And then there was four

I feel like May was a roller coaster of a month. With the reality of my little boy turning two, and getting bigger, which is always a sad realization, to the anticipation of my little girls arrival, and every day coming and going with no baby in my arms.  

My sister came to visit at the beginning of the month. And of course we thought it would be perfect if our little girl would come while she was in town. But, she didn't. And instead we got to hang out and play, and be tourists in St. Louis and celebrate Preston getting bigger together. I was so glad to have her here. I love my siblings.

Then, 10 days later my dad came to visit, and of course when he told me when he was coming, I just knew the babe would be here by then. Ten days later, and a weekend with my pops, no baby! Just a happy little boy to have his grandpa in town. 

So we kept waiting. 

And waiting. 

And then scheduled an induction and out flew my mom a few days later.

I told my doctor I wouldn't/couldn't be 40 weeks pregnant. I'd have a huge baby, and I just didn't want to go down that road. Sure enough 40 weeks came and went and I was just sure my body would go into labor on its own like it did with Preston and we would never get to the scheduled induction date. Let's be honest here, with Preston coming 10 days early, EVERY day I thought I'd have my baby. That is the surest way to make for the longest month possible. 

Monday night, May 26th rolled around and before I knew it, we were sitting in the hospital beginning the induction. The one thing I didn't want to happen. But, babies can't stay in there forever. 

 They tried one approach.

And we waited.

And waited. 

And nothing more than a few weak contractions happened.

So, approach number two. Where some pill was inserted up in me to cause stronger contractions. 

And we waited.

And waited.

And waited even longer.

And by now Tuesday was shaping up to be the most boring day of my life. A day I thought I'd have a baby in my arms, but one with little progress to be had.

The progress was so uneventful that John left to go take care of things, and I wondered the hospital halls for a good little while reading, bored out of my mind, hearing the sounds of babies cry, and wondering when I'd get to hear the sweet sound of my own.

Finally late Tuesday night we felt hopeful when the third approach, a painful one might I add, think balloons inside of me opening me up, stretching me, forcing my body to dilate, seemed promising. I went from being dilated from a 1 to a 7 in a few hours. 

Ah, there was a light at the end of the tunnel. 

Finally!

And yet, we still had to wait.

And wait. 

It wasn't until my water broke, the trick that worked for getting Preston here, too, happened that things got rolling. I asked the doctor to break my water initially, but they wanted to wait. Waiting was the name of the game this labor. But eventually, my water finally broke on it's own (after the help of some pitocin I'm sure) and in a matter of seconds she was ready to come. Like literally seconds after my water broke she wanted out. If only they would have done that sooner. Broke my water that is. That's the trick, and next time around, if there is one, they will be doing that first.

Either way, she was finally ready to come out and join our family. So, after a good five minutes of pushing, out came my baby girl around 4:54 am on Wednesday morning. My big baby girl. Who weighed in at 9 lbs 4 oz. Remember how I never wanted to get to 40 weeks? Well, I was now 41 weeks. An entire week overdue. But thankfully,  pushing out a nine pound baby versus an eight pound one didn't seem much different. Bless my body for not dying in the process though!

I never imagined being induced would put me in the hospital for four days straight. But by Thursday afternoon, I was finally going home, with a sleeping baby in my arms might I add, and it was glorious. I never want to spend another day in the hospital again. Ever!

Welcome to the world my sweet Gwenyth Joy Lovell, you've stolen our hearts and we're in love. 

I never dared pray for a calm baby (thankfully my mom did that for me instead), but she's been just that, calm and gentle, and I feel so grateful! The complete opposite of her brother. So far. Here's to hoping it lasts. 

My Little Big Two Year Old

Happy Birthday to my favorite two year old in the entire world (yesterday)! I remember the day we drove home from the hospital with you, and I just knew that we were in for quite the adventure. You screamed the entire way. The entire way! And you know what, that was just a glimpse into what we had in store for us. From your inability to ever really sleep well, to you're extremely alert personality, you've never slowed down, not even for a second.

Nothing sums up life with you better than this (and that picture above):

A Boy is dirt 

and blue jeans

with mischief 

in His eyes.

He leaves behind

a Trail of dirt

no matter how

he Tries.

And at the end

of every day,

he still can run 

and shout.

When he should

be TIRED and

sleeping, it's 

Mom who's all

worn out!

I've often wondered if I never forced you to have a nap or go to bed at night, if you'd ever crash. I don't dare to actually put that to the test because I'm afraid of the answer. NO! 

You are so full of adventure. You want to play in the dirt, (preferably mud), and water, and make the biggest messes that only you can make. The bigger the better in your eyes. And you know what, most of the time that's fine by me because I know that's when you are the happiest. Out exploring your world, and getting dirty in the process. That's the way you do it.

