Conversations and insights:

Friday night, Chad and I were talking about families and kids with friends. Sometimes we can't believe that we of all people have four kids! We're both pretty impatient--not touchy, feel-y types--and we both have just enough selfishness to make it a battle between doing what the kids needs vs. what we want to be doing. And we both love us some freaking peace and quiet! Impossible with four little ones about.

Chad made a passing comment that resonated with me and I couldn't believe that I had never put words to it, he said, "yea, I don't really feel like we have four kids though; it seems closer to three. We have the older three but Jack, well it feels like he's all of ours."

 

And it's so true; he is all of ours, and it's more than the baby of the family feeling too.

We simply adore him; his victories are our victories because he is ours. He learns how to give five? Well, that boy is giving fives out like it's going out of style, yesterday Lily said to a stranger, "hey, if you hold your hand out my little brother will give you five!"

When Owen's friends come over to play, Jack is in the mix the entire time. All of Owen's friends love Buster (why Buster? well, because he busts things, of course!). He cries for something and Garron or Eli will pick him up and soothe him all on their own; he belongs to a lot of people. It's an interesting insight into our family dynamic that I hadn't quite pinpointed yet. An insight that, as a mother to a child with down syndrome (and all the uncertainty that comes with that)--is calming. Fears of who's going to take care of Jackie when we are gone? melt away into the backdrop of three small faces who are pulling for our boy.

I need to keep a running tally. . .

of things to teach each differnt child: 

Lily--when wearing a dress keep your knees together.

Luke--when taking photos, smile and open your eyes.

Jack--keep being darling.

Owen--you too.

 

They're a pretty cute bunch, even if their mother is sometimes derelict in her duties.

"When I get older and get me a kid, I'm going to name him Kevin."--Owen 8/6/13

Life is a blur. It's going a hundred miles per hour and I want to slow down and just enjoy for a moment but don't because there's so much to do! This blog is nice because it allows me to take a moment, look at pictures and events from our lives and see how much is changing. Hopefully it also means that I slow down a tiny bit when I can...

 

Owen is ten. He started insulin about a year ago and has gradually had to take more and more shots. Towards the end he was taking about six shots per day--that's alot of pokes! This past week he got his first diabetic pump, The Omnipod. So far it's been great, one poke every three days! Had some lower blood sugars and 1am checks but that's just par for the course.

Owen is such a great first child, he's my right hand man. Always there to help and trying to see how he can make things better:

• mom shouting? --clean the kitchen.
• mom rushing around trying to get out the door?--get Jack dressed.
• mom demanding quiet? take all the kids to the furthest room in the house and play.
• mom exasperated about messy house?--organize Luke and Lily and start a cleaning team.
• mom looking frustrated?--give her a hug and tell her something nice.

He is just such a great kid. A friend to everyone, life of the party and doesn't let the trials of his life get him down. Last Monday we were driving to the hospital to start his insulin pump and I was looking at him thinking how fast he's growing up. That just yesterday he was the fat little baby who was afraid to swallow food so he would chew it up and then spit it into a napkin. I was telling him how much I love him and how proud of him I am and I started to cry a bit. As I was talking I saw him wiping away little tears; he's still my little boy. He may have his first crush (Tatum Pile) and have plans for what he's going to name his children (Kevin?-really??) and maybe I have to drop him off at parties and pretend we don't know each other (Oakland party--Halloween 2013) but he's still mine. 

This is hard, you're worth it and I'm trying.

Fair warning: I might emotionally vomit on you if keep reading. Accompanying this emotional vomit are photos from the day Chad and I thought the Mead children were ready for a four mile hike. These photos show a very trying experience for all involved.

I know motherhood is the most important thing I will ever do, but I often feel certain -- sometimes daily -- that I am irrevocably screwing it up. Logically I know that large cups of chocolate milk will be split and that we will clean it up and all survive. Yet, when it happens I'm pissed off. Irritation surges through me like blood through arteries. If you don't already know let me tell you that irritation and motherhood go hand-in-hand.

My mom often exclaimed, "I'm going to have a nervous breakdown!!!!" I remember thinking, "Phefp, what's she freaking out over?" Mom, I feel you now! I get it. Maybe I'll have one or maybe I already did (my memory is shot too). It's probably for the best.

