Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Keep going

He was sobbing. Dirt streaked down his face and blood streaming from his knee. And what did his compassionate, loving mother do? "Get up Will. Let's try again." "No! I hate it! I will never be able to ride a bike. I don't care! I am done!" Commence sobbing and walking away.

Now I had a choice here. I could let him walk away. I could let him quit. After all he was having a lot of trouble. He was spending more time on the pavement than on the pedals. But I couldn't. I also knew how bad he felt that he couldn't do this yet. Partially my fault, as I had never bought him a bike because there was no place to ride. Then he discovered that all his friends were riding and he..couldn't.

I knew this was hard for him. I also know lots of things are going to be hard that you can't quit. For me, this was becoming less about staying up on two wheels and more of a lesson I remembered learning myself. I once was stuck in the middle of a cliff. Ok...maybe not a cliff, but it was a high rock. We were rock climbing for a training for summer camp. I was screaming "No! I hate it! I will never be able to climb this rock. I don't care! I am done." And I had a friend who refused to lower the rope. "Nope. Not done. You are done when you climb over the top of that ledge." He told me he would wait here all day. I knew he would. He encouraged and told me where to put my feet. Finally, I pulled myself over the top. I did it. That feeling of victory is what I wanted for my son.

I told him to get back here and get on the bike. I grabbed the back of his bike and ran beside him. I "ignored" his tears and begging. A couple of times we both tumbled and it truth be told I started to wonder myself. What if he doesn't get it? Soon, my husband came to the rescue. He took my son and began to talk with him and run beside him. I went into the kitchen to get supper ready. After about a half an hour they called me out. Will was doing better. He was staying up for a few pedals before crashing to the ground. It was a small victory for the day.

Day by day Will started to go out on his own. Trying and falling....but getting up. Trying again. I have to say I was more proud of him each time he picked his bike off the ground than when I finally saw him riding. Free of training wheels, peddling his heart out, and smile wider than I had ever seen it. He did it. "Look at me mom!" he shouted as he raced through a mud puddle.

As a matter of fact, he is now so good that this weekend at camp he was at the top of a very large hill and was ready to go down. "Umm..Will that is too high." "Let him go," my husband said. "But he will get hurt." "Let him go." So I did. I held my breath as he came down the hill, hitting bumps, scooting all around, and then landing on the bottom with a big smile on his face. Let him go.

I hope we both learned something. I want him to remember to never let go. If you want something, go after it. It is ok to fall. In falling we learn. But get back up. Keep fighting. Keep trying. I need to let go. Remember myself that it is ok to see him fall. Okay to see him get up. Because his success makes it all worth it.

Monday, July 30, 2012

So..you say it is almost August??

What have you been doing? I looked at my writer and saw it has been 10 days since I wrote. I wondered what I had been doing.
Attended Demi reunion... I must say we are one awesome family. ;) LOVE this every year.

Great Grandma holding the youngest Demi. Nichoas Paul.

 Played Bacci for the first time ever.

Church picnic

Train rides

Climbing giant rocks that makes mommy very nervous

Danced in the rain at home

Got professional pictures taken

Went camping - Part 2

sweet boys

playing...during the rain monsoon

ice cream!

playing in the dirt

loving the bike


Plus there was VBS, miniature golf, putting up trampoline, not sleeping more than 2 hours at a time...we have been busy. I also have had many thoughts tumbling in my head that I hope to write soon, but for now- cute baby pictures. Feel free to ooo and awe. I do.

"Seriously mom? Enough already...."

Friday, July 20, 2012


Rachel- "Mommy, where did you go tonight?"
Me- "Bible Study."
Rachel- "What is that?
Me- "Kind of like church."
Rachel- "Do you sing a lot there?"
Me- "No, we don't sing. We read and learn how to become better wives and mommies. I guess we learn more about Jesus."
Rachel- "I don't get it. But you are a perfect mommy. How can you learn how to become better when you are already perfect?"

Is it any wonder why this is my favorite child....just kidding. Sort of

Thursday, July 19, 2012


I have said it before and before, but I will say it again.

I love you Lucas Scott. Truly I never knew what was missing until you came into my life. You bring joy and laughter. Sure, a few more messes and sighs. But you remind what it was like to be a kid. A curious, excitement seeking kid. Although that curiosity and non-stop energy keeps us all moving, I can't imagine this journey without you.

Thank-you Luke for being you.

