California here we come

Tomorrow morning we're heading to California to give Noah his first Disneyland experience. To say he's excited is quite the understatement. i'm honestly surprised he even fell asleep tonight.

as for me - getting ready to head to CA with Aaron's parents (we're staying with his brother, so it will be the whole Walker family together again) reminds me of the last time we were all together in CA. It was 4 years ago November. I'll share one story from that memorable trip - but first, let me clarify, i love my father-in-law dearly, he's the sweetest person you could ever meet and he treats me more like a daughter than a daughter-in-law. My sister-in-law can testify that he really is the greatest guy. that beings said.....

it was our last day in CA, and it had been spent on the beach trying to get a great family picture taken. that may sound like a great time, all day at a beach in San Diego - but try doing that with a 20 month old who was sick of having to hold still, he didn't like the sand on his feet, he was mad because we wouldn't let him in the water and who hadn't had a nap that day. Noah was in rare form.





I wasn't in the best of moods either because we were 3 weeks shy of moving across the country to DC, we still had no idea where we were going to live, i was stressed out of my mind and Noah's temper tantrums from the previous three days had taken their toll. To top it off, it had been a very long day and we were all hungry and ready to get home.

Foolishly we thought Noah would calm down if he ate sooner then later, so we stopped at a restaurant. Within in 10 minutes of sitting down Noah had succeeded in throwing everything he could reach off the table, he was screaming and crying and i had had enough. I asked Aaron to get my food to go and i would take noah to the car and let him watch a movie (he loved watching the cartoon Robin Hood) on the dvd player and when they were done eating we could head home. I literally dragged Noah out of their screaming and crying (I should specify - Noah was screaming and crying... i was still holding it together, by a very small thread).

Once in the car, i strapped Noah in his car seat (in the middle of the row) and i sat on his left. Once his movie started he quited right down. by that time, the stress of all i had been going through seemed to overwhelm me and i just sat there and cried. A few minutes went by when there was a tap on the window on Noah's right. It was Aaron's dad. i unlocked the doors and quickly turned my head so he couldn't see i had been crying. he got in and sat next to noah and we all sat there quietly listing to noah's movie.

after a few seconds Terry says, "It's been a long three days and you have a lot going on. You have a big move coming up, which is hard. It's even harder dealing with stressful things when you're not at home and you're being dragged around all day every day."

At this point, i couldn't help it, the tears just fell down my cheeks as i began to feel validated for all i was going through. it had been a long three days. i did have a big move coming up and i had never felt more stressed and yes, it was hard dealing with all of this in another state when i'd rather be home packing and getting ready for the upcoming weeks. I felt so grateful that my father-in-law was so understanding and seemed to know just what i needed to hear.

And then, as he starts patting Noah's leg, he says, "And you're just really tired, aren't ya little guy."

Yes, he had been talking to Noah. For the love.

But it's all good. We eventually made it home, all of us alive, and we successfully moved across the country three weeks later. All in all, it was a fun trip and i'm looking forward to doing it all again.

Noah - the helper

Noah is loving being a big brother, and as such, wants to be involved in everything Reagan is doing. Apparently his most important job is checking out all of her poopy diapers. wet diapers hold no interest - it's only the poopy ones. he made the mistake of getting in a little too close of a look once and started dry heaving from the smell of it... but that has not stopped him from continuing his "poop monitor" duty.

I tried to have him be my helper when it came to telling me if she's awake yet while i'm outside raking leaves, but that job ended when he went in her room to check on her and then yelled, from her room, "Yep, she's still asleep. Oh, wait a minute, nope, she's awake!"

But now, as I found out a few days ago, he's decided to take his 'helping' role to the next step. I had put Reagan in her chair, had her bowl of food ready - but before i could start feeding her, the phone rang. I asked Noah to watch her so i could go find the phone. This is what i came back to a few minutes later....








Thankfully, all it took was one quick bath to get her back to looking her amazing, beautiful, out-of-control hair, self!

Poor, poor Aaron

somewhere in the back of your mind, there's a very small voice that's telling you you're overreacting, but you just can't seem to help it. have you ever had a day like that?

let me give you an example of one of mine....

I've just finished cleaning the house as Aaron is walking in from work.

Aaron: hi, sweetie, how are you doing.