All four of you are flawed. You're impatient, selfish, insensitive, oversensitive, negative, lazy -- I could go on and on. The thing is, I suffer from a lot of the weaknesses too. Yet, here we all are, together trying to work it out. Seems like kind of a sick joke; putting insensitive people next to overly-sensitive people. Sometimes I'm sure God is up there having a really good laugh; the kind where you're re-watching a favorite movie and you start giggling before the funny thing happens. Probably exactly like that, but by now the joke must have gotten old. Certainly he's now thinking "Really? This situation still irritates you!? Get it together."

Tone. I have a problem with tone. Not really the screaming or yelling but speaking in a tone that clearly communicates I don't like you, I'm mad at you. Staph. Then it happens, your shoulders sink in and suddenly you seem so small; I see how deeply I have cut you and I hate myself. I know that despite reacting appropriately over the three prior irritating things I have now blown it over this trivial thing and you don't remember how we happily cleaned up 1,000 cheerios together just an hour ago.

I often think, "I never speak to my friends or husband this way, why can't I get it together for the people who need me the most?" But then I also think, "I wouldn't be friends with someone who never appreciated me or ruined my dress and then later told me how disgusting my dinner was." Seriously, raising kids ain't for whimps.  Especially after you factor in that their ingratitude and rudeness is also your fault! Why haven't you taught them better? Aghhhhh!

Our lesson at church today was The Words we Speak. I felt guilty -- naturally -- and reflected on how just last night Luke told me that I talk to him angry a lot. When I tucked him in I told him he was right and that I am trying and that I'll try to do better, then I apologized and we both cried. As part of the lesson today we were given time to consider, if we had only 25 words we could give to our families what would they be.

Here's mine: I love you. I'm sorry. I'm trying. It's harder then it looks. I'm imperfect, You're worth it.

I only got 18 words down before I was blubbering and could no longer concentrate on what my imaginary last words to you would be. Where my head was at is pretty clear; I'm feeling bad and know I need to do better.

One adjective I didn't list before that belongs squarely behind my name is determined. I am determined to be better at this; for you and for me. Because we were put together to smooth out each others rough edges and both become better for the journey.

People are crazy, and good all at the same time.

Months ago Jack was hospitalized for an incision infection -- curse you stupid surgery repair and repeated infections! We are all better now, but we've learned to leave WELL ENOUGH ALONE. So, Jack was sitting in his crib in the hospital playing with his Jack-in-the-box. He had just learned to wind it to make it jump. He was doing his thing while I was speaking to his nurse. He looked over at us and asked for some milk and to read a book using his adorable baby sign language.

His well-intentioned nurse was absolutely dazzled with Jackie and turned to me and said--these are her words exactly--"he is the smartest little retard I have ever seen." She's from India, so there was a language barrier.

I had so many options, I could:

 1. Cry like a baby;

 2. Give her the stink eye;

 3. Raise my fists to the sky in agony; or

4. Smile and laugh a little at the insanity of it all? Yes, yes he is.

For the most part, people are good and aren't trying to be INCREDIBLY insulting. Granted, there are jerks out there and I will read the RIOT Act to any one who messes with my babies! But, usually, people are kind and considerate.  Occasionally, some are misguided but overall most are good. Everyone screws up on big and small things. But I try to look at their intentions. A fool takes offense when none is intended. Even if people are misguided, generally they are trying to be good and kind. If so, cut 'em some slack. Maybe smile and nod or kindly educate them, but then, let it go. Lighten up. After all the only thing we can control is how we allow things to affect us.

Dear babies, do you know how much we think about you?

I can distinctly remember when Owen was born thinking, "whoa, I can't believe my parents loved me this much!" When he was born, I felt an all encompassing love and concern for another person that was completely unique.

 

Chad and I are both talkers. We talk on walks, by the pool, laying in bed (but not sharing blankets--Chaddy has his special bunky) and quite often we talk about our babies. Chad is the only other person on the planet that cares for them as much as I do.  I love that. We share our frustrations about them, laugh at the ridiculous things they do, plan how to get them to do one thing or another. We worry and hope, but are excited for all of their futures. Blood, sweat and tears baby.

