Vanessa-Kate. I'm not ready to give up all of the amazing experiences that come along with creating a new life. But...none of those are good enough reasons to have more children. Do I want more...or am I just sad to be leaving the phase of my life behind? I suppose that only to future can say.

However, in some ways I am relieved to feel somewhat certain that I am finished having children. One reason is that now I feel like I can focus on my career goals. I don't fear that working of my schooling to eventually become a midwife will have a negative affect on my family anymore. After I had Ian I knew that I didn't want him to be an only child. I also knew that I would like my children to be relatively close in age. The question of when we were going to have another child loomed over many of my decisions. I feel at peace with that now.

Then there are times when Toby and I slip away for a couple of hours, just the two of us. Then I start to imagine what it might be like to enjoy the company of my husband without babies and toddlers who need constant attention and supervision... and that seems pretty nice. We both love every moment of raising our babies, but we do miss having a bit of quality time to ourselves.

The fact is, I don't know the future holds for us. I do know that we have to wonderful children whom I look forward to watching grow. I know that we both want to focus on finishing the schooling that will help us to reach our own personal career goals. Maybe we'll be a family of four forever. Who knows? Maybe we'll be at a point in our lives five years from now where another child will be the right choice. As for now though...I'm getting rid of baby stuff. It breaks my heart a little bit, sure. But in some ways, it feels like a new beginning. Like everything is just starting.

All sorts of moments.

Each morning Ian climbs out of his bed at the crack out dawn and says to me "I want cuddle jusssst a minute". Each morning I let him in, knowing that his idea of just a minute will last until we choose to get out of bed for the day.

Yesterday morning I couldn't go back to sleep after he got in my bed. I laid there holding him, thinking about how big he felt. He used to be a tiny baby that I could curl up in my arms towards my chest. Now he's so big and long that he tucks his head under my chin and tangles his legs up with mine. I was sitting there enjoying the extra cuddles when I had the thought;

How much longer do I have left to get these cuddles?

He's two and a half years old now. How long do little boys ask to climb in Mommy's bed for cuddles? Until they're 5? 4? Please don't tell me it's only 3? I sat thinking "Do I only have a year to a year and a half left of this?!" It will never be enough. What am I going to do when he doesn't want me near anymore? Doesn't he know that he's supposed to be my baby?

And then I relax and think that this is just another reminder of why I try so hard to savor what I have with my babies. They don't need to be rushed. We need not to get angry or frustrated when they need us, even if it does seem like they neeeeeedddd us every second of the day. Because someday, I'm going to want it back. I recently read that it is important to remember that you are not raising and inconvenience, you are raising a child. I think that we all could try a little harder to remember that most of the time.

When Ian's tugging at my leg while I'm doing the dishes, or running around and playing when I'm trying to get his coat on, or being loud while I'm trying to watch tv...I just stop and take a moment to think about how important these moments are. Just like cuddles, we only get so many baby moments. Toddler moments. All sorts of moments. I'm so glad for all of the moments that I have experienced so far.

A work in progress.

Recently I have become very aware of the motion of the world around me. As each day passes I lie down at night and think of each day; what did I do? What parts are going to stay with me? What was important...and what wasn't?

I like to think of myself as a work in progress. Ever changing, ever growing, ever evolving. Over the past few years I have made great personal strides. I try my best not to judge others, and to always choose love over judgement and hate. I'm accepting people for who they are, not who others want them to be. I'm counting the blessings and positives aspects of my life, and letting the wants and the negativity fall to the wayside. I'm teaching myself patience. I'm trying to create a more personal relationship with God rather than a blanket of blind belief. I'm trying to raise good, loving, caring, open-minded children who know that they are loved, cared for, and supported above all us. I'm trying to be a student, a mother, a wife, a friend, a daughter, a sister...

But I am not perfect. I am nothing but a work in progress. Each day I work on something new. Right now my focus is to be present with my children. To really be present, as in being in the moment when I'm with them. I'm not wishing a single day away. I can honestly say I don't mind the terrible 2's temper tantrums, or the 6 month growth spurt whinies because I know that all too soon they will be a distant memory that I hold close to my heart. It all goes so fast. I just want to remember. I want so badly to remember.

I've been trying to remember Ian as a baby. It was just two years ago, but so much has happened since then. Sometimes it feels like another lifetime. I don't think I took enough time to just take the time and just be. Just to sit and be with him and think of nothing else. And now...I don't remember him as well as I'd like. I don't remember what it felt like to hold him. It breaks my heart. I'm praying that the memories will return. But, from here forth, I'm being present.