Brenda: I'm really tired. It was a long night with Reagan and it's been an even longer day.

Aaron, walks into the living room,(which i've spent all day cleaning) drops his briefcase in the middle of the floor and sits down to go through the mail.

Brenda: um... really?

Aaron: What?

Brenda: You really just left that in the middle of the floor?

Aaron: yes, what's the problem?

Brenda: i just spent all day cleaning - please stop going through the mail and put your briefcase where it goes. (a little grumpy, i admit, but we have to keep in mind i'm very tired)

Aaron: (a little annoyed) why are you freaking out, i just got home, i'll put it away in a minute.

Brenda: i'm not freaking out, i'm just irritated at your complete lack of respect for me. (yes, i may be slightly overreacting - but the train has left the station and there's no turning back)

Aaron: (definitely annoyed) Are you kidding? how does my briefcase have anything to do with respecting you. you are being completely irrational.

Brenda: (now starting to cry) you just don't get it. This has nothing to do with your briefcase. if you respected me and the hard work i've put in to clean the house you would not have just thrown it in the middle of the room. It's like you don't love me at all. (still crying)

Aaron: (less annoyed, a little nervous) Babe, you need to calm down. this has gotten way out of control. I think you should go to bed early tonight, because it's obvious you're just overtired.

Brenda: (still crying) i'm not tired. why are you saying i'm tired? you don't think i have a reason to be upset, so you're trying to blame it on something and because i had a long night last night you're saying i'm tired instead of just admitting you're being rude and insensitive.

Aaron: (now just trying to find a way to bring sane brenda back) you're right, i should have put it away, i'm sorry. thank you for working so hard, the house looks great, you look great, i'd love to cook you dinner- let me just put my briefcase away. i love you.

Brenda: (feeling much better) It's ok. thanks for understanding. you're the greatest. i love you too.

Aaron: (walking out of room, apparently still needing to learn how to quit when he's ahead) Sweetie, just wondering, are you by chance close to that time of month?

oh, so close, he was so close.

I.M.A. - the pregnancy

I ask you this - before you ever became a mother - did you really know just what you were getting into? did anyone tell you that the hard times would be unbelievably hard and that the good times would bring you more joy then you thought was possible? I always thought I'd have four kids. More than that is just plain crazy, having only two seemed so sad (besides, if you're mad at each other - who do you play with? coming from a family with 8 kids - i could be fighting with 2 or 3 siblings and still have plenty leftover), and you can't have just three because then one child never has a partner for the Disneyland rides... so four seemed like the perfect number. But once i had experienced pregnancy and the beginnings of motherhood, i knew i was in trouble. I've concluded that no one could ever have properly prepared me for either.

i figure that today we'll start with the pregnancy.

this is how pregnancy was described to me....

"from the minute you find out you're pregnant it's nothing but exciting, happy times. you don't start showing for awhile because it's your first, so be patient, you'll show eventually. You may feel a little morning sickness, but it's not too bad, especially because you'll look so beautiful with that pregnancy glow. And when the baby kicks it's so fun and very bonding for you both. In the end, when labor starts you just stay focused on that precious baby and you won't need an epidural - because once the baby is born, you hold this beautiful little angel, and all thoughts of pain are gone. Everything comes so naturally as you simply love this new life you've brought forth."

And what it's really like...

As soon as you see that positive sign on the stick you are excited and happy for about 5 minutes, when a wave of "what have we done" hits you as you realize there's no going back - especially (if you're anything like me) when you wake up the next morning to find your pants are already feeling tight. (when my body realizes it's pregnant it figures there's no sense in waiting 4 or 5 months to get big - might as well get a head start on that process).

Once the panic subsides and you start looking forward to the next nine months you begin to feel ill and tired. Ill as in, you're trying to figure out where in the world you could have come in contact with the west nile virus, and tired as in the life blood is somehow being sucked out of you leaving you useless to the world by 7:30 p.m. And the pregnancy glow is really just perspiration from the hot flashes that will be your constant guide for the next nine months.