You don't appreciate or even know how much your parents freaking love you when you're being raised. We love you so much that an hour rarely passes where one of us isn't actively doing something to build up you and your future. And worry, oh baby . . . fughedaboutet! Someone should give you a heads up about how much you'll worry. Can you worry about another human being ten-hours-per-day, on average? Yes. Perfect, welcome to parenthood. Worries:

•  Will you ever be potty trained?
•  Will you ever eat by your mouth and stop tube feeding?
•  What is that red mark on your cheek--is it cancer?
•  How can I get you to stop teasing your brother (OWEN!);
•  Will you have good friends?
•  Will you have any friends?
•  Who will care for you when daddy and I are gone?
•  What after-school program is best for you?
•  Should I request a certain teacher for you?
•  How can I teach you to be more forgiving?
•  Will you know how to work hard?
•  Will you ever be able to read?
•  Can you read on grade level?
•  Can you read above grade level?
•  Will you read porn?

I could go on forever.
So you see dear babies, you are always at the forefront of both of our minds. We just love you desperately and want the best for you. We see so many of your strengths and weaknesses and want to do absolutely everything within our power (unless we need to let you struggle on your own to figure out hard things--see?!? IT'S COMPLICATED) to help you become the very best babies you can be.

Ei ya yai. Know this my babies, you have two people who couldn't be more in your corner if they tried. Baby--we own that corner.

Always remember--mama loves you. (Dad couldn't be reached for comment on this at the time of publication.)

Rituals.

In our hallway between Lily's and Jack's rooms there is a large mirror.

I do not remember exactly how this got started but going eight months strong now; I dare say we have a ritual, Jackie Pad and I. Jackie takes either one or two naps a day for anywhere from one to three hours and when he wakes up he takes a minute to come out of it.

I go in his room pick him up, he takes his cue to lock his hands around my neck and squish in for some tight cheek to cheek time. This is all happening as I'm walking out of his room to the mirror. We look in the mirror together for a few moments like this, our cheeks tightly pressed together. Jack is looking at himself and I'm looking at his as well. He determines when we come out of the hold, once he detaches his cheek, we walk away and get on with our day.

Moments over. But, such a good moment it was!

I gotta learn about being a mom!

This line is getting a lot of play these days. . . 

 with best friends

look at how she holds her tiny chipped polish little fingers

If Lily wants to get in on what you're doing; whatever it may be. . .yoga, cutting up lettuce, washing dishes, loading a dishwasher, sweeping, caring for Jackie, applying makeup--especially if it's lipstick, wearing high heel shoes. . .what have you. Lily wants to be doing it too and she uses her powers of 'how could I argue with that logic' to get her way. That and she's just about the most freaking adorable thing on this planet.

Lily: "mom! I gotta learn how to be a mom!"

I hear it probably ten times per day at least; it's futile to resist her impeccable logic. Yesterday she also told me that for her birthday (six months from now) that she wants some heel heel shoes. After a few back and forths I understood that she wants high heel shoes: send help!

Dear babies, your mother is a person too.

Dear babies,

You're never going to believe this but. . .I am a person and I have feelings. When you step on my foot and walk away like it never happened--it hurts. You still don't remember to tell me you're sorry yet, so I remind you (sometimes gently, other-times--more of an irritated/pissed off/I'm super mad at you way). I hope by the time I'm done raising you that you realize and can appreciate that yes, my mother is a human being. Maybe that'll be the mark for whether I've done a decent job raising you?

I love being your mother but that isn't the sum total of who or what I am. I have interests and things that I do just for me. And that's okay!

Owie--you asked me tonight what it is I do while you're at school (partially, I'm sure because you're staying home sick from school tomorrow and want a sneak peak into what thrilling things lay ahead).  The answer. . .whatever I damn well please, thank you very much!

Well, not really. I do (do) a lot of cleaning, cooking, shopping, children pertaining phone calls, doctor and therapy visits for Jackie, etc etc etc. But, pretty much every day I do things I enjoy (remember what I said before about me being human?), things like: hot yoga, regular yoga poolside while the waterfall is going, hiking the trails behind our house, tennis, paddle boarding on the river or lake, lunch with friends, walks with friends, solo clothing shopping trips for moi, time spent reading books not about parenting or special needs, thumbing through design magazines and blogs, wasting time on the internet, listening to somewhat inappropriate music, throw in some time spent in prayer/meditation/study, oh and don't forget naps--I adore napping.

