Less Words Wednesday

Enjoying the fruits of her cookie baking labor.

Ah, the sugar glaze-over. Mmmmm....

Christmases Past

I'm missing my sister these days. The tree is up and all decorated. Our stockings are hung, gifts ready to be wrapped. We're starting new traditions this year and honoring old ones- and in the midst of all the prep I am reminded of Christmases past. 

I had a big sister who loved Christmas. She never grew out of opening gifts with childlike excitement, dipping pretzels in chocolate or making gingerbread houses. Never  got tired of Christmas ham and sweet potatoes (which were her favorites). She would hide the sweet potato left overs in the far recesses of the fridge or "call" them as we were still eating dinner, ensuring they were hers for her leftover meal she would eat just hours after finishing dinner. When she became a mom her excitement over Christmas was increased exponentially as she tried each year to bring new excitement and joy to her son through the best gifts and family time ever. She was so fun to be around all year, but especially during Christmas.

I miss her. 

This year is our third Christmas without her. It has not gotten any easier. In fact, it may be getting harder. Now I have children she would have loved to have met and spoiled. I wish I could see her interact with them even just once. Now her son is older and can understand more about Christmas than before. Now more than ever I want the advice and guidance of my big sister to help me in these early years of parenting. Now more than ever I need her here.

Memories are great to hold on to, but they are just that- just memories. They cannot be hugged, or talked to, or kissed, or laughed with. It's been two and half years since I've done any of that with my sister. That is a long time to be without someone you love.

Our first Christmas without her, my mom, dad and I received glass, heart-shaped ornaments with my sister's name engraved on them. I have kept that ornament stored away since then, never on display. It was too difficult to hang an ornament to honor her instead of have her there.  But maybe this is the year I will take it out of storage and hang it on our mantle, reminding us of Christmases past, but allowing her, in that small way to be a part of our present as well, and maybe even giving some hope for the future. I will always miss her. Every year. Every Christmas. But maybe choosing to honor her each year with that special ornament will make missing her just a little bit more manageable. Maybe.

(Say a prayer today for all those, maybe even yourself, who are spending Christmas without someone they love this year.)

Meah and me. This picture is old, but is one of my favorites. 

Inevitability

I got the chance to rock our 19 month old to sleep the other night.  I held her and rocked her and was surprised to feel my eyes filling with tears as I had this thought: these moments are numbered. I found myself remembering when her entire little body was no wider than my torso. She used to fit so perfectly within my arms, her sweet little brown eyes fixed on me, content to be held and kissed and snuggled. When she was that small I had a hard time believing she'd ever get bigger, ever grow up, ever be anything more than just my baby girl.

But days turned to months- 19 months to be exact. And that baby girl has changed. Her hair is lighter, her legs are longer, her brown eyes more alert and prepared to take in everything, her little body much longer and far more active. Sure there were signs: clothes stopped fitting, diaper and shoe sizes kept getting bigger. She rolled over, then crawled, then walked, then ran, then jumped and danced. And somewhere, in all of that, Inevitability took it's stance. She IS growing up. She IS.

And soon there will be days when rocking her to sleep is just a distant memory. When I will look her and find it hard to believe that she ever was a baby girl. There will be days when these moments feel so foreign to me I may think it was all just a sweet dream.

So I will take every moment I get right now to rock my little girl to sleep. I will give kisses and hugs and snuggles while they are still wanted, because I have a feeling she will grow out of them long before I ever could. And I will play dress up and chase, and I will instigate pillow fights on the living room floor, and I will be silly and snuggly and all that is in between. If these moments are numbered I want Every. Single. One. 

Boys in Motion

My friend Erin has an awesome blog called "Home With the Boys".  She's a Momma of two sweet, active little boys, and on Fridays she invites her readers to share a "Boys in Motion" action shot. I've been waiting for the arrival of Lincoln to join the fun! So, here are my boys in motion:

First, this is my nephew Kameron living it up at our local children's museum! He's an active 10 year-old and I love having him around. He spends summers and Christmas breaks with us!

Second, here's my little guy, Lincoln. This was supposed to be an action shot of Tummy Time, but he decided to just lay there instead of try to lift his head. Still, I thought it was adorable and this is about all the "motion" we get out of our two week old right now. I'm sure that will change as he gets older!

Monsters in My Closet

Here they are. Aren't they scary? Run away!

...

Okay, I admit it, they look innocent. Just hangin' there without a care in the world, in all their non-stretchy, size 9 glory. Just a pair of jeans. An innocent pair jeans. Right?

WRONG! 

Yes, maybe to a different woman with a different, non-pregnancy affected body, they are just a normal pair of jeans. But to me, post baby number 2, they are the monster in my closet. Teasing me, taunting me, calling to me- only to lash at my still very round but also incredibly flabby tummy with its size 9 tag.

