How did I take so many pictures and have so many cute things to talk about.
It is important to me to have this little blog, to reminisce one day when the boys are big-- so I'll catch it up.
Actually I'll just add to what I've already written.
Back it up to December.
Life is short, and not promised, and rarely predictable.
David's recovery has had a lot of dimensions to it-- from worrying about the obvious, in his health-- to my mom-- and even my boys.
15 days and 6 surgeries was a lot.
One night mom had asked if I could bring them dinner because they hadn't got discharged like they had expected and had declined a tray.
Maddox was with Lance at Cabelas and Beckham was with me.
There was a wreck on 35 and it took over an hour for he and I to make it 15 miles to the hospital, and he fell asleep by the time we pulled in.
Through the entire stay at JPS, my boys were not able to go back due to it being an intensive care type floor.
David decided to come out to the waiting room and see us, on this particular night.
He was weak and pale and had lost so much weight, I worried that Beckham would notice that.
David sat at the table across from us, and he shook all over-- partially from medication and partially from nerves.
Beckham loves his pop, but wouldn't speak to him. Instead, he kept his tongue tucked in his cheek (like he does when he is nervous), inspecting Dave up and down with his eyes.
10 minutes into his silence he matter of factly said, "why you not wear your seatbelt Pop?"
He went on to question everything from the metal poles in his arm to the "box in his wallet" (heart monitor in his pocket).
They notice everything.
Christmas was different, and that was okay.
For as long as I can remember, my mom spends the holidays stressed.
Everyone schedules theirs at the same time, people are coming and going to make it at a time that Meme can see to drive-- but Weeder's family can make it from Randi's side.
The food, the cleaning, and so on and so forward.
There is almost always conflict, in some way or another. I honestly dread that part every year.
But this year, Christmas was celebrated 2 weeks late.
Without a dinner, or oiled hard wood floors, or a fuss at all actually.
It was done before baths on a school night and Lance took the boys home for bed while mom, Al, and I sat up running David's antibiotics through his pic line and telling him stories of the things he didn't remember from the accident and 6 surgeries.
We laughed. We cried.
I loved that night together.
It was unorthodox, and simple, and cozy.
And it unintentionally stripped my mom of the control that she desires to have a perfect Christmas, and showed us all what really matters.
Of course we wish my brother's family could have been there...
But I think that is important for my kids to see that everything doesn't have to be picture-perfect to be perfect.
And they notice everything.
We spent a lot of time at home over our Christmas break.
Actively together.
I truly, honestly, deeply enjoyed their company over the break and was sad for Maddox to go back to school.
One night, when I was putting them to sleep, I tried to tell them each 3 things that I loved about them individually.
I started with Maddox, telling him that I loved the way he loves so gingerly, and patiently. And how I thought that he would make a great husband and dad one day, judging just by the way he treats me (and Beckham) now. I told him that I appreciated how "coachable" he is and how I notice that he stops and listens to learn, rather than doing it his way. And I told him that he is such a positive boy, and I love that he finds the good in any situation.
I went on to Beckham.
I started by saying, "I love that you are your own being. Even though I wish that your clothes always matched or you wore the shoes that I picked-- you teach me something about myself every day and you show me how to let go of the things that don't matter. I love that you are so determined to do everything yourself. People with that stubborn, persistent personality change the world Beckham, when they use it for good...."
Before I could even list a #3, Maddox cut in and said, "I don't mean to interrupt... but are these even compliments?!"
They notice everything!
Back to school for Maddox meant the same for me.
Yes. Again.
There is a small chance that my job will not be an actual position in the next 6 months.
I spent a few days crying and depressed when I got the news, per typical Holly. But then I started spinning my wheels trying to figure out what I am going to do next.
In all honesty, I don't want to go back to being a full time nurse where I work now. Though I love the company-- I don't want to leave my house before my kids wake up and pull back in, just in time for bed...
however, I am pretty job-locked at my current title, and would take a significant pay cut to go work anywhere else.
So, I have decided to get my lactation certification.
It is something that interests me, something I enjoy, and something I believe that I will be good at.
Thankfully, I am able to take the classes from home...
Unfortunately, that means I am stuck to a computer for about 5 hours a day and this time next year, I will be working out of the home.
