Thoughts, Pictures, Wyatt's bday party and Whatever else

Last night was a rough night.  I started feeling extremely tired at work and then the migraine symptoms started... spotted vision, things sounding weird, looking weird, extreme exhaustion, etc.

It was a good thing Wyatt's game was cancelled because I needed to just do nothing.  I asked Dale if he could handle dinner.  No problem.  I laid down on the couch and was out.  I'm thankful it didn't turn into a full blown migraine.  I haven't had issues with that in a really long time.  I'm not really sure what's up but I need to get this out of my system.  I got up to eat and go to bed and that was about it.  I did throw some laundry in the washer and actually got a load completed even dried and folded AND put away with very little fuss.  Dale took care of dinner, baths, and the clean up.  So thankful for having such a great husband. 

I feel better today but still a little on the tired side.  I really need to fuel up for Saturday!  I'm excited and I'm ready to just run it.  No pressure about time.  I want to push my limits a little but not too early.  I want to go with the flow as much as possible.  I might even turn the sound on my app off of and only look when I feel like I need to.  We'll see how it goes.  

I did my last run on Monday.  It was around 12 miles with an 8:20 pace in the rain.  I did have to take a break at mile 5 because of the storm and lightning that was getting too close, but at the end of my 12 I still felt like I could keep going.  I have no worries of surviving Saturday.  I'm totally in this to run off of how I feel.  Of course I want a good time, but I'm not breaking any records or anything.  I'm totally in this for the experience.  No negative thoughts.  Nothing but self love and praise!   

This is my friend/might as well be sister Lyndsey.  Can you believe that is her natural eye color?  Beautiful!  I love this picture of her.  She married one of my husband's best friends from college and we've been in each other's lives ever since.  They came to support me for the show and I had Wyatt's bday party kind of short notice to make sure they would be here for it. 

My brother, my soon to be sister-in-law, T, Stacyyyyyy

Billy is up next on that WBFF stage.  LOL!  He'd never!

I whined because I didn't have shades and they thought this was a good solution.

Siblings... there when you need them.

Totally related and totally all squint our noses the same when we are cracking up apparently. 

We don't feel like we get enough pictures together.

This is about all I have of party pics.  My dad was playing photographer.  These 2 are the only ones I have with my good camera.  And, of course Wyatt's face would be hidden!

Found these on my phone...

I threw this one in there because I forgot I took these early this spring.  It was cold but they wouldn't stop playing in the muddy water. 

Wyatt's field day - blast!

The girls beat them twice. 

This one... well, that's my son and his "friend" Kyra.  He's talked about her since the beginning of school and they will be having an ice cream "date" this Friday for his birthday.  I haven't told him yet. 

I'm excited about this summer.  I'm excited about not having an official plans or goals until the end of August as far as running and lifting goes.  I haven't worked out at all this week and I miss it bad.  Hopefully I can work it out to go to the gym with Dale during the week and run in between.  Who knows, I might get up early for a few early morning runs just because I miss it. 

I want to get stronger though.  I want more muscle bulk, like 5 to 7 pounds.  I don't want to get ripped and I know this will be hard with running so much, but I want more mass.  So, I'm thinking about things like that and how to get there.  I'm also thinking that next week I will get something moving around a Saturday morning get together with a bunch of people who want to get in shape and learn some things.  I'm no expert but I'm here to help where I can. 

I'm excited to hang out with super heroes in little clothes who steal my high heels. 

 

I'm excited about good times with good friends.

I'm excited about tanned skin and keeping my DIVA on. 

I'm excited about what this summer and next year will bring after I come down off the high of living so fully so far this year.  Who knows what all there is to come, but it's exciting!

Waylon's Day and Keepin It Real

Tuesday was a Waylon day.  When the boys have field trips and I haven't had a million snow days I like to take the day off of work and make it their day.  I enjoyed several of these days with Wyatt last year and now comes Waylon's turn. 

The lowdown:
We slept in. 
He came and cuddled with me in my bed and acted super sweet.
His little bro joined us (he now knows how to climb out of his crib)
We got dressed and waited for NaeNae (my mom).
A round of sausage biscuits and we were off to Wonderscope.
He loved it.
He laughed.
He played hard.
We were done.
We met up with my sister and my dad for lunch.
He loved it.
We laughed.
We had FUN.
Papa says, "you wanna come to work with me?"
He lit up.
He went to work.
He had fun.
Me and my mom had a girl's day.  I really can't remember the last time we did that spur of the moment kind of thing together.  Kinda special.  Shopping for all.
We all met at home.
We laughed.
We had fun.
We waited for Dale and the Sharp's had McDonald's for dinner.  A sure treat for the boys as we don't frequent the place.  Only stepped through those doors for a fundraiser for school. 
They laughed.
They played.
They had fun. 
It was chaos for me and Dale.  I left hungry!!
A pretty top of the books day for a 4 year old.