My Luke when he was 2...he turned 5 today...wow...sigh....*tear*

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

fireworks and campfires

I have never been a big fan of fireworks. I am not sure why this is. I mean I like them ok and all, but I wouldn't go out of my way to search them out. As a matter a fact, Scott took the kids out on the porch to watch our local ones while I stayed inside with the baby. They are beautiful and all. Loud and sparkly. Make a big splash if you will. But they fade so quickly. Just when you look and say wow- it is gone. Not even enough time to really take it all in.

You know what I like? Campfires. Or backyard fires as the case could be. I could stare at a camp fire forever. So beautiful. So changing. I always comment that I am a professional fire starter. The way I figure it, if you were paid to do something, you are a professional. When I was a summer camp counselor with Jumonville, I was trained and paid. So I am a professional.

However, my husband thinks that making fires is mans work. *insert gruff Tim Allen Tooltime laugh* But it drives me crazy to just sit there. I am always so nervous that it is going to go out...and then you have to start all over it. My husband often likes the burning coals. He takes his time about adding wood. Not me..shovel that stuff on.

Yesterday, I went to my bible study and we were talking about Samson and Delilah. Then the conversation turned to marriages. Then short road to that idea was that the bible says Samson loved Delilah. But it never says that she loves HIM. We talked about relationships. Which led us to marriage.

Samson and Delilah were a lot like fireworks I am guessing. Bright and exciting. Drawing you in. What some see as the best part of a relationship. But when the grand finally is over, what is left? You see fireworks are not self sustaining. After the match is lit and the rocket bursts in the sky, we all oo and awe...but it is over. The thrill and excitement is gone. We pack up our blanket and head home.

But a real relationship...sure the fireworks in the beginning are amazing. Breathtaking really. But you can't live your whole life on fireworks. Sure it is a nice show that circles around every now again, but most of us have jobs, kids, laundry, bills, bathrooms to clean, and dinners to cook. When that new relationship feeling fades, some of us feel cheated. Worst case scenario, some of us think it is time to abandon the relationship for our next techno tonic display.

This is where I came back to the campfire. Sure it is not flashy, but it sure keeps ya warm. It may not bring pinks, greens, and blues, but it gives us light to find our way. This is by no means self sustaining either. Without care and attention, it will eventually fade too. But as we are shoveling more wood in, it grows. Grows into something beautiful. Something that can and will make it. I am not saying that good marriages don't ever have fireworks. Quite the opposite. I would say I love my husband more today than I ever have. But I have learned a few things along the way. Love takes work, time, and certainly the occasional firework display.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Party hard

My angel's birthday is this Thursday. But we decided to party hard the weekend before. ;) Everytime we all get together I realize how blessed I am to have such a great family. Also, how lucky kids are to be surrounded with so many people to love them.
The avengers

I asked him what was up with the hat? "It is cool mom" ok..

Just because my husband is cute



Birthday ride with Pap Demi

Sunday, July 15, 2012

an emergency of sorts

Scott and I were in our room today when the door flung open and Rachel came screaming in. "It is an emergency!" Of course my heart stops. "Luke is cutting Bella's hair!" Scott runs out and makes it to the scene of the crime first. Yes, Luke did certainly cut her hair. When I made it to the room, I was greeted with a pair of scissors on the floor with long stands of Bella hair surrounding it. I will also note I first thought it was worse than it was since there was also a great deal of doll hair on the floor. Apparently he practiced on his sisters dolls before he tried the real thing. How thoughtful.

In my flipping out outrage, I asked him why in the world would he think it was ok to cut his sisters hair. He says it was because she asked him to. Either way, he honestly just wasn't getting it. We had to go right then to my mom's to pick up her car to borrow it.

After getting to my mom's, Scott had to leave for work. I called Luke over to talk to him. Asking him if he understood why he was in trouble? When I asked him "Luke, when are you going to start to listen to me," he gave me an answer that made me so happy. "I will listen when I turn 5." "SO this week when you will turn 5 you will wake up and just start listening." "Yep, that is why I cut her hair. I am not 5 yet." So there you have it. When my darling son turns 5 this week, everything will fall into place. 
Look I have bangs now. And yes, that is Luke in the background serving his lifetime sentence of time-out on the chair.

Saturday, July 14, 2012

Let's go camping

What should you do right after having a baby? Quick...did you say camping?? We did say we were going campin'! And everything was packed!

Will helping out with the baby while I "help" with camper and other camp junk. Then my body said "oh wait...you just had a baby." So..

I did a lot of sitting and resting of course. Scott did all of the cooking and cleaning. Really I probably did less at camp than I would have at home. We also live 10 minutes away. Showers were close. We had a good time.

Camping is fun!

New bikes! The three big ones got to be in a bike parade!

Bella hanging around!

Not too bad..