I already grieve the thought of being away from Beckham, his final year before starting school-- but am using that worry to my advantage, and soaking up his every breath right now.
Now is now. And three is fun!
I have learned to be creative.
Listening to lecture while playing playdough... and setting up a double desk so we can both "do our computer work" at the same time.
Beckham actually likes to play alone, (I guess since he spends most of his life in shared play with a brother)-- but I have let go of the idea of a clean area to work in-- since Legos and Big Boot Men and 50 cars and about 10 little house things are typically lined all around me.
I have also learned to say no, since there is very little time left between school, work, and normal mom duties.
I clean in the hour between picking up Maddox and going on call.
And try to get a load of laundry in while playing the recorded audio through my tv.
I still worry that Beckham isn't getting enough of me-- but at the same time, I think there will be a day that his wife spreads herself thin for the betterment of their family-- or adjust her sails even when it wasn't in her plan, and it is good for them to see that in me.
And they see everything.
Being great isn't always easy.
They see that too.
I had a hard few days a couple of weeks ago where I cried until I couldn't cry anymore...
like the kind of cry that I tuck away into my closet, alone-- and let go of everything I've got.
I replayed things that have been said to me from 6 months ago, and situations that hurt my feelings that I just can't get over.
I had to call Amanda for her to assure me that I am a good mom. My kids are smart and kind and I shouldn't care if anyone doesn't agree with that. They are a great testament to my love. And no one knows my home, like us.
It is okay that I haven't met a Candace here in Paradise yet, who calls on a whim and says, "wanna meet for lunch" or "lets go to the jump park in the morning." ...I still have some of the greatest friends on earth... they just aren't here... and though there may be some in my future here in Paradise, those friendships don't happen overnight.
I had to remember that Lance is, as he has for the past 13 years, always going to spend "his Christmas money" on him and I am always going to use mine for gas or groceries or whatever adult task requires money while the cash is still in my wallet. I really shouldn't make a fuss about this every year... it is a repeat from the year prior.
Well, though I ran to my closet to sob like a teenager alone, parts of that were said aloud in front of my kids and neither of us fought fair.
Lance and I spent a lot of our younger years fighting like roosters. Name calling, slamming doors...
I literally have clawed him before in a fight, since the only way I fought was for blood.
Age, kids, and maturity probably play a part-- but mostly I think I have learned how to handle Lance from 13 years of practice.
We rarely have fights anymore, but when one is coming-- Lance knows how to win. He loves to hack away until I would explode, so he could sit back then and say, "wow. Look at yourself." It didn't matter if I was right or wrong in the argument-- if I lost my shit, he won.
So after years of practice, I have learned to walk away from the defense attorney. Silently, and unaffected.
That. Drives him crazy!
This particular night, I didn't though.
Lance told me I was hard to live with and I told him that my next husband would definitely not be the youngest in birth order.
In the midst of my woe-is-me moment, B walked into the kitchen and said, "momma. Do you really want a new daddy?"
They hear everything.
And though I hated my husband in that moment, I love my kids too much to let them worry-- so I tucked my feelings away in my pocket and apologized to Lance... and the boys.
Then I got to go have a breakfast date with Jenn and Chaney-- Mexican food and mimosas-- time for me and my favorites. Recharged.
And they need to see that too.
Unfortunately Maddox didn't transition back into school as well as I hoped he would.
He came home sappy every day and cried over little things for the fist couple of weeks.
Sometimes I worry about that big one of mine because he wears his heart right on the tip of his sleeve. (well actually because the kid has depression/ anxiety issues on every limb of both sides of this family tree, and sometimes I curse genetics in that regard)
One day I picked him up and joked that I needed to do it every day so that I didn't miss my last opportunity to hold him, and that broke him down.
Another night, I told him that I missed him being little and sometimes when I looked at him, I didn't see the six year old that he has grown to be-- but still that 6 day old who stole my heart and ran!
A few nights later, Lance heard a sound coming from the boys' room and we thought they were already asleep. I was cleaning the playroom so he popped up to go check on them. All of the sudden I heard a sobbing cry and, "I don't want to grown up Daddy!"
Another night I read a poem aloud that my nana sent me and he broke down in tears. A few minutes later we heard mumbles from the back seat and lance muted the radio to hear a tiny voice praying to grow up slow and spend as much time with us as he can.
