On the Day I Peed My Pants at Perkins.

Yes, you read that correctly. Today will always be known as the day I peed my pants, badly, in public.

Earlier this week I saw the perinatologist and although everything is wonderful, my blood pressure is being a bit wonky and he upped my meds, again. My medication had just been increased two weeks ago, but my body didn’t seem to be responding.

It was actually my favorite appointment of this pregnancy as I had an ultrasound and was able to bring Tessa along to share in the growing excitement of the newest little girl joining our family. Tessa did such an amazing job sitting still and was a very willing participant in my exam. Her loving and intuitive nature took over and she reached out for my hand, leaned over to give me kisses and rubbed my legs and belly as the ultrasound was taking place. It was an amazing moment in motherhood for me. I was witnessing the kicks and hiccups of my youngest child growing strong within me as I witnessed my oldest daughter’s gifts bloom alongside our family. It was one of my favorite days of all time.

I have been sleeping a lot this week and chalked it up to the third trimmest getting the best of me. Nothing to complain about – I have an amazing husband who truly enjoys spending time with his children and allowing mama to rest. This morning I was up early and since we needed to run a lot of errands I asked Joseph if we could take the family out for pancakes. He agreed so we all got dressed, I took my medication and out the door we went.

The second the meal I’d been craving for a week was placed in front of me I knew there was something wrong. I had no interest in the omelet that has actually made appearances in my dreams over the last week. I became dizzy, starting seeing spots and knew I was going to be sick. As I stood up to make my way to the bathroom a strange feeling came over me and I understood I had no control over my own body. I’ve been sick before, but never felt an imposter in my own skin. And then it happened. On my way to the bathroom I peed my pants. I’m not talking the “little something when I laugh some moms get after having a baby or two” type of accident. I’m talking full on “Kindergarten teacher calls your parents to bring you new clothes” type of deal.

I made it to the bathroom where I became sick and realized I was shivering and the coldest I have ever been in my entire life. I knew there was something wrong.

A visit to my doctor confirmed that the medication had dropped my blood pressure way too low way too fast. I was admitted to the hospital and spent the afternoon in the hospital getting some fluids and some drugs to bring my blood pressure back up.

I am home and feeling fine, although I can’t shake the extreme cold feeling. When I was released from the hospital my blood pressure was back up to 113/65 which is still extremely low for me, but a lot better than it was earlier in the day.

It’s only been 12 hours and I am already laughing hysterically at myself – filing this day right at the top of my long list of embarrassing Holly moments right up there with breaking my leg on the dance floor at my own wedding.

I really would do anything for these little girls. There is nothing in the world that can compare to watching Tessa want to care for me as I lie on a bed and get an ultrasound, or hear Anna ask me to lift my shirt so she can give the baby a kiss. There is a sweat baby girl growing strong in “mama’s belly” who had a hard day alongside her mama, feeling lethargic because that is how mama was feeling, but who remembered to kick once the IVs were going to remind me she was starting to feel better as well.

Motherhood is hard. It’s hard because it’s amazing. I’ll do anything for the joys motherhood brings me, even if it means standing in a crowded restaurant as I pee my pants.

Baby "L" (Which may or may not be a little hint at her name!)

The Power of Space, the Value of Things.

There are too many things in my life. They don’t only clutter up our limited living space, they clutter up my mind and feed the anxiety monster living within me. This monster only comes out to play when I am tired, run down, stressed out or have been cooped up for far too long during a Wisconsin winter. Darn anxiety monster knows when I am weak.

Pregnancy is always a great blessing for me because I have difficult pregnancies, which seem to increase in difficulty with their number. This may sound like a cross, but I can’t view it that way because I get far too much out of the experience to label it anything but positive and fruitful. I have grown (in many ways!) and learned so much about myself and my relationship each time we’ve been blessed with life.

This pregnancy has been hard. Really hard. Although I’m not sick from second pink line to delivering a pink little baby as I have been in the past, I am having many of the issues usually associated with 35 plus weeks pregnant at 26 weeks. I currently have a kidney infection, my blood pressure is up and I’m spilling protein. I’ve taken these things as a reminder to slow down and give myself a break.

