Kya has officially been alive for half of a year! It seems really bittersweet. I want her to grow up and develop, but I also want her to stay a baby for as long as possible…then she poops in a diaper and I want her to grow up again. Continue readingTweet
So technically Kya is officially 6 months which also means that I am officially 6 months post-partum. Physically I am doing very well, other than having a sore back from carrying around such a chunky monkey, and still losing more hair than I’d like in all the wrong places. I mean sheesh, post-partum hair loss could at least throw me a solid and shed in other areas too…Tweet
Having a difficult child…is well, difficult. Every night John and I are just exhausted from our day. Our baby is our easiest child with Wyatt being so unmanageable at times and Ava becoming more (I hate to say it) hormonal. Some days we worry that we’ve done something wrong with Wyatt, some days we chalk it up to him being 2 and count down the days till his third birthday. Our lives aren’t perfect, we aren’t perfect, and our kids are surely not perfect. Some days our favorite part of the day is when we are sleeping.
I don’t know how much I’ve talked about my family in the past few months here, but I know I’ve mentioned my Grandma’s failing health on my other social media sites. I promise it wasn’t in a, “feel bad for me and give me attention” sort of way, just as a, “this is how I’m feeling right now” way.
Today I want to talk about death.
I’ve noticed in my news feeds that fellow mothers that I’m friends with are losing loved ones in their lives, and also with the Boston bombings, more families are having to deal with loss and talking to their kids about it as well…I guess what I’m getting at, is how do you explain different kinds of loss?
This past weekend was an exhausting one for my family, both physically and emotionally. As some of you know my Grandma, who my kids refer to as GG (so I will as well to save time typing), has been slowly deteriorating. Not once, but twice, my dad and my husband have traveled out to see her to move her to new rooms, as she has gone from her Condo, to an assisted living situation, to now a full on nursing home room shared with a cranky older woman who never turns her TV off. For the past few months my family has gone out to visit often to get the most out of her last days as possible, and for her to be able to see what could possibly be her last great-grand child to be born while she’s still here. Continue readingTweet
When I was pregnant with my first child who now is 8, I always had these set rules of what I would and wouldn’t do. I’d look at other parents that were out who were screaming at their kids, or begging them to stop crying to the point of offering up candy or toys just to make it out of the store sane, and I’d think, “I’m never going to be like that”. Three kids later and I feel like I need to go back 8 years ago and give that pregnant teen a slap in the face. How DARE I EVER pretend to know what it’s like to be another parent with their kids! How DARE I EVER act like I understand what other parents are going through on a day-to-day basis, and how DARE I EVER say that I won’t do something when I haven’t had to be in that situation yet. Seriously, how dare I! Continue readingTweet