Yesterday he happily bopped into my room, and said, "momma, you're my most prized possession" and mid sentence he flipped from happy to crying and said, "I don't know what I would ever do without you?!"
Today he kissed his hand at school because I had held it that morning and he missed me.
That boy is everything. I just wish he didn't always feel everything.
His soul is so tender and sweet and I love him to eternity and back.
I would say that he doesn't get it from his daddy-- but one night recently, I was teasing Lance about a guy we know and how sweet he is to his wife on Facebook.
I said, you will never love me like he loves her.
(This guy doesn't just say, "I love my wife.", he gives specific examples as to why he's blessed.)
Lance said, "that's not true. I love you more than anything in the world, I just don't write it on Facebook." [Holly rolls her eyes]
He started telling me about the prayer he prays every morning. `And I said, I know-- it is the same one you say to the boys... You love me. I'm a great mom. You're thankful.
He said, "no. Not true." Then he used words like beautiful, caring, kind, selfless, sexy, and he over-praised me as a mom.
Of course that lit my lamp but I just smiled and kissed him and went on about night-time teeth brushing.
A bit later, when I was putting the boys to bed, Beckham said, "Earlier, when you were talking to daddy, I thinked you looked like princess. A real one. You looked real cute in your face when you talk at him. I think you're beautiful too."
I thought it was crazy that he could see my soul light up. He's 3. But once again, they see everything. Hopefully he'll remember that one day.
A few days after our debacle, Lance brought me home a sweet card and we talked about working on putting our marriage first. We both are so focused on raising tiny humans that we overlook each other... A lot.
Not only do I think about all of the divorced friends we have-- but also that day in the future when it is just he and I again, and that kind of scares me to death. I also worry that we are raising a society of people who are entitled and self involved with all that we (as a generation) do to idolize our kids. Select sports and honors classes and expensive toys and dressing them better than me.
I can guarantee my mom never worried about the amount of one-on-one interaction, floor time, or book reading she was giving us or googled information on our Tupperware being safe when microwaved.
We went to our grandparents for entire weekends, a lot. We played outside-- by ourselves for hours-- sometimes across a pasture with our cousins, and out of site from adults.
I sometimes wonder if we are a disfavor to our kids making everything perfectly laid out and safe-- with them the center of our universe--
I don't know that we can change overnight, but Lance and I are trying to make conscious efforts to make time for us too.
It is hard to be everything.
And worry about everything.
And hope for their everything.
Without giving them everything.
But we are doing the best we know how.
Finally I had some funny things that B has said written in my phone and since I only blog once a month anymore-- and I am already 77 minutes too far into this one-- I'll add them in.
"Momma, can you thassage [massage] me? My foot is acting so aindry [angry]" -B (his foot was asleep)
"my mind is going to implode." -B
Him: "do you want me to buy you a purple dress, and a purple necklace and a crown, so you can be the princess of the castle?"
Me: "Yeah! Then I Will look like Sophia the First!"
Him: "Yeah! Do you like her!?"
Me: "Sure, do you want to watch that show together?"
Him: "no. I hate that show." -B
"do you ever wish you could be wind and blow fast? No one is as fast as the wind." -B
B loves to wake up and tell us his dreams.
One morning he dreamt that he and Maddox and Lance were in the ocean and Lance had to cut a shark with his pocket knife. I was still on the boat with Gigi and Pop.
Another day, he woke up telling me that he had the BEST dream! We had a thousand babies! They all fell out of my belly at the same time. Maddox never looked up from his cereal, just said, "that sounds more like a nightmare."
Maddox is funny himself too. I just have to share him these days so he uses his best stuff on them:
Our friends are building a house next door to us and Maddox constantly worries about the men putting it up. One day he asked if we could take them some water or a "hot pot of joe".
He is reading like a rockstar, already mastered the kindergarten and 1st grade list too.
I know he would even do better if I worked with him more-- but I try not to put a lot of pressure on him, I think he works best when he leads the way.
His teacher told me the other day that he picked a Big Bird book because he thought his brother would enjoy him reading it to him...
Crazy enough, that day B and I had grocery shopped and B put back his own snack to get his brother Skylander snacks.
Those two have a crazy bond.
And I'd say it is my greatest accomplishment.
They are my everything.
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