When you’re a working mama, “break” is not generally in your vocabulary. There are too many things to take care of, keep up with and clean. Being blessed with the gift of being uncomfortable has given me some time to reflect and discern what our needs as a family really are.

The truth is, many of the things that need to be picked up and cleaned don’t really need to be in our living space at all. The children don’t need bins and bins of toys and I don’t need to keep every book I’ve ever read or every memento I’ve saved throughout my life.

These things aren’t just cluttering up our home. They feed the anxiety monster within me and when they run out of space in our home, they set up camp in my heart – stealing room in my soul that’s intended for honest and true things such as my relationships, dreams and faith.

In other cultures; three generations of a family live in the same amount of space we are currently calling home. It is written on a wife and mother’s heart to make a home for her family in whatever space they are living. It’s a spiritual gift ingrained within every women. Some cook great meals, some have a knack for decorating and the best of us make our homes comfortable for not only our family members, but for any visitor who knocks on the door. We desire for all who enter to feel as if our home is their home and as women we use our individual gifts to do so.

I was allowing things to steal this gift from me and turn me into a crabby mess, complaining about the space itself rather than what I am – or am not – doing with the space. This negativity was robbing me of the joys of family life in my home, and I was allowing it.

Pregnancy brings the gift of life into the heart of a family is so many different ways. For me, it’s complications have blessed me by lifting the fog in my spiritual life and reminding me that God’s granted me with the choice of how I view my life and my vocation. Tough times of stress and uncertainly are difficult when the temperature reads -4, the snow is falling and a family is cooped up in a small space. But isn’t time a beautiful gift! It is my choice, my vocation, to view this time of waiting for the new life of spring and the new life in our family as a period of preparation. We wait in anticipation and with joyful, not cluttered, hearts for the flowers to bloom and for our daughter to be born alongside the rebirth of the season of life.

In order to open our hearts and create the space for this joy, we knew there was only one thing we could do. We purged. We sold fifty percent of our DVD and book collections - only keeping classics appropriate to family life and our beliefs. We donated several bins of children’s toys and clothing and cleared a lot of space in our lives. I don’t miss a thing we banished from our home. Our wallets and our hearts are richer.

Our piles of things we sold to Half-\Price Books. The lady who paid me said she had never done a sale so big!

Tessa is all about babies right now. She has taken to building cribs out of legos for Mary and the Baby Jesus and "tucking them into bed" at night. We packed up the toys and clothing of the girls' to donate while they were sleeping and they have not noticed a thing missing!

Some Days the Rules are Different

Children need schedules and structure. So say the experts who have time to get their doctorates in child rearing or pop psychology and you know, sit down and write a book.

I bet those people don’t have kids. Or have one, and a live in nanny. They don't have their 3rd daughter in 3 years on the way.

Look, I KNOW kids need to know what to expect. They need to know certain behaviors have direct consequences. I believe this, we parent this way. Almost every day.

some days the rules are different. Because some days the rent needs to be paid. Today is one of those days. Mama and daddy are both working from home today.

The girls are dressed, sort of. Their hair has not been combed and the afternoon snack was indeed rice crispy bars. Said bars were handed out while mama was really busy with an important e-mail. 15 minutes later I retreated to the bedroom to sit on the bed (which has dried pee on it from a three year old’s naptime accident) to make an important phone call. When I came out the girls were once again eating rice crispy bars for a snack.

“I just gave them a snack,” I said to my husband.

“Oh sorry,” he said.

Daddy was busy. He was working on an important e-mail and needed the gals to have a snack. It seems he has the same tricks I do.

So we can’t live like this every day. But, some days the rules are different. Pretzels, yogurt and left over pancakes just have to count as lunch some days.

Locking the girls in their room to play the game “you can knock on the door to be let out after every book and toy has been picked up and put away” must count as the afternoon activity once in a while.

Who’s with me?

Daybook – New Year 2011 Edition

*and an update on baby Rutchik*

Outside My Window ...

It rained and all the snow melted, but it is oh so cold! On the plus side, our dead van has been towed into our garage. Does anyone know what to do with a dead van? We don’t want to put the money into fixing it, but it is a hard call as the week before it broke we put a lot of money into it. Grr.