Thankfully, 6 months later, you're officially in maternity clothes - which feel heavenly after using rubber bands to keep your pants up for way too long - and people are now giving you the look of "oh, cute, she's pregnant" instead of "is she getting fat? i swear she's putting on weight. she definitely didn't look that big last time i saw her". Soon the kicking begins, which is magical and wonderful until the foot finds your bladder and starts playing the how-fast-can-mommy-run-to-the-bathroom game. Eventually the baby turns and it changes to the i-know-i-can-break-this-rib-if-i-kick-just-right game. These games wouldn't be so bad if you actually slept longer then 3 hours, did not waddle everywhere you went and was not the size of a small elephant.(Aaron and i were at the airport and he actually went to the ticket guy at the door and said, "I was wondering if we could preboard. i don't have a toddler, but i do have a waddler." it was sad, but true, i waddled. That same day I was trying on a shirt and was worried that my back had gone from one fat roll to two and asked Aaron if he thought it looked really bad. his comment was, "Um, I figure you have about 2 or 3 more pounds before you should stop wearing that shirt." for the love. at least he's honest) And then the heartburn begins. No matter how severe the pain, you are constantly reassured it's only heartburn and that you will not die at any moment from a heart attack. this is the point where Costco bottles of TUMS are always within reach.

Finally, the night you've been waiting for has arrived. You've made it through the sickness, sleepless nights, hormone swings you never thought possible, weight gain that made your husband nervous (though he'd never admit it) and all this for that magical moment... birth. May we all take a moment of silence, with respect and appreciation, for our dear friend - The Epidural. (However, this particular friend had other obligations in my most critical hour and left. I have three words for what resulted in that kind of behavior - Ring Of Fire. For those male readers, i won't elaborate, let me just say it wasn't pretty.)

At last, one final push, the baby is here and you're anxious to see him because all the pain and trauma you've just experienced will disappear, just like mom promised. And yet, as they put him on your stomach - this crying, wrinkled, not so clean (but very precious) baby - the pain does not disappear and you're still shaking from what you've gone through. and you're thinking 'any time now mom, seriously, i'm looking at the baby - why is that pain not magically gone' and the nurse is telling you to kiss the baby, but you're still trying to come to terms with what your body has just been through and you're starting to realize the pain is not magically disappearing and how fast can you say 'narcotics please'.

I didn't realize it, at the time, but i think this was the start of I.M.A. (Imperfect Mother's Anonymous), because when all was quiet and I was really holding my baby for the first time I was surprised because I didn't feel this overwhelming, immediate, bond with my son. I think i expected to feel this instant "mom" thing - full of love and patience and wisdom - but instead i was the same 'ol me, but with a baby in my arms. a baby that was now my sole responsibility to care for, to raise, to keep alive day to day - i think my greater emotion was one of feeling lost and overwhelmed. but as each minute went by i began to feel more calm and more in awe at this tiny creature i called mine. I found that when others came to visit at the hospital and would hold him, it wouldn't take long for me to feel this need to have him back so i could hold him and just look at him. those two first days went by so quickly and before i knew it the nurse was telling me we could go. I looked at her as though she was speaking a foreign language. did she not realize i had no idea what i was doing? had i somehow fooled them all? surely she must have seen the look of absolute panic at the thought of leaving and having to face motherhood on my own. but no, they simply patted my hand and sent us on our way. i cried the whole way out.

Over the following weeks i found that even though i was terrified and worried that i was doing everything wrong it was ok, because no matter what - this little boy, so perfect in anyway, loved me and trusted me to simply love him back. besides aaron, he was the most important person in my life and i was crazy about him in every way. It's been 6 years now and each time noah has a check-up and the doctor tells me he's healthy and strong - i feel a great sense of accomplishment. It's proof that miracles do happen, even for people like me.

And yes, mom, five years later i finally could remember the pain of labor no more... and then we had Reagan - but that's a different post for a different day.

The joys of fatherhood

poor, poor Aaron. He never really had a chance. The minute we found out we were having a girl - he was a lost cause, Reagan had him wrapped around her finger the minute she was born.