You talk like you're much older than you really are, which makes punishing you rather difficult because we forget that you're still a "baby" more or less.  My baby. My baby who just turned two. How did that happen so quickly?

You have the best memory of any child I know and you have almost every song we've ever sung together memorized. You're all time favorite, "I Am A Child of God". Whenever I ask you what song we should sing, that's your go to. But even though we sing that song more than any other, I think you have half of the Children's Song Book memorized. You're also getting really good with making up songs about what you want to do that day. Lots of singing goes on in this house. And anytime I hear you singing, my heart melts. 

You blow my mind with what you know and can say already, with the best annunciation of any kid I've ever met your age. Whenever people comment about how well you talk, I always tell them that there's just something special about you. Because there is, and I feel honored that I get to be your mom and watch you grown and learn every day. Even if that means I'm going to get a few gray hairs in the process. 

There really aren't words to adequately describe how great you really are. You can be the sweetest boy in the entire world, full of hugs and kisses and please and thank you's, to a little monster at times. But all in all, I know you mean well...most of the time.

My fingers are crossed that as soon as this little girl joins our family, you'll be kind and gentle to her. But in reality, I know I'll never be able to leave her on the floor, or unattended for even the slightest second. It's going to be an interesting adjustment around here. You hate when I give attention to anyone but you. You love to throw your toys, no matter how many times I tell you not to. Playing by yourself makes you angry. And, let's just say, you're a true boy through and through and rough play is your specialty. But like I said, my fingers are crossed for the best. Let's just hope she doesn't end up with any real damage over the next year or so. You'll be a good big brother, but a rough, and loud one at that.

Oh my sweet little boy, thank you for making me smile and laugh on a daily basis, and allowing me to love in a way that I never knew existed. Your dad and I love you to the moon and back. 

Real Life

I vowed once I became a mom that I'd NEVER complain about my role as a mother. I remember before having Preston reading so many negative posts on Facebook about how peoples children were driving them crazy. It seemed like there was one complaint after another. And I never wanted to be that parent that took for granted the blessing this role is, no matter how hard or daunting my days would soon be.

Then I became a parent. And, even amidst the good, the bad and those terribly ugly days, I hope I've never actually complained about being a mom. But, I'm sure I've failed in that regard. Because you know what, being a parent is hard. It's tiring. Draining. Exhausting. And I could go on and on. But, even though it's all those things and more, it's so beautiful, and rewarding, and fun, and it's the role I chose for myself. And that's what I have to remind myself when I feel like I'm overwhelmed with the hard aspect of it all. I CHOSE to be a parent. And with that, I chose to accept all of the hardships and rewards that would accompany my new position in life.

I look at people who live near family and are raising children and I think, wow, you have it so easy. So easy and they don't even realize it. To say I'm jealous of anyone who gets to live near family while trying to raise one would be an understatement. In fact, I think they're cheating the system if we're being honest here. I get you'll still have your moments, we all do, but how nice would it be to have family close by to help take care of your little ones when you need a break or are having a hard day? I wouldn't know, and sadly, I'll probably never know. But, for any of you that have kids and live near family, I hope you know how lucky you are, and let's face it, how easy your lot is.

Being far from family is hard. Not having any close friends to help you out when you need an hour of solace, is hard. It's all hard. And it's in those moments, when I'm feeling bad for myself, and a little overwhelmed with life that I have to remind myself that I CHOSE this path. I chose it, and never once did I think it would be easy. I'd be a fool if I ever thought the role of a parent was going to be a walk in the park. I didn't. I don't. I won't. So, with that, I keep on chugging along. I keep dealing with the tantrums. The poop on the floor. And the constant whines that tell me I'm not doing the best job in that very moment. Because being a mother is what I wanted to be and the role I wanted to hold. The life of a stay at home mom I tell ya!

I took a dumb quiz on Facebook the other day, one that said, "how many kid should you really have?" And you know what it told me, I couldn't handle more than one. If I haven't already thought that on my own a thousand times before taking that pathetic quiz, well, here is me taking it far too seriously and wondering what in the world I've gotten myself into? How am I supposed to raise two kids? I can barely handle one half of the time. And to add to the fire, now that I'm about to have a daughter, naturally I'll have to have even more kids, because you know what, every girl deserves a sister...not that I'll get to choose the gender of my children of course. But, I couldn't imagine going through life without my sisters. I'd seriously be a disaster without them. But, it's not just that, even if I go a little crazy these next 15 to 20 years raising a family, it will all be worth it when they have each other to lean on, to learn from, and to walk through life with. I love my siblings more than any of them will ever realize, and for that reason alone, I want my kids to also know the same joys that I do. So, bring on more kids...years and years down the road of course, because I couldn't handle a whole slew of them right now.