***

I am listening to...

Nothing. The gals are sleeping. Joseph is working and I am “working” and enjoying some alone time on the computer.

***
To Live the Liturgy…

I am really feeling the lack of community I once found at Church. We have not officially joined a parish here. This is due in part to the fact that we are almost sure this is a temporary place for us. Once Joseph is done with school, we could move (again) anytime. Such is the economy! Before I get comments on the importance of joining a parish, I get it. I do. We are introverts and it takes a lot of work for us to build a community. I just don’t see the point when we don’t know where we will go to Church a year from now. But, I am hoping our next location will be permanent. We are leaning towards Catholic schools for our girls and I can’t wait for the community that will bring!

***

To be Fit and Happy….

Oh boy! I gained 5lbs the week of Christmas! I hadn’t gained any weight in the first half of this pregnancy, but I am making up for it now! I have never felt well enough to get the pregnancy hunger women talk about. I thought it was a myth. It is not, I assure you dear reader!

***

I am thankful for ...

A dear friend, and our two husbands who took the children last week so we could have a mama/work date at Panera. I am blessed with so many faithful women as friends. However, this friend is the only other writer/mama friend I have who truly feels her family is her first vocation AND feels called to a career in addition to her vocation. This has been a great blessing to me. She is a speaker and writer who recently revamped her blog, Women at the Inkwell. Go check out her New Year’s reflections. I promise you, if you’re a mama you will not be disappointed!

***
From the kitchen ...

I’m trying to get better about cutting our grocery bill. I’m too ashamed to even share what it has been these past few months. I know it is due to fast runs here and there, and laziness. So, for the first time ever I have planned our meals for the week!

Sunday: Salad and hot sandwiches for the Packer game
Monday: Breakfast for supper – pancakes, eggs and sausages
Tuesday: Roasted Turkey, potatoes, carrots
Wednesday: Turkey and wild rice soup, salad, rolls
Thursday: leftovers
Friday: Turkey burgers, Mac and cheese, apples
Saturday: Pizza

***

I am creating ...

Writing goals for the new year. I am currently only working on one assignment, but there are a few calls out with deadlines in the next month. The above friend and I are also working on a non-fiction book for mama’s.

***
I am reading….

I have continued my tradition of reading a classic over the Christmas break. I love classics and find myself more and more disappointed with my education in literature as I unlock these treasures I missed as a child! This year’s book is no disappointment! I am currently savoring the last chapter of Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. Where have I been? This book is amazing, and really messed up. Perfect for me!

***
Towards a real education ...

Continuing with our “book nerd” theme of life over here!

I made a special request for Christmas that the gift of toys be limited. The gals ended up loving the toys they got and, my dad did a wonderful job shopping for the gals off the list of children’s classics I gave him. Needless to say, we have been reading so many good books for little minds.
For myself, I have been putting a favorite childhood series on my Christmas list each year. Last year I received Anne of Green Gables and this year’s treasure was the complete Little House on the Prairie books.

Although I don’t feel the call to homeschooling, I strongly believe in education in the home and can’t wait to share these books (and some geeky activities to go with them) with my girls.

***

Bringing beauty to my home ...

Structure, calm voices and enough alone time for all so we can accomplish these things.

***

I am hoping and praying….

That as Joseph finishes up his thesis everything falls into place. Timing is big here as a baby is coming and this mama is done living in this state. I’m ready for stability. Finishing Joseph’s master’s degree was the right decision for our family, but I am praying the new year allows us to reap the benefits sooner in the year than later.

***

Around the house ...

Cleaning, cleaning, cleaning. Our tree died while we were away, so Christmas is all put away around here. It feels good.

***

One of my favorite things ...

The kicks I’m feeling from the baby. This one is a shy baby, but there is really nothing like feeling them kick.

***

A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week:

Lots of work around the home and my job this week.

***

New Year’s Resolution/Word of the Year

I tend to keep my resolutions private. However, I am proud to say I met all of my writing goals for 2010! I am still working on praying about what they will be for 2011. The problem I am coming across is that for them to really grow beyond where I currently am, I am going to need time away every week to work. Joseph and I are talking about the possibility of getting a college girl once a week to come stay with the girls so I can go out and work. We’ll see what prayer and discernment bring. I also need to remember we will (God willing) be adding an infant to our home this year.