It's actually been a lot of fun watching him this second time around. (he was pretty nervous with Noah when he was born. So was i, but i could never admit that - i was the mom and moms can't be nervous, right? i remember bringing him home from the hospital and we sat him down in the living room, still in his car seat, and both of us just looking at him wondering...'so now what do we do'. and then later that night, when he was crying and wouldn't stop, it hit me that i couldn't just take him back to his mother - i was the mother... that was the first time i ever wished Noah good luck.) Anyway - back to Aaron - last Sunday he took Reagan to change her diaper and a few minutes later called for me. i went in the room to see that she had wet through her diaper and onto her outfit. I told him to keep changing her while i found clean clothes. i was gone about 40 seconds and came back to find Reagan had spit up all over her little naked body (may i use the word 'projectile') and i look up at Aaron to find the whole front of his shirt totally wet. evidently he picked her up naked (he was just asking for trouble) and so of course she peed all over him and in his haste to put her down she spit up everywhere. it was all i could do to not laugh out loud. rookie mistakes my boy, rookie mistakes. Reagan looked quite pleased with herself.



It was later that night i read a book called "Father to Daughter" which is a small book compiled of different advice given from fathers to other fathers about raising a daughter. Here are some of my favorite pages....

#7 - Accept the fact that she will melt your heart anytime she chooses.

#35 - Relish the moments when she toddles up and for no reason at all throws her arms around your neck. Resist the urge to buy her the world.

#44 - When you take her to the movies, be ready for her to bring along five or six of her favorite stuffed animals. When fathers of boys look at you strangely, act as if her behavior makes perfect sense.

#53 - Have tea parties with her. Nibble on whatever she puts in front of you. Tell her it's delicious.

#63 Remember, if little girls don't get a nap, they can resemble something from a Stephen King novel.

#75 - Write this down: Girls cry. A lot.

#135 - Remember, teenage girls spend hours in their room doing something. No man has ever really figured out what that something is.

#148 - Remember, when you're dealing with a 13-year-old girl, for all intents and purposes you're dealing with a fruitcake.

#162 - Teach her that there's nothing she can't accomplish.

#171 - There will be days when you think you've raised an alien. Those are the same days she feels she's being raised by one.

#216 - Her first soccer team may be called the Pansies. You may have to wear a T-shirt with pansies all over it. There are worse things.

#229 - Be prepared to be amazed by her accomplishments.

#233 - You may feel the urge to paint your stomach and face with her team's colors. Resist it.

#291 - Remember, it's a good thing if the boys in her life think you are slightly unstable.

#295 - Ask her and her date what their plans for the night are. If you don't like the plans, help them make new ones. Your daughter will hate this. It doesn't matter.

#300 - Remember, every girl's heart gets broken. There's nothing you can do to fix it. Hunting down the boy won't help. On the other hand, she will also break a few hearts herself.

#314 - You have no power over how much makeup, shampoo, suntan lotion, skin creams, hair color treatment, mascara, eyeliner, perfume, cologne, body wash, and bath lotion she will buy. Accept this and move on.

#339 - She will decide you need a complete, head-to-toe, fashion makeover. Beware! This will not make you look cool.

#357 - Prepare for the day when you're not the most important man in her life.

#375 - Remember, she will break your heart when she leaves for college. But you will survive.

#376 - Tell her she is the daughter you always dreamed about.

#377 - In the end,

#378 - Let her go.

And here we go again...

For the love.  Yes, it's true, I agreed to get another dog.  I told Aaron if he could find a dog that would strictly be an outdoor dog, wouldn't bark, and did not need love and attention (I'm such a mean dog owner) then he could get another dog.  I know it sounds heartless, but lets face it - I have a new baby, I'm still not totally unpacked (going on 4 months now - very pathetic), we're going on 3 days without me doing any laundry and the clean dishes in the dishwasher are now dirty in the sink and never actually made it back to the cupboards first.  The last thing I have time for is to go outside and play with a dog.  So with the new stipulations, Aaron began his research.  It took him two days, but he finally found what he feels will be the perfect dog...may we all give a big hello, to Dan the dog.



Dan's owner was closing down his outfitting company where he outfits hunters with trained dogs.  Dan is an English Pointer and is 9-years old.  He's trained to not bark or howl as it would scare away the game.  He's lived his whole life outside in a kennel, so he's used to being outdoors and doesn't need a lot of attention...my kind of dog.

Noah seems to like him and so far he's been a pretty good dog.




He comes with a collar that has a beep setting and a shock setting.  If Dan gets too far away from us we hit a button on a remote and the collar will make a high beep sound, to which Dan will know to come right back.  The only reason he thinks we'll need the collar is because we're new to Dan and it will take a few weeks for him to know our voices and recognize us as his new owners.  Once that's accomplished I'm thinking this collar is a great idea for kids.