They clearly must be conquered. Or destroyed. I'm opting for conquering because I like them. 

A lot. 

They were once my "go-to" jeans, my "hot date with they hubby jeans", my "I want to look nice but still be comfy" jeans. 

But they turned on me. They went to the dark side. They are now my enemy. So, they must be conquered. 

And oh the ab curls and yoga poses and minutes on the elliptical that will bring me to victory.  Oh the snack cake denials, the "I'll just have water"s and the "No, I prefer carrot sticks to candy bars", I'll have to endure to beat my foe. 

But beat them I will. Mark my words. I will conquer this enemy. I will defeat this monster.

Have you any monsters in your closet?

The Great VBAC Debate

25 1/2 hours of labor, nearly 3 hours of pushing, third degree tearing and a plethora of pain pills, spray bottles, tea pads and cooling sprays later, I still would've chosen a VBAC over a C-section.

Why? You ask. Sounds crazy. You say? Why would I choose to have a vaginal birth over the convenience and minor pain of a c-section? Especially when most medical professionals encourage a repeat C-section?  

My answer is two-fold. One, uh...fold, sounds super spiritual and one doesn't.  Let's discuss the spiritual one first.

Choosing a VBAC was first about trust for me. There are a lot of scary statistics out there related to VBACs, and as I was deciding what I wanted to do, I heard a lot of scary stories, too. The biggest concern is that during labor, a woman's scar tissue from her previous c-section will tear causing uncontrollable bleeding that, if left uncontrolled for too long (a matter of minutes) can harm or kill the woman and her unborn child. Even though there is a less than 1% chance of this happening if the woman doesn't have any other pre-existing conditions, this the stat. that sways most women to the side of c-section. And I understand why. It's a scary statistic. Even I was on the repeat C-section band wagon until my 7 month of pregnancy as a result of this statistic. But then I realized something: I often let fear control my decisions. I was afraid something would go wrong, so I decided to take the route that seemed most safe. Not always a terrible way to make a decision, but in this case I felt like that wasn't the way to go, for ME. I asked myself two things: do I want a C-section or a VBAC, and do I trust God to keep me and the baby safe no matter what method of delivery I choose? I decided I really did want a VBAC, and that I wanted to trust God for it, so I chose the harder route- both physically and spiritually harder. God kept us safe and I got the birth I wanted. Sort of. Except for all the stuff previously mentioned in paragraph 1.

(By the way, if you are reading this and you chose a repeat C-Section, I am so not judging you. I'm just sharing why I did not.)

Second Fold:

There is NOTHING that can replace the experience of having that tiny, squirmy, slimy little bundle placed on my stomach after such a long haul. It was the most rewarding experience of my life. After all that, well, uh, labor, what an amazing reward. I will never forget that last push when my son entered the world. I felt relieved, liberated, proud, overwhelmingly grateful and elated, simultaneously. I missed out on that with our daughter. And all the pain and struggle was well worth that one moment. 

Now, I understand that not all VBACs go as planned. Sometimes they end up in C-sections anyway, and yes, sometimes, that scary statistic becomes a reality. So don't take this as a "Latrice said go for the VBAC" post, I'm just sharing with you my experience. But yes, I would encourage a VBAC if you want one and if the only thing holding you back is fear. Listen to your doctor, pray about your choice, and know that ultimately the Lord will determine the outcome.

Thanksgiving Trip

(So, I'm back into blogging. I will flesh out my site throughout the week, but I wanted to re-launch today, so I did even though I still need to add some more pages!)


I don't like traveling during the holidays. It is stressful to get everything packed, get on the road, and maintain sanity, especially with young children. So this year, my husband and I made simple plans to spend Thanksgiving with friends just across town. We weren't expected there till the evening, so we were going to relax all day with our daughter, play games, watch some movies, etc. I was really looking forward to it.

However, our plans changed sort of last minute and we ended up spending Thanksgiving and the following night at an "all inclusive resort" here in town.

The trip started out a little rough (more on that tomorrow), but once we got over the hump, we settled into a couple of days of pampering. 

We enjoyed our spacious room complete with a gorgeous view,

room service and a complimentary daily gourmet dessert cart,

the free child care,

and all you can eat jello and pudding, (not pictured, unfortunately, because I ate it too fast and kept forgetting to take a picture).

It was a little difficult to get adequate sleep with the "resort" staff constantly checking in on us and making sure we were doing okay, but we got our moments in every now and again. 

We probably won't be taking a trip like that one again for a while, so we tried to soak it all up and enjoy every moment. And you know what, traveling during this holiday didn't turn out that bad. After all, we got a great souvenir.