My big helper
Chasing things with guns...he was happy.
Sporting the Steeler outfit,
New hat...nice

Monday, July 9, 2012

Nick- part 5

     When I was having William, my first, I hated it when people were whispering. I knew something was up when the whispering started. I was trying to push. Nothing was happening. The contractions were ridiculous. The nurse said something and the doctor shook his head. “I am going to let her give me a couple more good pushes first,” he said. Number one- What is the problem? Number 2- I am done. Do something. But since my contractions were rolling on top of each other, it wasn’t really a time to chat. Finally, I looked at my doctor and said “Dr. M…please.” He nodded to the nurse and I heard him say to go get the forceps.
     Now, if you have never seen these things, let me enlighten you. They look like two giant spoons. GIANT. The doctor then uses these to “help” the baby out. Unfortunately, I had to still push while he helped. Again, wishing that I would have gotten the epidural. All this was so much better when you can’t feel it. “Push,” pretty much everyone in the room was yelling at me. And so I did. Then I heard him cry. Actually, it was definitely more of a scream. But then again he was just dragged into the world with a pair of giant salad tongs. Guess I would scream too. I remember the doctor talking about how short his cord was. I also remember them all laughing about how Scott was a pro now at cord cutting. They placed the baby on me and here he was.
     Nicholas Paul. The nurse asked if I wanted him them to clean him up and I nodded. I told Scott to take pictures. I also kept asking him how big he was. He looked so little. I knew that he was measuring small in the ultrasounds. Six pounds and 12 onces. He was 18 inches long. A little guy but not that little.
     Finally they placed him in my arms. It was over. He was here. I looked down at this little bundle in my arms. How was God so good to me? How did I deserve to be so blessed? “Hello, little guy. Welcome to the world. "

"I asked the LORD to give me this boy, and he has granted my request"
1 Samuel 1:27

Friday, July 6, 2012

Nick- part 4

     “We have to call the doctor and then you have to have a bag of fluids in you. With this being your 5th baby and already to a five, I bet you will be delivering soon.” Her words brought no comfort. I have done this with and without the epidural. And I wanted that epidural. I knew I could probably get through the middle and even the transition, but it was the pushing that terrified me. So much easier with the epidural. But it was too late. Here we were.
     “I could give you something in your IV if you want,” she asked. “That would be great,” I answered through the tears. Partially from pain, partially from disappointment. I didn’t know what it was at the time, but I later found out it was nubain. A drug that hits hard and fast. I felt it burn up my arm and then it brought sweet sleep. Well, not really sleep, but rather a drug induced haze. Scott says I slept through the small contractions, and was really only coherent for the large ones. Which I would breath through until my lips were cracked and chapped. Scott tried to get me to try ice chips but I couldn’t. I felt like I would puke. The nurse checked me and said I was an 8. She told me to tell her when I felt the pressure to push. At some point my doctor came in and said “well, we meet again. I was going to induce you next week ya know.” Of course, I was busy breathing so I couldn’t really chat.
     Finally, I was done. I knew it was time. “Please, get the nurse,” I said to Scott. I felt a horrible pressure. I knew the baby was coming. I also knew this was my worst part. I was going to have to push. But because of the drugs, I didn’t feel right and honestly was so exhausted that I didn’t know what I was doing. The nurse came in and checked me and said “yep, I need to go get the doctor.” He came in and things were rolling. It was 1:15 and I just kept thinking that soon I would be holding my son. After all this was baby #5. With 2, 3, and 4 I had to push maybe 5 times and there they were. However, baby #5 decided that he wasn’t coming straight down.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Nick- part 3

     “We need to call 911. I can’t have this baby here. I need medical professionals.” What I was really thinking was I need an epidural. The van was shuddering and jerking. It would go and then jerk back. We started to pray. Begging God to move the van. To have it make it. When we got to the highway which was about 5 minutes away from the hospital, the van got up to speed. It was still shuddering though. “Do you think I should pull over and try to restart it?” Scott asked. “No. Oh my goodness no,” I growled while trying to breath. Somehow, as in a blur, we pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. We made it.
     Scott asked if I needed him to go get a wheelchair. No I barked at him. I am fine. Half way to the door I realized…I needed a wheelchair. He ran ahead and found the door locked. Yes, the door to the hospital was locked. He has to ring in while I bent over trying to breath. After a very lengthy discussion with a nurse over the intercom (she thought I was in labor and delivery instead of standing on the sidewalk), they let us in. Ready to collapse we were in the elevator heading up. Almost there I thought.