The other day Noah took off in the library and I couldn't find him anywhere.  It got to the point where I was actually getting really worried.  If I would have had the collar on him - I could have pressed the button, beeping sounds would emit, and Noah comes right back.  I'm thinking this is a much better plan then me running all over the library in a panic yelling for him.  I figure it's worth a try, until Social Services come knocking on my door.  But with my I.M.A. card - I figure they'll let me go with a warning.

I.M.A - Imperfect Mother's Anonymous

I've decided i'm going to start a club - I.M.A. - Imperfect Mother's Anonymous. So that all of us who feel inadequate, overwhelmed, less than perfect... will have a place to go where people can relate. I imagine it will start out with me standing and introducing myself...

"Hello, My name is Brenda, and I am an imperfect mother - I lose my patience, have been known to yell when pushed too far, I can't cook, I'm not crafty, my children are lucky to get veggie's with any meal, in my attempts to teach my 5-year old about strangers I have terrified him into not speaking with anyone (including grandma) and he will now have to go to counseling, and I have been known to put my child in front of a cartoon so I can sit with some ice cream and have a moment of peace and quiet."

(clarification - noah won't actually need to go into counseling, any time soon anyway, but I did terrify him enough about strangers that he wouldn't talk to my mother when she came to visit. And at Noah's 6-year check-up the doctor asked him what his favorite vegetable was and to my horror Noah turned, looked at me and said, "Mom, what's a vegetable?".  For the love.)

Then, in my little club, we will all sit around a table with a bowl of chocolate covered Prozac to pass around and talk about how motherhood is something our mothers never really warned us about. My mother's closest "warning" was her wish that i would end up with a daughter just like me. But i think i should have suspected something was amiss when my mom promised that after hours of labor i would hold that beautiful baby and all the pain would disappear as i looked into this little angel's face. yeah - not so much, mom.  not only did the pain NOT disappear, but i remembered it vividly for the next 2 years.  Frankly, Aaron is lucky I didn't pay the doctor to extend the 6 week rule to 6 years.

At the end of the day, when the kids are in bed and I can sit down, I love to close my eyes and listen to the sweet sound of silence. Eventually, I'll quietly slip into Noah's room and watch him sleeping and it's all I can do to not pick him up and hold him and tell him how much I love him. I look at this peaceful little boy, so calm, so sweet and innocent and I remember why I became a mom and why i'll try again tomorrow to be a better, more patient mother.

What was I thinking?

yes, in a moment of pure insanity, i agreed to get a dog. obviously - i am not mentally stable and should get help sooner or later.

last Saturday morning we went and picked up our new dog. It's a yellow lab, 1 1/2 years old and is an outdoor only dog - which was a must for me because i don't like dog hair on my clothes and i didn't want a new dog around Reagan. The owner assured us he was an outdoor dog and never slept in the house.  As you can imagine - Noah LOVES the dog and aaron loves the dog and the dog follows noah around the yard everywhere he goes.  The boys are happy to have a dog.  I'm happy to have a dog that loves being outside.

it's actually a very cute dog...until we come inside the house.  once we're inside - Toby will sit at our glass door and bark and whine and bark and howl and then bark some more. i've yelled and threatened and pleaded with him to stop barking, but it's as if he doesn't understand English - which i know he does, i just think he realizes how close i am to a break down and he's hoping to be here to see it. The last two nights we've gotten up at 3:30 AM to finally put the dog in the garage because it won't stop barking. I'm up enough with Reagan - i don't need to be up with a dog as well.  But the barking isn't the only problem, it's just too sad to think of this little dog always alone during the day just wanting someone to play with him - and knowing that i will never be that someone. So, i broke the news to aaron and we're taking the dog back tomorrow. i keep thinking i may change my mind, because the dog really is a cute dog, but then 2 minutes will go by and the dog starts barking again, and i realize if the dog is going to make it to it's 2nd birthday... it's got to go back. And after talking to the original owner, we found out that this dog was an indoor dog from the beginning and was never intended to be an outdoor dog (evidentally the last owner lied to us so we'd take the dog). i guess giving the dog back, is for the best after all.

may we all have a moment of silence for Toby the barking yellow lab.