***

Baby Rutchik

Well, if by chance you are not on FB (find me if you are), we are expecting baby girl number 3 over here! I just knew it! We could not have avoided finding out if we wanted to. The first image that came up when she began the ultrasound was the “money shot.”

“And that is a baby girl!” I said before she even looked.

“Sure is!” the tech said.

We are really excited to stay “Joseph, Holly and the girls.” We were having a hard time with a name but think we have settled on something. The only issue is the name we picked is a name of many nicknames. Joseph is settled on using the later part of the name and I like a different form. I won’t share as I am sure we will change our minds. But, it has been over a week and I’ve started calling her by name when speaking with my husband. So, if her name is to be something else, it better strike us soon.

***

Picture Thoughts

I turned 30 over Christmas. Yes, 30. I thought it would be really hard but so far I am doing well. This is what it looks like to be 30 and pregnant with my 3rd daughter - in a bowling alley.

Two of the best blessings in the world on Christmas morning.



Once, twice, three times a lady?

Last week I had my big 20 week ultrasound. I am happy to report everything is looking great with baby "String"! Baby is measuring a bit small, but no one seemed too concerned, so I decided to try not to be either.

The night before the ultrasound I wrote the following feelings on finding out the gender of the baby, something we have never done. This post appeared as a guest post on Mom vs. the Boys - a great blog about a mommy to all sons. Now that it has been posted over there, I thought I would share it here.

Many of you who are friends with me on facebook already know what we learned about the sex of the baby - but for those of you who don't know, I will post that tomorrow!

Once, Twice, Three Times a Lady?
I wasn’t a little girl who always had a baby doll, dreamed of her wedding day or had a mile long list of future baby names.

I was raised with brothers, “the rose between two thorns” my grandmother called me. Although I wasn’t sure what I wanted out of life I knew this much: if I was going to be a mommy, I’d have a house full of boys.

Never being a “girly girl” myself, I didn’t image ballet class, hair bows and emotional breakdowns over receiving the wrong color sippy cup.

My motherhood dreams had a different sort of theme. Frogs in the freezer and monster truck rallies sounded like good old fashioned family fun to me!

The man who became my husband had a similar dream. He briefly considered the priesthood, but knew it wasn’t right for his life because he wanted to be a father of a different sort. Just as mine did, his images of parenthood involved little boys….holding baseball bats.

While pregnant with our eldest child we both just “knew” a daughter was on her way and decided to wait for the birthday to find out. After all, “there are only so many real surprises in your adult life” as people say. But, after 28 hours of labor we didn’t care what came out of me, as long as it came out. When our daughter was born my husband almost passed out – he thought I had given birth to a still born son. In his defense the placement of an umbilical cord can be confusing at first glance, and his wife may have forgotten to mention to him that newborns don’t come out pink and snuggly. Therefore, the announcement of a healthy baby girl wasn’t as climactic as TV dramas about child birth had convinced me it would be.

Twelve months later we found ourselves checking back into labor and delivery. We had stuck by our decision that gender is to be learned when baby makes their appearance, but we knew it was a boy. Except, it wasn’t a boy. She was a girl. And in a matter of twelve months we had become a family of girls.

Funny thing about pink things, they tend to multiply – and migrate. What started as a closet in the nursery full of miniature pink clothing turned into a room of pink and glitter. A year later our living room is covered in the feathers that have fallen off a play boa and our cupboards are stacked with pink and flowered plastic dishes.

Last week at dinner my baseball loving husband found himself raising his voice to two little girls.
“That is a fork, NOT a magic wand! We use it for eating, not waving! The next girl to use their fork as a magic wand will have their baby taken away!”

I tried to hold in my laughter. But, the next morning when he went to put his shoes on he pulled out a balled up knot of costume jewelry. The look on his face had me in stitches for hours. Things are too fun over here. Clearly God knew better about what we needed than we did. I wouldn’t give these moments back for anything.