Keepin it real:
I think I've shared that we are having a few issues with Wyatt and his behavior.  Things have gotten a lot better.  He's not a bad kid.  He's a good, sweet kid, with a big heart. He's a kid, bottom line.  However, he is growing and there are obvious areas that we need to work harder on over others. 

I got an email from his teacher yesterday that made my heart sink because I thought we were on such a good path as of late. 

I was mad.  Not mad at the teacher.  I was mad at him.  We had been working hard on this and he messed up again.  I immediately went into thinking how I was going to punish him.  I wanted to spank him.  I wanted him to get the message another way that getting in trouble at school was unacceptable.  And again, I was wanting to make drastic changes to our routine to address the behavior. 

Thankfully I had an hour drive home.  In the middle of me trying to decide how many swats he was going to get as soon as we walked in the door I stopped.  Why would he say what he said?  What was going on around him?  What was the situation?  Why did he feel it was necessary for him to lose control? 
I had more questions than I had number of swats counted.  So, I told myself, maybe this wasn't the way to go.  I was going to ask him what happened.  Understand the situation and why he felt it was necessary to lash out. 

He wasn't going to get off the hook.  I was going to address the situation regardless, but I wanted to do it in a way where he would learn something more long term from it and not just, "mom's going to beat my ass if I screw up again".

Then something urged me to dig deeper.  Why is he acting like this?  What's the root of the problem.  We've changed his room.  He goes to bed on time.  He is awake by the time it is time to get up.  He has acted well rested, etc.

Self control

He is still learning this and we as parents are responsible for helping him along this journey while he tries to figure it all out.  Do I model good self control when I am stressed around them.  Truth be told - the majority of the time I do not.  Out of all the love and support I got last time around all of this I never felt the release that it isn't my fault.  Or that it can't be changed.  He is scarred for life.  This is how he will handle stress and it is my fault because that is what I model for him.

THAT'S NOT TRUE!
It can change. 
I can change.
He can change. 
IT'S NOT ALL MY FAULT. 

He is a kid and that is his job.  To learn this stuff and mess up and then learn some more.  How is he any different than anyother kid OR adult on this planet.  That is how it is for ALL of us. 
I finally felt that release and I have finally made it a priority to change how I handle stress at home. 
Turns out he lost his temper at school, but he stands firm on his story of not saying what he was accused of saying.  At this point I choose to believe him.  We will actively practice self control and I will do whatever it takes to make sure we don't look like psychos if someone decides to come peek through our windows!!! 

Last night was good practice.  He had 3 homework sheets to do because of his decision not to work on them earlier in the week.  I wouldn't let him off of the hook until he did an exercise staying calm the entire time.  It took him 6 tries, but he got the message.  Later that night he had one more sheet to finish up.  He sat right down.  We set goals:
1. To stay focused
2. To stay calm
3. To get the sheet done neatly and quickly

He met all 3 goals without needing to be reminded.  A big thing that seems to help with him is me telling him I will work on myself with him.  Last night I reminded him that I was staying calm and if I can stay calm so could he.  It also helps if I can explain, "Wyatt, I'm getting frustrated that you aren't staying focused." and list consequences of him not staying focused, such as play time is getting cut short, dinner is late, etc.  He doesn't just get the whole picture at his age.  He's not an expert at cause and effect just yet.  He has called me out on not keeping my patience as well and it has helped both of us. 

So, I chose NOT to yell.  I chose NOT to spank.  I chose NOT to judge him.  I chose NOT to just assume that he screwed up at school as bad as he was being accused.  I CHOSE TO listen to him.  I CHOSE to work on life skills through teaching instead of pain and fear.... and it worked.  (I'm not interested in going into a spanking vs not spanking debate.  Sometimes it works.)  I CHOSE NOT to rip everything out of his life that isn't the best influence.  This is usually the first thing I want to do, blame others or blame things for his actions.  He NEEDS life skills to be able to handle the things that he comes into contact with whether they are people or things.  He NEEDS to learn how to handle himself in ALL situations and his dad and I are responsible for modeling that for him. 

I CAN'T and I WON'T expect PERFECTION out of the little people that float in my footsteps just as I WON'T expect perfection out of myself.  We do our best and when we fail/fall/mess up/slip we try harder tomorrow. 