I'm imperfect. But I'm a work in progress. And that feels pretty good.

Worst parenting fail yet.

Today was a normal day, for the most part. We had our little fits to deal with here and there, the baby cried a bit because she was hungry, there were naps, there were cuddles, and there were cartoons on the television.

Then I took Ian out with me to go shopping. We made a trip to the chiropractor and then headed to the Dollar Tree. We were going so that Ian could pick out a small gift for everyone all by himself. It ended with $25 worth of junk...but the cuteness was worth it.

Anyway, Ian has been going through a difficult stage lately. Call it the terrible two's. Most days I do a pretty good job of shrugging my shoulders and letting his outrageous little fits. Sometimes I feel like I'm just trying to make it through the day so that I can get a little break. But most of the time, I'm just happy. But we have our moments.

Back to today; We had just finished our shopping and everything was getting a bit hectic. I had brought Vanessa-Kate in the moby wrap since they have super small carts. Half way through the store she got hungry and I had to take her out to nurse her. So when we went through the checkout line I had already unwrapped the moby and was carrying her in my arms. Ian was standing just on the other side of the cash register by the gum ball machine asking for "a money" to get a gum ball.

I told Ian I didn't have any money. Meanwhile the cashier gave me crap about paying with a Mastercard (even though they accept them) like it was some sort of inconvenience on her personal time. ::Shrugs:: I gathered all of the bags in the cart and went for the door.

And that's when the meltdown of 2011 happened.

My son started to SCREAM and throw himself down on the ground. Now I have a baby in one arm, a large diaper bag over the other arm, a very strong 2 year old laying on the ground screaming, and a cart full of bags and my purse. All the while, everyone in the store is staring at me like I have two f'ing heads. One lady gave me the meanest look. She acted like I had thrown him on the floor or something. You all may remember me posting about how I try to be supportive when I see mother's in the store going through situations like this. I try my best to give an understanding smile, a nod...something. I'll hold the door, carry a bag, anything to help...because I've been there. A screaming child doesn't mean a bad kid or a bad parent; it just means a bad day most of the time.

But no one in the store moved a muscle...except the ones they used to make their disapproving frowns. So I try to pick him up, and he throws himself harder on the floor. I then use the shopping cart to push open the door (since no one can be bothered to open it, even though several people are standing next to it) and start to drag my son out of the store, hoping and praying that he will decide to stand and walk.

We reach the edge of the sidewalk. I plead with him to stand. He refuses. My cart goes over the edge and is now making it's way across the busy parking lot. Greeaatt. So, I bend down to pick him up. He's now flailing his arms in legs and hanging out of my right arm. Vanessa-Kate is slowly slipping lower and lower down in my left arm. Her face is bunched up because she's slouched so low. I look down at her and feel so badly that I want to cry. But in order to scoot her up I would have to drop Ian in the middle of the road. So a trudge on.

We reach the middle of the road. I hear a crashing sound on the pavement. Shit. My phone. It now lays on the pavement in 3 pieces. There are now two cars, one coming from each direction, waiting for me to cross the street. I put Ian down, asking him to stand. As I bend over to pick up the pieces he throws himself on the pavement. I can't pick him up at this point without dropping the baby. I'm royally screwed. I, again, pull him screaming about gum balls for the next 10 feet.

I reach the grass median area where my shopping cart has stopped. I am parked 3 spaces away. I leave it there. I put a teary-eyed, broken hearted Vanessa-Kate into her car seat. I fight with it to get him into his. I start the car since it's only 25 degrees. I got back for the cart, load it all in the back, shut the doors and just let him cry for a minute while I stand outside in the cold. I didn't know what else to do. I just stood there, feeling the cold air go in and out of my lungs...doing anything I could just to try to find a bit of sanity.

After a few short minutes I get back into the car. Ian isn't screaming, but is now fussing about wanting his boots on. I assume he took them off when he was throwing a fit. Whatever. I've cracked. I turn on Christmas music loudly and sing "pennies from heaven" over his tantrum. And you know what, I felt a little better.

My point is, we all have these days. This has been my worst in a while. My head is pounding, and I just want to go to bed. Part of me would like a very strong drink. But, sitting here right now I can tell you that it's all worth it. It really and truly is. But...I can't wait to get through this tantrum stage. Most of the time he is an awesome kid...but goodness he has a temper. Parenting is not and exact science. We all are just hoping that we're doing the right thing. Did I ever think that I would literally have no choice but to drag my child through a parking lot? No. Hell no. Did I do it today? Hell yes. *sigh* Here's hoping to doing the best we all can.