Life has felt a little overwhelming these days to say the least. A little bit lonely. And a lot uncomfortable. I lied to someone the other day, unintentionally, and told them I was due in two months. It wasn't until hours later I realized I actually have three months of pregnancy left. Three months! Oh boy. You know what makes you feel good about that though, someone at church asking you if you're sure you don't have two in there? I know I've been a little bit cranky lately, said things out of haste, and not been the most pleasant to be around. But, what's pregnancy good for (besides a baby of course) if we can't use it as a poor excuse for our behavior?

Thank goodness for a trip to Utah in a few more days. A much needed trip at that. One that is nice and long. I couldn't think of anything better right now than a two week break from real life, where I get to hang out with all of my siblings, and all of my nieces and nephews, and only step in as a parent when I'm breaking up a fight over a toy! Yes, this vacation is needed. A break before life get's really crazy around here and I have another child...and then potentially move all the way across the world. Aiy yi yi.

Winter Blues

I never remember lamenting a winter as much as I have this one. I don't know if it's because everyone out here said it's not that bad, maybe a few really cold days here and there, but nothing too intense, or if it's because I have a child now and being stuck in doors just plan sucks. Either way, this winter is quickly eating me up. 

We've had too many below freezing days to count. Too much snow for my liking. And way too much time spent in doors...both fighting colds and the frigid cold. 

I may have grown up in Utah, gone to school in Idaho for a few years, and dealt with cold winters for the last 28 years. So, I know how winters go. It's cold, but life moves on. But I'll tell you what, a midwest winter is not to be messed with. The humid temperatures make this cold, bone biting. It goes right through you, and bites you at the core. It's miserable to say the least. I much prefer the winter infested snow land of Utah than I do to this kind of cold. And that's saying something. At least in Oklahoma we had random days in the 60 to break up the winter and remind you spring IS coming. But not here.

After spending over a week trapped in doors due to a sick child and my sick self this past week, I vowed today would be the day we'd get back to real life. And then this morning rolled around, and I woke up to a child who slept lousy last night, a nose that won't stop running, and a temper to match. So, we stayed in this morning. And all I can think about is running away to a beach. Where it's warm. And the sun melts my body all day long. 

But I know winter will be here for awhile longer, so, I will do my best to "enjoy" a season I could bypass all together and my life would still feel complete. 

And just so I'm not a total sore sport when it comes to winter, we DID venture out in it one day, when I was convinced a little fresh air would do us good. It did. For about 20 minutes. And then I had to deal with a lovely tantrum from a little boy who could spend his life outside, no matter what the air feels like, and be perfectly content. I on the other hand am a wimp, and both our runny noses and red cheeks told me it was time to come inside. 

How could I deprive such a happy face? Well, I'm a mean mom. In the winter. 

Things I never want to forget

Preston is at one of the funnest, yet most challenging phases right now. Don't I say that every month though? He is full of so much spunk and energy, with equal parts tantrum and whining. I think they call this the terrible twos, although, we still have a few more months until he's actually in that category for real.

My favorite Preston moments lately:

Just today, as we were reading stories together, he was being all too cute, so I asked him for a kiss, which he gladly gives out whenever they're asked for. As soon as he pulled away from kissing me he wiped my chin and said, "Eww, slobbery." Something I frequently do after kisses, since the poor thing hasn't figured out how to stop drooling since the day he was born.

Last night while reading stories before bed, I couldn't help but think how cute this little boy is, who's not even 21 months yet, and was reading along with me on each of the pages. He's seriously so smart...or just really good at memorizing! After finishing one of the stories, I said to him, "You're so cute, do you know that?" to which he responded, "I know that!"

He loves prayer time. In the middle of each of our prayers he used to cover his mouth, fake cough, and then say, "excuse me" just to make us laugh. Now, prayer time means he folds his arms, bows his head, and starts saying the prayers himself. They usually go something like this, "Heavenly Father, bless kitty cat (our neighbors cat), bless lawnmower..." repeated about five times. It's a good start, right?

We had our first haircut incident. I caught him in his room, after he had told me to go into my room, and then quickly shut the door behind me, with scissors in his hand, and a nice chunk of hair lying in his lap. I couldn't help but laugh at the fact that he managed to cut a nice little patch of hair off, front and center and all.

He loves giving my belly kisses and saying "Hi baby!" Let's hope he loves her as much when she's out of me as he does in. Did I mention I'm pregnant? Yep, here we go again. I'm 24 weeks and I look like I'm ready to pop any day now. The joy's of having a short torso. Long legs don't really come in handy for this.

He loves to pretend he's a monster. He'll usually tell me to "go to sleep" and then wait for just the right moment to roar at me to scare me. Thank's Monsters Inc. for that one.

He loves to learn, and even though we've read most of his stories 1000 times, he still likes to point at everything over and over again and say "what's that?" I usually respond the first few times, and then I make him tell me what everything is. He always knows.