Raising the four of you children is the best thing I've ever done. I love it; you bring me joy daily. I love each of you so much that it hurts, sometimes. I love seeing you grow and change. I also love seeing the parts that haven't changed; those characteristics and personality traits that were yours from infancy. . It really is quite brilliant being your mama.

I'm trying to give you my best everyday; I reserve some of that for me too though and that's a good thing.

So, if you step on my foot or accidentally kick me while you step over my leg--a simple "oops, sorry" goes along way my babies. Always remember--mommy loves you--

More fun at PCH!

Last week Jackie went in for two small surgeries (one to a very private area and the other for his heart surgery incision--it was herniated)

 He was all smiles before I told him what we were going to do there.

While I was waiting for them to take Jackie back I received this text from daddy who was getting Lily pad off to a friends house before heading over. Yes, those are the ballet slippers that she was wearing last year when she got lost (the time Owen and his friend took her hiking then told her to go home. . .).

 

Poor Jackie tried to jump once I told him what was about to transpire.

No matter how many times I've been through the recovery process with three outta four of my children (Owie- five times, Luke-three times, and now Jackie-two times) IT NEVER GETS EASIER!! I absolutely hate seeing them like this; sleepy, lifeless and then the anesthesia grumpies--fughettdiaboutet.

Even though, this is pretty cute/heartbreaking--as I was walking to the recovery room talking with the anesthesiologist about the procedure (funny story here at the end), we approached Jack's bedside (we were speaking somewhat quietly but not a whisper), the anesthesiologist was saying that Jack would be waking up sometime in the next 30 to 45 minutes and that it's best to just let him rest and sleep a wee bit so he's not so grumpy. I said okay, sounds good thank you, etc. . . and Jack's eyes shot open super big at the sound of my voice and look quickly around the room for me, I gave him a smile then he immediately drifted off back to sleep. The doctor and nurses giggled saying, "he heard your voice and wanted to see his mama."

This is the part that makes me sad--after hearing my voice and drifting back off he kept opening his eyes to make sure I was still there. He'd look over at me and upon seeing me close his eyes and drift back off to sleep, but every few minutes he'd need that reassurance and look for me again. Broke my heart that he was worrying "where's my mama?" So I pressed my cheek right up against his so that he'd have the constant feeling of ---my mama's right next to me---

With this, he slept a solid forty more minutes and didn't open his eyes once. I--looked ridiculous but this is my baby people! What won't I do for him!!

We got home after Jack's knife fight with two surgeons and he was wiped. Grumpy, sore, tired and hungry; we watched the wiggles on the couch, ate a bagel and took a nice long nap.

Curious about the funny convo with the anesthesiologist? Wait no more. . .

"So, um, this was kind of a strange procedure."

"Really?, What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm guessing that you or your husband must be well connected or something."

"Huh"  <---- eh="" eloquent="" p="">
"It's just not every day that a heart surgeon scrubs in and assists with a circumcision in a level one operating room. This sort of procedure usually is an outpatient sorta thing."

***what follows is seriously my response and I seriously love myself a little bit more for it***

"We take our penises very seriously in our family."

. . .he almost choked he was laughing so hard.

Somebody should probably stop this.

****if you can assist in stopping her from growing up, please contact me****

Notice the pants. Isn't she freaking darling?!?  Lily is about six months old here. I bought this outfit when I was pregnant and sooooo excited about having my girl. It was one of my favorite outfits of hers and I loved putting her in it. When the time came to get rid of it, I just couldn't do it. I thought I'd hang onto it and she could dress her dolls up in it one day.

That or squeeze herself into it. . .

I guess she's entered my world of squeezing into clothing that I shouldn't be wearing. ;)

Can I get a cheer?

(Jack photobomb)

Who are your cheerleaders?

****

This morning I went for a quick walk before I took Jack to his weekly OT appointment. Usually I walk, hike, paddle board with friends so we chat about our lives, loves and problems of the day. Today though it was just myself and my thoughts. All three of us!  I do love my sense of humor I must say. Anyho.