     I followed Scott in and we headed up to the nurses’ station. “My wife is in labor,” Scott told them. The nurse smiled and said ok. Then she asked me my name. To which I was unable to reply because I had to concentrate on not collapsing into a heap on the floor. I had to sit. Scott answered for me. Then she looked at me and asked me who my doctor was. Again, I stared at the floor, breathing through the pain. Scott again stepped in for me. By the time she got to question #3, about my due date, I had about lost it. Please direct all questions to the man who can stand right here. He knows all the answers. Trust me.

     Finally she directed me to a room and then with some help, got into a gown. “Let’s see where you are,” she said in a cheerful tone. “And you say you were a one yesterday?” I nodded. I was getting the impression that she thought perhaps I was faking. Or at the very least, not in as much pain as I seemed. “Well, you are a five now. I need to call Dr. M” she said quite seriously now. “And what were you thinking for pain?” FINALLY we were getting somewhere. The question I had been waiting for. This one I would answer. This question I could take. “An epidural.” “Oh honey,” she said while shaking her head, “the way you are moving here I think it is too late for the epidural.” “Oh no,” I whimpered.

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Nick- Part 2

     We pulled into the driveway and I whipped open the door. I ran onto the porch and up my stairs to the bedroom. “Ok. Here I am,” I whispered giving myself a pep talk. Then contractions started to hit so hard I was breathing through them. I yelled for Scott. I asked him to please give labor and delivery a call and see what they said. I texted my sister and said that I may need them to bring mom now. Scott came in and said labor and delivery said you could come in or wait until the contractions were more regular. Then I could feel one starting. Panic set in. This is it. And this is my 5th baby and I need to go. Now.
     After calling my mom, I went to wait on the front porch. Contractions were coming around every 3 minutes and my hospital is at least 30 minutes away. I couldn’t wait for 15 minutes for my mom. I asked Scott to go next door and ask the neighbors for help…at 11 o’clock at night. I saw Scott walk up to the porch. Mr. O opened the door. Not sure what Scott said, but it had the neighbor yelling to his wife, running across the yard, and waving his hand to go. I was in the van breathing through contractions already.
     We headed out. Scott of course started his crazy sprint. I alternated between begging him to slow down and then asking him why it was taking so long. I would tell him when a contraction was starting and he was timing them. We were down to about 2 and half minutes. As we raced to the hospital, we saw deer standing at the side of the road. Thankfully they decided to stay put. We were about 10 minutes from the hospital when things began to dim. Like the headlights. The inside lights. We were slowing down.
     “Theresa, the petal is to the floor.” We were slowing down. “What is going on?” I screeched. “I don’t know,” Scott answered. “But this isn’t good.” Ya, no kidding.

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Nick- Part 1

     Friday night, June 22nd, I started having contractions. I was actually excited. Pain?? Yes!! But by 11:30 everything had stopped. Off and on I had contractions through the weekend. Certainly my appointment on Monday would show progress! As I lay back on the table waiting for Dr. McCoy to give me some pretty good news, he declares “one. But his head is down very nicely.” A one?? One centimeter?? All of these contractions and all I have to show is one centimeter? So as Dr. M helps me up, he asks me if there is anything I need. “Nope,” I grunt. “No one is pregnant forever right?” “Right,” he laughs. “One of these days. And if I just keep saying one of these days, soon I will be right.” Then he chuckles. This is why women go to women gynecologists. Funny man that Dr. M.

     I send a text to my husband and call my mom. “Yes, one centimeter. Just one. Yes, REALLY.” I pick up my kids, and we head home. I am still having off and on contractions that seem to mock me. Super. I get the pain but no progress. The next day I began to pack for camp. By golly if there wasn’t going to be a baby, I was going to distract myself.

     I had Bible Study this evening, so I packed up the kids to go stay with my mom until Scott could pick them up after work. As we drove to the study, I was noticing that the pain was a little stronger. “Yeah, right. Maybe I am a 2 by now.” Bible study was wonderfully distracting. However, I did look down at my watch twice with a very strong wrap around in my back.

     As I headed home, it occurred to me that perhaps I should start timing these stronger ones. By the time I pulled into my mom’s house, which was where Scott and the kids still were, I was almost panicked. I was really having some pain. And it was close. And I was scared. This is what I wanted right? Suddenly I changed my mind. I was NOT ready to have a baby tonight. I wanted to go home and go to bed. Give me more time. I yelled up the stairs at my mom’s begging Scott to go. I had to get home and had to lay down. If I could just lay down my contractions would stop and I could go to sleep. As we were heading home, I realized something. I looked at Scott and said “Maybe my mom should have come with us….”