Now, with Weston getting out of his crib 3,474,984 times, I just might turn psycho anyway!

Ready or Not

The perfectly sharpened pencils

Square erasers

New bold markers

Perfectly shaped crayons

Crisp clothes

The brightest socks

And shiny new shoes

Even the underwear new

Butterflies

And being caught in the emotions of scared and excited

Missed friends

New routines

The chill in the air you feel in your t-shirt and shorts

The smell of that bus

and the confusion on where to sit while everyone stares.

It's here.  As much as the well up in my eyes wants to go back to your first days on earth.  The way you smelled.  The way you would glow under that billy light.  Me getting used to my postpartum body and snuggling you close on that blue boppy.  I miss how your skin felt and how your relaxed hand would curl ever so slightly and wrinkle your palm.  I used to love examining your tiny hands.  We can't turn it back.

Those days in the rocker and showing you so new to everyone I knew.  How my heart swelled with each new milestone; army crawls, feeding yourself, showing affection, walking, running, becoming a big brother. You would rub my pregnant belly and soothe my broken heart.  My dream come true.

It's here. 

The days I spent dreaming about this day.  Who would you be?  What would you look like?  How tall?  How plump?  Would I still see the tiny traces of toddler or that momma's boy look?  Would you be ahead or behind the curve?  Want to cling to my hip and wrap your arms around my waist? Confident or shy?Ready or not?

How bad would that book bag slump you over as you waited for the bus or walked through those unfamiliar halls?  Could you carry your weight?  What cartoons or favorite characters would you demand seeing on everything you owned?  Would you look back?  Cry or laugh?  How big would your smile reflect the shimmer in your pale blue eyes? 

I can see your slender arm raise and your long fingers waive.  The peek of your eyes right over your shoulder.

It's here.

All those thoughts and wonders now answered and realized.  A new page, a new chapter in your life.  A part of me wants to mourn, but the other parts want to celebrate.  This is a big step for you and me and our lives. Time to say goodbye and hello.  Let some of my fears go to make room for new, deeper ones. 

I know you'll be ok.  You're confident and sure.  You don't stumble too much when it comes to others and how they feel.  You are already a leader.  You are going to make friends and more girlfriends.  Some of these friends you will have for the rest of your life.  To lean on, to learn from, to guide, to share life with, and laugh until you cry. 

I'm not worried about you, Wyatt.  I don't think I have to. I'm worried about me and how I will adjust along this long winded road.  My fears go deep as we enter the gates of this new journey.  Will I always be the mom you need near or far?  Will I fail you enough to help you grow or will you resent me for something I've done along the way?   Will you fail and not realize how powerful failure can be?  Will something along the way go wrong?  Take you left when you should have gone right? 

I pray that you will always feel the love that I feel in my heart for you.  I hope you never wall it off and you always feel it to its fullest.  I pray that you will find the ways to show me your love when at times it will be too hard.  I can loosen my grip, but I will never let go. 

No matter how big you grow.  How strong your talents shine.  You will always have that cowlick on your forehead, that mole on your cheek, that birthmark on your finger, and your momma's love flowing through your veins to your heart and surrounding it with warmth, love, and protection.  I pray that you always feel it.  With every beat of your heart I hope there is just a small spark of a reminder as to how much you are loved and how much you are worth. 

You did so well, Wyatt.  You never looked back.  I met you at the school when you stepped off the bus, the only time you looked a little scared.  Our smiles found each other and we joined hands down the hall to your classroom.  You asked if I would do this every day for you.  You don't know how much I wish I could, but you don't need me.  You've got this.  A picture, a huge kiss and hug and you disappeared into your classroom ready to face the day. 

I've been thinking about you ever since.  I can't wait to hear and see you tell us about your day.

Linking up to JDaniel's blog to share our 1st day experience.

The Days to Never Forget

Today we celebrated a cool front of 96 degrees in the midst of steaming hot hundred degree days.  It felt exceptional. 

Weston's mouth is breaking out again.  He's been binky free solid for over a week.  I guess that throws out my "allergic to the plastic in his binky" theory. 

Waylon was extremely whiny today, but only got "in one troubles at Lisa's today".  Success!

I can't get over Wyatt.  How much he grows from one day to the next.  Tonight it seemed like his legs never ended and he is riding that bike like he's been doing it for years.  I swear I saw a little six pack in his mid section. 

Tonight things were good.  No ridiculous amount of yelling or frustration, just normal every day straighten up boys kind of day. 