As the pink took over, the thoughts of rowdy little boys faded. In fact, the thought of those rowdy boys jumping on my furniture and running up my grocery bill has become a bit frightening. We love our little bubble of estrogen!

We’ve got thing figured out over here, being a family of daughters. Just as my two beauty queens have helped me find my own inner girly girl, we’ve decided to add to our family once again. And here I sit. 20 weeks pregnant on the eve of the big 20 week scan. The element of surprise has been lost on us and in the morning we will be asking about the gender.

The gender of the third baby has become a bit of an obsession. I’ve been counting down the days and may have even purchased the IntelliGender test. I knew I should have left well enough alone and was acting like a fool when I set off the alarm in the store and had to take the walk of shame, showing what is was I had purchased and that yes indeed, I had paid for it. There I was, red faced and holding a blue and pink box splattered with question marks and promises that it could tell me what color rompers to buy. I couldn’t wait the recommended 10 minutes to read the results. When the test read GIRL I didn’t know if I was excited or disappointed. I felt the same as I had an hour and an embarrassing trip to the drug store earlier. And I was $25 bucks poorer.

Everyone knows a pregnant woman holds the right to change her mind. My problem is that I don’t know what I want. I go back and forth daily. Do I want to hear “it’s a boy!” and fulfill my dream of mothering a sticky, dirt covered goof ball? Or, do I want things to stay the same and be the family of girls, which I have so grown to love? Am I ready to let go of that dream of long ago and replace it with the pink colored reality that has turned into a dream? Will I have more than 3 children, or is this the final say on the gender(s) we will parent?

All I know is that I feel like a child on Christmas Eve. Waiting with so much anticipation that no matter what the morning brings, it may also bring a bit of disappointment because the excitement will be over. Then again, with my luck, we’ll have a modest baby who doesn’t want to share.

But if I was a betting women, I’d go all in on baby gal number 3!

Two Years of Anna Clare

A few weeks ago my second daughter turned 2. I’ve been thinking a lot about a letter I wrote her the first week of her life. I wrote about how much I loved her, and how I was so excited to see what being her mom was going to mean for my life. I also observed that I didn’t feel as though I knew anything about her, except that I loved her. To be honest, two years later I still feel that same way many days!

Her daddy was convinced she would be a he. After much waiting and worry, she came fast and before we knew it, we had two daughters. Her arrival sent us into such a whirlwind we had a difficult time choosing her name. She just didn’t “look” like any of the names we had picked out.

She has been difficult to read from the time she started moving within me and she has been difficult to get to know. She didn’t arrive with the goal of making herself know as her sister did. She has her own world, and has a tough time inviting others in – or caring much at all about joining the rest of the world. For this I loved her instantly, and this has been the challenge of being her mother.

She’s smart. Not in the way that she will recite facts we have made her memorize as is generally easy to do with a two year old. She has no interest in sharing her knowledge to please us; or anyone else for that matter. She seeks knowledge. It’s the very air she breathes. She wants to know how things work and will destruct anything to make that happen. Things are for a purpose – and it is ingrained in her to figure out what that is and how it works. She doesn’t care much for the aesthetic appeal of things. She wants to take it apart and put it back together, its color means nothing to her.

At age 2 she is already skilled at any and all things wires and cords

Anna is as sweet and loving as a little girl can be. She needs no affirmation and takes no direction. An empty corner and a project to figure out does more for her little mind than an audience. We had no idea she knew all of her numbers and letters until I overheard her whispering under her breathe while I taught her sister. I never taught her, she taught herself, and that is how she likes it.

There is never any middle ground with her. She is all or nothing. She lives constantly on one end of the emotional spectrum and refuses being taught to move away from that way of life. This is my biggest concern for her, and one of my proudest moments as a mother. I don’t worry about the trouble she will get into as a follower. Her own impulses are way too strong to follow anyone else’s.

Who says a little girl must laugh and smile at her birthday party? Why do that when you can read a book alone!!