My thoughts turned to the people that surround me. I celebrated my 35th birthday last week and fell asleep feeling well loved. It is a rich life when you're surrounded by not only a family that you love but friends as well. A morning hike with my hiking partner where we talk about big life stuff and also what lotion we're crushing on. A lunch to follow where friends take time to gather, visit and say nice, wonderful (slightly embarrassing) things about you where they give you thoughtful gifts that show just how well they get you. Phone calls and visits throughout the day left me feeling practically like a rockstar! Not to mention the flowers Eda created and brought over that are essentially living art.

It got me thinking about all these women; my cheerleaders. How meaningful they are to me and how important it is to surround yourself with good cheerleaders. People who bring out the best in you, hold and love your babies, laugh at the insanity of motherhood with you, remind you of your husbands good qualities, commiserate about the bad, forget about what you said yesterday and remember that to you raisins in cinnamon rolls is an abomination.

While in the throws of raising a young family these relationships pick me up, encourage me to be better, and tell me I'm good enough.

Ear phones, for sanity.

Here I am. Somewhere in Idaho. That's about fifteen hours from my lovely home in the Arizona desert. How did I manage with my four kids and no husband. A few essential items, the most valuable being my earphones.

Used not only for talking on the phone and rocking out but also for noise dampening. Yes. Sometimes, hours into the drive, upon the upteenth fruit snack request--these bad boys go in and irritations and stress dissipate. You see, many demands and requests from children are simply passing impulses or loosely felt desires. Often if it becomes necessary to expend even ten percent more energy for the aforementioned fruit snack; they give up and go back to whatever it is they do back there (I don't really know, except for all the evidence I collect while cleaning out the car--which is a lot. On second thought, I know precisely what goes on back there; a lot of snacking.)

On these long drives I try to be super prepared: snacks and drinks at the ready. Potty--freshly used. Baby--just nursed (speaking of nursing--I just nursed Jackie for the last time last Wednesday---sniff sniff. He's the sweetest little baby and now he's thirteen months old and on his own! He was ready but I'll miss our peaceful moments together. Single tear.) Gas? Full. DVD player--burning the place up (with new and exciting movies to boot).

I entertain myself with stimulating conversations with my mom, Chad or friends. When they fail me I go to my audiobook (Watership Down--highly recommend) and when I need to mix it up some fresh tunes.

I love taking the kids on these adventures in the summer months (and escaping horrid heat) and these are my tricks of the trade. Bam.

Yellowstone

As evidence by the last photo, the Meads clearly cannot take a bad photo. Ahem, moving on. As part of our nonstop tour de fun we ventured northward to Yellowstone/Island Park this past July. We hung out with our cousins and even our faraway friends from Singapore! Rode four wheelers, ate an obscene amount of smores and had ridiculous levels of fun.

My ability to 'go with the flow of motherhood' grew exponentially on this trip. Highlighted by the following experience; a late afternoon four wheel ride took us to a bridge where the beauty of the river below beckoned to the children. Hearing their wishes with my mothers heart we stopped. Shoes were kicked off as the children waded into the water. I sat by on the bank enjoying their play immensely, my feet dangled contently in the cool water.

The thought, "this is a perfect moment," was just to form into a full fledged feeling when it began. Horse flies. For those of you who aren't lucky enough to know exactly what the meaning and implication those little buggers carry, let me fill you in. A horse fly will not only land on you, but, once they do so, they try to BORE INTO you. Clothing? No matter, they just bite their way through that little barrier, no prob blem o.

Pinch yourself. As hard as you can and that will give you an idea of the tiny beast, the horse fly.

So, there I was, being assaulted by one of mother nature's cronies and I had a choice to make: stay and suffer for the sake of my children's fun or leave. Neither option suited me so I did what any awesome person would do (jealous of my self-esteem?) I jumped into that river with all of my clothes on. The children had all by this point managed to "fall" in as well. Shocker.

I leaned back on my elbows, tilted my head back into the river, enjoyed the feeling of my hair moving with the gentle current, looked up at the sky and picked right back off where my thought had left off, "this is the perfect moment."

Going with the flow and loving every minute. Well, maybe not the ten minute ride back to the cabin while soaking wet but those two previous hours, yeah, those were pretty awesome.