Today, I am thankful for my family;

“A baby will make love stronger, days shorter, nights longer, bankroll smaller, home happier, clothes shabbier, the past forgotten, and the future worth living for”

When happiness meets sadness.

Tonight, I held both of my children. Vanessa-Kate slept sweetly in my left arm. He breath was quiet, but audible. Her little lips keep twisting into a crooked smile. Ian sat quietly in my right arm, stroking my thumb nail and watching the television. His left hand softly held Vanessa-Kate's hand.

It was one of those moments where happiness meets sadness.

Do you ever have those moments? It's not that I'm actually sad, in fact, I'm quite happy. It's just conflicting emotions.

Happy to be living such a beautiful moment, but sad that you know just how fast this time will pass.

Happy that you are holding them, but sad that you don't get to spend more time doing just that.

Happy to be making the memories, but reminded of those that have already passed.

And, while it's not truly sadness, feeling that solemn happiness that is so happy that it makes you cry. The kind of happiness where you watch you sleeping child and suddenly, without your permission a tear runs down your cheek. Where do those tears come from, and why do they always seem to sneak up?

I suppose solemn is a good word to describe what I'm feeling, much better than sadness, because I am not sad. Not even a little bit. But, so filled with happiness and deep, heart-wrenching love that it makes me want to cry.

As I held both of my children tonight, Vanessa-Kate in my left arm, and Ian in my right, I cried...just a little. I thought of how deeply blessed that I am. I felt a great sense of God, and all that he has given me. There is such heartache in the world...and such pain. But somehow, I am surrounded by these two beautiful babies that he has blessed me with. And I get to spend every. single. day. by their sides. I don't take that for granted. I have known too many mothers who don't get to experience that. So many mothers who don't get to hold their children because they are no longer here on earth. And yet, God has given me two, and for this I am so grateful. It is these kinds of thoughts that go through my head when happiness meets sadness.

It is nights like tonight when you can fully feel how fragile life really is. Here one moment, and gone the next, for all of us. It's moments like holding both of my children, Vanessa-Kate in the left arm, Ian in the right, that makes life worthwhile.

Why having a toddler is like being at a frat party...

The Top 10 Reasons Having a Toddler is like being at a Frat Party:

10. There are half-full, brightly-colored plastic cups on the floor in every room. Three are in the bathtub.

9. There’s always that one girl, bawling her eyes out in a corner.

8. It’s best not to assume that the person closest to you has any control over their digestive function.

7. You sneak off to the bathroom knowing that as soon as you sit down, someone’s going to start banging on the door.

6. Probably 80% of the stains on the furniture contain DNA.

5. You’ve got someone in your face at 3 a.m. looking for a drink.

4. There’s definitely going to be a fight.

3. You’re not sure whether anything you’re doing is right, you just hope it won’t get you arrested.

2. There are crumpled-up underpants everywhere.

1. You wake up wondering exactly how and when the person in bed with you got there.

(found here)

#$^*%#@@#!!!

Oh. my. good. lord.

I am tired of all day headaches and daily migraines.

I wish my back would stop hurting.

I'm irate that my car took a crap on me last week.

I'm even more angry that the part to fix it had to be ordered from out of state.

I really wish my kid would stop screeching at me.

I hate that I am having one of those days where I just want to scream "shut up and go to sleep!"

It breaks my heart to spend time being frustrated with him when we have so little "us" time left.

I hate that I'm suddenly as big as a damn house.

I despise that I can't stand in one place long enough to do my dishes that are piling up.

I'm pissed that I don't have dishwasher.

I don't want to have to ask my husband, who is working a lot of hours, to do the dishes for me.

I'm annoyed that I'm having actual painful contractions these days.

I wish I wasn't growing out of my maternity clothes.

I hate that I was late paying my rent, simply because I have no clue what date it is.

I don't want to pee 50,000 times per day.

I want to go outside and scream curse words until I feel better.

It's just one of those days, right? Things will be better tomorrow...right? Huh?

::sobs::

Damnit, damnit, damnit.

A long and busy weekend.