The three of them stood out there by our small drying pond.  Pops and sparks going off left and right.  Shooting off little fireworks with their dad is something I'm sure they will always remember.  Weston can't get himself locked in my legs any tighter.  He wants to be there but HAS to hold on tight. 

I watch them.  Being brothers.  Being sons.  I take the pictures in my mind trying to grasp onto their chubby cheeks and recording the sounds of their voices. 

I whispered in Wyatt's ear and asked if he wanted to take another bike ride despite the quickly approaching darkness.

We set out on our bikes over the railroad bridge and into the neighborhood.  Neighbors sat out quietly enjoying the weather.  We talked about pushing through when we feel tired so we can continue to get stronger and better.  He is making it up the hills farther and farther.  His frustration showing less and less. 

He rides in front of me.  Smooth, in line, strong.  I admire how far he has come in just a week. 

"Mommy, I did it.  I'm making it up the hills."

You are buddy!  You are doing so awesome. 

He talks about gravity and momentum and uses them correctly talking back to me about how he is getting down the hills so fast.  He talks about going around the block and how good the air feels in his face.

He stops to itch his skin from playing in the grass earlier.  He picks his undies from his rear and laughs every single time. 

"Man, they just keep going back up there."

"I know, mom.  I know I can make it up this hill no problem."

He tells me how much he likes crossing bridges on bikes.  I tell him how much I love the smell of a late summer night and he responds like one of my best friends reminiscing about our childhoods. 

We chase the darkness to get back to the house before daddy worries.  We almost make it coasting down the hill together.  Me right behind him.

We race up the hill of our driveway and he begs about tomorrow's ride and drinking Gatorade because it makes him so thirsty.  "Whew!" 

We enter the house with a relationship a little bit stronger than the last time we stood in our family place.  He begs to stay up.  To stay at our sides a little bit longer.  I pray that he will always want to stay just a little bit longer.

The Good Stuff

"I'm proud to be an American"

Yes, I love my country.  I love my freedom. 

I love the people that sacrifice to allow me to have it.  Honestly, I do, but I take it for granted.

364 days out of the year I usually take it for granted. But on 4th of July when the flags are lining the streets and there are hot dogs and hamburgers, and potato salad, and chips and pop lining every table from here to the next gazillion houses 

When the warm air cools the beads of sweat that form on my forehead 

When we grab our lawn chairs and play around outside from sun up to sun down and later still hearing pop and bang from miles around dressed in our best red, white, and blue
 

When we grab the best seat with the most amazing view of our starry sky and see amazing fireworks explode in the air....

That's when I feel the most pride. That's when I remember and savor every ounce of the blessings this country has afforded me.

And yes, I still get a little emotional. It seems to get worse every year as the boys get older and grow to love this holiday as much as I do, their dad does and as much as their grandpa did.

We spent the day around the house.   The boys playing and with the help of their dad shooting off little firecrackers. 

Waylon practiced taking pictures when I would let him have my camera.

He didn't do too bad.

Wyatt had to have a turn too.

We headed to a historic part of downtown in one of our neighboring towns on the 4th to watch professional fireworks.  The same fireworks we watched the year before. 

Weston got antsy and was throwing tiny lawn chairs around until he heard that first boom.

His eyes found me as fast as they could and his feet were soon to follow.  He couldn't reach me fast enough.  His legs, one on each side of mine.  His arms wrapped tightly over mine as I swallowed up his little body with my arms.  His eyes following every stream and soon his fears relaxed and he was in awe of what he was seeing.  Only to be reminded again as I let go to wipe the hair out of my eyes.  He would grab my arm and force it back as snug around his body as he could get it.  It was the longest he has sat still and quiet that I can remember.

Their eyes.  I love their eyes glowing with taking in memorable sights.  Things to remember for always.  Wyatt recalled how much this night was like Sandlot, one of his favorite movies from the time he was 2.  He kept running to me and saying what he loved the most.  The way they sprayed, the way they sounded, the way they sparkled.  "I love those.  I made up a new name for the big ones I like.  The Good Stuff, Mommy.  I call those the Good Stuff!"

Waylon sat in the stroller because it leaned back and he could have a better, more comfy view.  He was drumming along with the beat of the music and every once in a while he would catch my eye as his arms flung up in the air in celebration of "the Good Stuff". 

It was one of those nights when everything was just about as perfect as you could get it.  No one was fighting.  No one was yelling.  No one was mad.  No one was pouting.  Just smiles and sparkling eyes reflecting the amazing images in the sky in celebration of the country we love.  Everyone was taking in moment after moment and I found myself breathing in as much as I possibly could and loving absolutely every second of it.  That's what I call "The Good Stuff"!