I love this little boy more than words could ever express. It's so fun watching him learn and grow in new ways everyday. I'm pretty sure John and I say on a daily basis how lucky we are to have him. While I feel like I'm chasing after him saying "no!" most of the time lately, and am beyond exhausted by the end of the day, he really is the best little guy, and makes me smile like no other! 

Christmas Vacation

With my lack of blogging, you'd think my life was just too boring to have anything worthy of documenting. That's only partly true. Sometimes we are boring over here. Never leave the house, like not even a foot outside for fresh air. Stay in our pajamas until noon. Cuddle in blankets and, probably watch one too many shows. But you know what? That's just the way life goes around here sometimes. And I'm ok with that.

But, sometimes we do exciting things. Like go on a family "stay-cation" in our own city, just so we can go swimming in the middle of a freezing winter. Or, visit the zoo, because it's free, and things like that need to be taken advantage of. And one time, we even hopped on a plane for seven hours and went to England for Christmas. So, I'd like to think we're not totally boring people. Just on occasion(s).

Sometime back in the summer when we learned that my in-laws would be going on a mission to England, we decided right then and there that's where Christmas would be spent. Then came time to actually buy the tickets and we almost bagged the whole thing. But, that would put us in the "boring people" category. And just because we have a crazy-active toddler on our hands, doesn't mean we can't subject an entire plane to a seven hour tantrum. So, we bit the bullet and bought our tickets, and away we flew. Tantrum the entire flight and all. It was a lovely mess.

I love visiting other countries. I love seeing how other people in the world live. And I love getting to be part of their culture, for days or weeks at a time. It was such a wonderful trip, aside from the plane flight. But you know what? We all survived, and so did everyone on that plane who, along with us, got no sleep that night. You win some, you lose some.

I'm sure there are things we missed doing in London, but, with a little one in tow, I feel like we crammed in as much as we could in the short week we were there. We left feeling pretty satisfied with what we were able to see.

Cousins! Buckingham Palace. House of Parliament. Hyde Park. Tower Bridge. Westminster Abbey. Science Museum. Leicester Square. Saw Les Mis. Wandered through Harrods. White cliffs of Dover. Canterbury. We even got to spend an entire day by ourselves in London, thanks to my in-laws! And of course, we toured the darling town of Gravesend where my in-laws are currently living. It was such a lovely trip. And a nice break from reality. That is, until we had to take an eight hour flight back home. We're pretty certain we can do anything now after surviving such flights!

Prestonisms

This little guy is 19 months old with an energy level that is off the charts. Keeping up with him can be exhausting, but, there's no other way I rather spend my days. He's the best.

I'm convinced he's a special kid. Who doesn't think that about their own child though? But with his smarts and wits, it's just a matter of time before he outsmarts John and me.

Last night at dinner, he didn't want to eat anything, he just wanted to play. No surprise there. We told him he had to have three more bites of hotdog before he could go play with his toys. So, what does he do? Eats one bite, no problem. Picks up bite two, bites it in half, and then tried to claim the other half of his second bite as bite three. I couldn't help but laugh at the cleverness of it all.

After dinner we went to look at Christmas lights for F.H.E. We stopped by Starbucks to get some hot chocolate, and as we pulled up to the drive thru window, Preston yells, "french fries!"

He's really into saying "more" these days. If we hear a song he likes, he says "more!" if he gets a bite of something delicious, he wants more! So, while looking at lights last night, he kept asking for "more Christmas lights!", but the best was when we'd pass houses that had a nativity scene on display and we'd say, "look, there's baby Jesus", and at one point he excitedly exclaimed, "more Jesus!". Yes buddy, we all need more Jesus in our lives.

After his bath the other night, and, out of the blue, Preston said to John, who was trying to dry him off, "don't touch me!" Where does he learn these things?

He loves saying, er, yelling "Amen!" at the end of prayers. The other day I asked him if he wanted to say the prayer for lunch,  he didn't. But, following the prayer while I was getting his lunch, I heard him whisper, "heavenly father...daddy safe...bless food..." it was the sweetest thing.

We've been trying hard to teach him manners, and to say please and thank you, and you're welcome. He usually combines them all and says, "thank you, welbome". I love how he says welcome. Welbome.

He's excellent at saying "no" but rarely says "yes", everything is, "okay!" I've since realized how often I say okay to everything.

He's still obsessed with music and picks up on songs/tunes really well. This morning without even realizing it I started humming the most obnoxious "Elmo's World" song...but I literally only hummed a couple of notes before I quickly stopped. And, right on queue, Preston yells, "Elmo". Nothing gets passed him.

Like I said, this boy is something else, but I wouldn't change him for the world. He keeps me on my toes, but exhausts me like no other by the end of the day. I guess I'd expect no less from a little boy. Isn't that how they're supposed to be?