Friday morning we all woke up and walked down to the diner to get breakfast. Ian loves to diner because it's the one place that he gets to sit in the booth all by himself like a big boy (no booster or high chair), the seats are shiny and glittery, and they bring him giant plates of delicious fries. Plus, he makes lots of friends there. It's a great little hometown place, even if the poor poor sign above the entrance says "Main St. Cafe : Family Dinning". Thankfully, Ian cannot read yet.

Then after Daddy headed off to work we did the laundry. Then we drove to the other side of town to go the The Flower Factory to look for some baby stuff. If you've never been there, you should go. It's wholesale, and it's darn cheap. You can score some amazing housewares and decor there for next to nothing.

While we were out shopping we got the call that we would be able to attend my little brother's high school graduation. He goes to a technical school (he's in the building trades program) and they only get 4 tickets to graduation. So those tickets naturally went to my parents, his fiance Jessi, and his son Aiden. But at the last minute we came across some extras. Grandma, Ian, and I made the 1.5 hour trip from the west side of Columbus to Newark in less than 45 minutes just to make it on time. Sitting on the bleachers nearly killed my pregnant ass, but I was happy to be there. School has been such a struggle for Joel all of his life, even moreso since the challenges of becoming a parent almost 2 years ago. We were all so happy for him when he walked across the stage. He was happy too.

Afterwards we all went out to dinner together at Tumbleweed. Deep. Fried. Corn. Mmm.

Then on Saturday we spent family time. Toby, Ian, and I lounged around the house until about 1:30. It was amazing to just re-lax. Then we decided to take Ian to get some frozen custard at Whit's (the most amazing custard ever) and he enjoyed it immensely. He got to eat his own big boy cone by himself. He looked so big. I can't believe how big he has grown. Also, I have never seen a vanilla cone bring anyone so much friggen' joy in my life. He kept laughing out loud and smiling. It dripped all down his chest. We decided that we would have to take him home and bathe him before heading to the park. Melted dairy products covering his body mixed with 85 degree weather at the park would be a nasty combo.

Then after he was all cleaned up, it was off to the park. He played, and he played, and he played. He made Daddy push him on the swings, and he climbed the ladder to the slide all by himself. By the time we made it back home, Daddy and I were exhausted from the walk. I told him that it was acceptable for me to be out of shape, because at least I can blame it on being 31 weeks pregnant. He's a skinny man. He has no excuse. =)

Did you know that sticking you lip out and throwing your arms makes you run really really super fast?

So we ordered some pizza. (Yes, fries, ice cream, and pizza all in one post. It was a healthy weekend, okay?). We spent the rest of the evening hanging out at home. It was a wonderful day. Seriously.

Sunday we had family pictures/maternity pictures done. Ian didn't cooperate well at all. But we got a couple of good ones. Not thrilled with them though.

Then we finished off the day by eating at BJ's Brewhouse, and with a little bit of shopping at Old Navy. We walked out with a new maternity tank top, a v-neck shirt for Toby, and a "big brother" t-shirt for Ian for $14. Yay for Memorial Day Sales eh?

Toby spent the rest of the night hanging out with his friend Mario here at home, while Ian and I cuddled in bed and watched television. Ian started running a fever and getting sick. So we holed up in the bedroom (the only place with a.c.) and watched Sister Wives. He was sick enough that he didn't care what was on the tv. He just wanted cuddles. I felt horrible that he was sick, but the cuddles we wonderful.

Monday morning I decided one a.c. unit just for the bedroom wasn't working. I also taught Ian to say the word "pool" so that he could call Mamal and say "pooolll" over and over again so that she would feel guilty enough to open it this week. We went and bought a new a.c. Then spent the rest of the day hanging out at Toby's Mom's house. We had some truly delicious chicken and corn on the cob. Mmm, and fruit with dip. It was one of the first days that it felt like summer for real. It was a really nice day. Monday night we installed the new a.c. and it was bliss. Ian went off to my grandparents for the night. They bought him a new swing set for their back yard and he was through the roof about it. I spent the rest of the night hanging out with Toby and working on some finals for school.

Prepare for cuteness.

Have you prepared yourself? Because this is cute, like...uber cute. And I can't believe that I have forgot to share it with you until now:

Last Sunday, at our family Easter, Ian got to meet a teeny-tiny. And he loved it. He soaked it up like a sponge.

Don't get me wrong, he has spent plenty of time around little ones. Friends of ours have a little boy who has just turned one, though he has always seemed younger because he is a tiny guy, and he has always been very good with all of the littler babies at the indoor playground at the mall. But this was a teeny-tiny. Which is my obnoxious way of saying newborn.