This makes her a difficult child to parent. She cannot be forced to eat or sleep. Still, at age 2, she is up 3 times a night. Sleep training continues to fail her. She has not yet learned to comfort herself, nor does she seek comfort from her parents. She needs to cry and scream for hours and must get out what she needs to get out. She’s uncontrollable in a brilliant way. We have no idea what to expect from her in life, and although it is a very tiresome way to live and we have grown weary since her birth, it has also been one of the greatest joys of my life. Her daddy and I joke about how every grey hair and worry line can be directly linked to her birth, but that she will be the child to make a discovery or cure a disease and fund our retirement.

She is loving and goofy, the most serious and the silliest. She has an amazing ability of communicating with large animals that is foreign to every other member of her family; yet communicating with people seems to be a struggle for her. Fearless and powerful, if there is one thing I know about her, it is that she will always amaze me.

She makes me a better person. She teaches me daily that God has a plan and that sometimes it’s hard, but still perfect. She gives wonderful hugs and her smile has the power to bring joy to me like no other.
I can’t wait for her to be a big sister this year. I just know she’ll be awesome at it – and she’ll do it in a completely original and surprising way!

Happy 2nd Birthday Anna Clare!

Mama as Memory Maker

I had big plans for Tessa’s 3rd birthday earlier this month. I did that crazy mom thing. You all know what I’m talking about. When you get this idea in your head that a certain day or memory MUST be perfect and if it’s not your children will never remember a happy childhood? The pressure and motivation to avoid motherly guilt for eternity turns you into a crazy memory making animal ready to eat her own young if they don’t pose for that picture, smile and have a wonderful day? A day that will forever be branded into their memories next to where they remember you as mom of the year. Someone tell me it’s not just me. Anyone? A show of hands in solidarity – please….

Because my eldest daughter has inherited her photographic memory from her father, in the days leading up to her 3rd birthday I became obsessed with the notion that she may be able to remember her 3rd birthday all the days of her life. I decided allowing her to decorate her own cake, compete with making all the color and flavor choices would be the perfect gift for a girl who is 3 going on 30. What better present than to encourage her greatest gift – being the boss!

I hyped up the activity for the entire week leading up to the big birthday. She settled on yellow cake in cupcake form, chocolate frosting and that there MUST be purple glitter covering every cupcake. Mom of the year was within my grasp and I began patting myself on the back before the cupcakes were even mixed.

Unfortunately, my back had other plans. Little gal number 2 did some climbing onto the bathroom counter and my pregnant self decided it was wise to climb up after her to retrieve her thus saving her from any harm. It was the natural response – being mother of the year and all. Baby girl and I came tumbling down, throwing out my back and landing on my swelled tummy.

I was in a bad way and unable to move. I crawled to our brand new couch and there I stayed for the duration of the day. Once the pain subsided a bit I began to cry hysterically that the cupcakes hadn’t been made and I had ruined Tessa’s 3rd birthday. My ever supportive husband offered to make the cupcakes himself but I would have none of it. I had promised the birthday girl. Instead of trying to rationalize with a clearly distraught pregnant woman, my husband gathered every material necessary for cupcake baking and delivered them to the coffee table sitting in front of the new couch we had delivered that morning.

It took a while for Tessa, my rule follower, to warm to the idea of baking in the living room. Once she realized it was indeed allowed (just this once!) she felt as special as any three year old girl could.

It was a very happy birthday and as soon as dinner was served (on the couch) and the candles were blown out – this mama headed off to the ER. Sure enough, my discomfort was no laughing matter. I was having contractions! An ultrasound tech was called in to do a check on the baby and I was given some good meds to settle me down and make me more comfortable. Because the ultrasound tech wanted to double check everything was going well with the baby, she decided while we were observing baby we could try to find out the sex. I was elated!

Baby was doing well, but overly modest! So, no news on that front. It was a bit of a tease as we have never found out the sex of a baby before birth and are excited that this go around we’re going to try it out. Thankfully, I was too relieved and feeling too blessed to be all that disappointed.

The day definitely did not go as expected, but turned out to be such a blessed day for our growing family. I was reminded that I have the exact man God knew I needed as my husband, I watched 2 little gals blow out candles and get messy with frosting and I even got a sneak peak at our newest little blessing.

My husband’s ability to embrace the reality of the day and make the most of a bad situation created a better memory than the one I had scripted in my over obsessed head.