This particular little guy goes by the name of Michael and he was 5 weeks old at the time, weighing in at just 7lbs and 3oz. Which is 1 lb, 5 oz short of Ian's birth weight so we all enjoyed getting to see such a tiny little guy. He was so very handsome.

Ian immediately was interested as soon as the baby came in the door. He got to hold him soon after. He softly stroked his little head, and inspected his tiny ears. He marveled at his tiny feet. He even stuck his finger in his mouth only to pull it out and ask "...Teeth?" with a puzzled look on his face. But he really soaked it up. He wanted to sit and hold the baby all day long. I couldn't believe how naturally gentle he was with him. It made me want to tear up a little. I could just picture him with Vanessa-Kate soon. I pictured him holding her and stroking her hair (yes, I've decided she has lots of dark hair, go with it) and playing with the little frilly bows on he headband.

The whole time this was going on, Ian was sitting in my Moms lap holding Ian and the baby. When she passed the little guy over to me Ian started whining. I thought "Here we go, here's the jealousy that I was expecting". But to my surprise, he was whining because he was mad that I was holding the baby and that he was not. Totally different kind of jealous.

I'm sure that we will have our challenges once Vanessa-Kate actually arrives, and I'm sure the jealousy will set in soon enough. But this just gave me a glimpse of all of the sweet moments ahead that will make it all worth it. Ian is such a sweet and loving little boy, and I can't wait to see him hold his little sister for the first time. We're getting close enough that I am actually starting to be able to picture the moment. =)

Little Joys for a Toddler.

I never imagine that this raggedy old shirt would make anyone as happy as it makes my beanlet.

It's old, bright yellow, basically see-through, and it has a big monkey on the front. It also shows the writing backwards and the monkeys butt on the back (which is ironic since it's pretty much see-through for real). It's also the worlds most comfortable shirt. Toby and I fight over who gets to wear it when it comes home with the clean clothes.

But the best part of this shirt, is how overthefreakingmoon happy it makes Ian. When he's sees that I have this shirt on he runs towards me and starts jumping up and down saying "Mimi, Mimi, Mimi!" Which translates to "Monkey, Monkey, Monkey!" in Ianneese. Then he sits in my lap, strokes my shirt, and talks about the monkey for what see

ms like an hour. He will do this several times throughout the day.

Then, over the next few days he expresses his disappointment that all of my shirts don't have monkey's on them. He will poke my chest and say "Mimi?" in the saddest little voice. He makes his big blue eyes even shiny than usual. He pouts, and he makes me feel bad about having such a lack of animals in my wardrobe.

But it's a really really great shirt. Seriously, everyone agrees.

P.S. Yeah, I know. I look hot with icky hair and no makeup. Ha.

So much change.

I know it's not "flashback friday"...but I can't get this out of my head. Can you believe how much these boys have grown? They look like teeny-tiny baby dolls in this photo that was taken on the day that Ian came home from the hospital.

And now...

This.

*sigh*

Where has the time gone again?

Happy and fulfilled.

I've come to realise something; I have chosen the right path for me personally, and being just a stay at home mom is nothing to be unhappy with. In fact, it's the word just in that sentance that bothers me the most. I'm not just anything. Stay at home moms, myself included deserve so much more than that.

Isn't it strange how society has come to such a turn around? Don't misunderstand what I'm saying, I am very thankful for the womens rights movement before my time and all that it has done for me today...but at what point did a women become less of a valuable member of society, less of a person, when she made the decision to stay at home with her children? Since when is raising the future generations of the world an invaluable thing to do with ones life? We give teachers, loving daycare providers, and nannies loads of respect for doing what they do. But as stay at home moms, do we not play parts of all of those roles? What...is it the lack of money that makes being a stay at home mom less respectable than working full time at a daycare center or a school? Money isn't everything, and frankly, being a stay at home mom is a responsible financial decision for many of us.

I chose to be at stay at home mom. Actually, let me clarify; our family, all of us, decided that I should be here with the kids. Being a stay at home mom doesn't mean sitting around smiling at your child and playing games all day. It means managing a household. It means running all of the errands, handling all of (or most of) the finances, doing the shopping, planning everyones appointments, making sure everything is scheduled, cleaning, cooking, and keeping home a home. Making the home a place that isn't filled with stress, rather, relaxation and happiness. But the most important parts of being a stay at home mom are being there for all of the little moments. The giggles and laughs, the first steps, the first words...all of it. I am so very blessed to know that I will witness these moments with my children, not someone else. I am so blessed that my son knows that every night I will tuck him into bed and I will pick him up in the morning. He knows that he can always rely on his mommy. I wouldn't change that for anything.

This quote has been very popular for a while now, and it was said by Lady Gaga.

"Some women choose to follow men, and some women choose to follow their dreams. If you're wondering which way to go, remember that your career will never wake up and tell you that it doesnt love you anymore."

While I see a lot of wisdom in this quote, it also rubs me wrong in so many ways. I feel as if we, as women, have started scrutinizing ourselves too much when it comes to our careers. A career is a wonderful thing, and I have no problem whatsoever with working moms, and working women. In fact, that's great. However, I feel like as women we have started to put career above all else including family. This quote makes it seem like a women can't have a man (aka, a husband) and follow her dreams. The key part here is finding the right man. The type of man who is husband material and will be there to support your dreams, whether they be owning your own medical practice, or raising children. Let's be straight here, and I think that both stay at home moms and working moms can agree; You're career will never wake up and tell you that it doesn't love you anymore, but it also won't wake up and tell you that it loves you and that it's glad that you chose it. As women we have the ability to "have it all". Just because you do or do not want a career, doesn't mean that having a family can't be important to. It can be.

My point is, I'm proud to do what I do everyday, and I don't feel shamed by society at all. I know that what I do is just as important as what lots of working people do. I know that I made the right choice for my family, and mostly that I am happy and fulfilled, and no one can convince me any differently.

Reflections of Motherhood.

I really enjoyed this video.

It made me stop and think; what would I have told myself?

.Trust your heart.

..You have never known such love.

...Keep the faith.

....Enjoy every moment, even the ones where you are worn down.

.....It really does go fast. Too fast.

......Things change. Never ever say never.

.......You are so much stronger than you know.

........No one is ever really ready.

.........There is no right way to parent. Perfection is outrageous.

Tomorrow is a big day.

...and I'm a big mess.

Tomorrow morning is the big ultrasound that we've been waiting on. At 12:45 we will have a 4D ultrasound performed by a doctor who specializes in Maternal-Fetal heath, followed by a consultation about what the ultrasound shows. I am so thankful to be having this done at a hospital that has a wonderful department full of professionals who specialize in high-risk cases.

I just can't help but feel like I am about to hear news that I really don't want to hear.

With my pregnancy with Ian, I was blessed to have most things go smoothly. I didn't have any major scares, and things progressed the way that they were supposed to. I never had any fears or doubts that I wouldn't get to deliver him. I always just knew that I would have him, and that was that.

But things are so different now. So scary. So filled with uncertainty.

I think the worst part is that I don't even have a clue as to why my placental area might be swollen. Through all of my research I have yet to find even a single mention of such thing. I feel so in the dark. Not to mention, the constant bleeding. I know, bleeding here and there during pregnancy is pretty normal, especially in the first trimester. But have small amounts of blood most everyday...is not. I am reminded most every. single. day. that this pregnancy is not normal by the blood tinges. I hate not knowing what is going on inside of my body. I hate not being able to protect my baby. I hate that I have no idea if things are going to be okay. I hate not knowing. I hate not planning. Mostly, I hate that I'm so anxious about it all of the time. I anxiety has made it nearly impossible to find any joy within this pregnancy thus far.

I thought that I would know more by now. I'm almost into my 2nd trimester...and still no more sure about things than I was on that night that I first saw those two lines pop up on the EPT. I despise the uncertainty.

My biggest fear? Going in and seeing that I've already lost my sweet baby. I can't imagine. And to be honest, I don't think that I could do it again. We want another child...but I don't think I have it in me to go through the sickness, and the uncertainty again anytime soon, if, heaven forbid, I should have to start over again. I know that I should be staying positive, and to a certain extent, I am. But that doesn't change that I know that there is a real possibility that things could take a turn for the worse. I've seen it happen to too many people, too many times.

One of the hardest parts about dealing with all of this is that there is no one to talk to. Sure, I have tons of wonderful and loving people who are willing to listen, but most of them just spew out ten tons of positive thoughts after I let it all out. They tell me that "everything will be okay" and that I "have to stay positive". The positivity is great, and I know that they are all trying to be helpful, but sometimes I just wish that someone would look at me and say "I know the uncertainty must be hard for you, and I understand why you feel the way that you do."

Alas, only tomorrow will tell. Please keep us, and our little gummy bear in your thoughts.