Monday, December 31, 2012

Second Chances

This is something that's been stirring around in my brain for a while. Time for it to come out.

Ya'll remember my nephew, right? (short version - overdosed on drugs, almost died, medical miracle)

For more details read here & here for the short-story explanations.

Let me preface this by saying that I already said that I don't know why God spared him. And maybe more importantly, why God doesn't spare others. (crap, I swear I already blogged on this, but now I can't find the post. If I do, I'll insert it here).

Anyway, there are some things that happened surrounding my nephew's incident that left me (us) troubled.

Like... people from my sister's and BIL's church, which they were very active in, people they were close to, shunning them after they heard about their son's overdose.

Like... when I initially went forward at my church to pray for my nephew, and the "prayer partner" there stared at me and stumbled thru a prayer that seemed anything but sincere (thank God my pastor didn't act this way or I might not go there anymore).

Like... my nephew's doctors seeming to try to rush his parents into deciding to pull the plug. From the beginning I felt like he was getting less-than-stellar treatment because of why he was in that condition.

Like... other people. Random people. Friends reacting to the news of his condition with a well-he-did-it-to-himself laissez-faire attitude.

This all bothers me.

And not just because it's my nephew.

Did he make a mistake? Yes. A huge one. There's no denying that. He admits it himself.

Do we all make mistakes? Yes. Sometimes little ones. Sometimes big ones. But we all do.

Does he deserve to be dismissed, written-off, uncared for, left-to-die, because of his mistake? Does his family deserve to be shunned because of a mistake their son made?

Not unless we all deserve it too.

Everyone messes up. Some bigger than others. Or maybe it's that we all mess up the same, just in different ways. Some are obvious (ie. drug overdose that almost kills you), some are not so obvious (IDK... that's why they're not obvious, I suppose).

But the thing is that we all screw up at one time or another. We all do. And while I can't change how other people react to mistakes, I can do this:

I can not judge people by one mistake in their past.
I can not treat people differently because they made a mistake that I didn't make.
I can love everyone to the best of my ability.
I can show others the grace that I have been shown. Or that I wish I had been shown.
I can support people thru their mistakes, and thru the consequences of their actions, whether society judges them or not (because there are always consequences).

I can try to do all these things and more. Maybe I will succeed. Maybe sometimes I will slip. I am human after all. But I can try to make the world a better place, one second chance at a time.


For anyone who's interested, my nephew is doing well. To the best of our knowledge, including those who live with him, he has not taken any illegal substances since returning home. My understanding is that he is unable to work (ie. not released by his doctors to work), but is currently attending a local community college (I don't know why school is okay, but not work - ask his doctors). He really seems to be trying to make a better life for himself, and understands the gravity of what happened. As much as he can, since he doesn't remember any of it. His memory of the incident goes from feeling sick, then jumps to doing physical therapy in the hospital. Everything in-between is lost to brain damage. You can see a renewed interest in family, as he has attended more family functions in the past few months than he has in the past 2 years combined.

Physically / medically speaking, he is severely hard-of-hearing. He hates to admit it, but it's obvious that he's getting most of what is being said from reading lips. The hearing loss is considered permanent, and hearing aids do not help, as the loss is due to brain damage, not an ear problem.
His brain damage is still considered severe, and permanent. He has been warned that one head injury could kill him. So when he stumbled down some stairs and bumped his head, what would have been a no-biggie to the rest of us, landed him in the hospital for some testing (he's fine).

And... I think that's it. For now. As always, thanks for checking in.

Saturday, December 29, 2012

Festival of Lights



checking out a snake

showing me the lights

elephant house

what happens when Mommy realizes she left Jena's sweatshirt in the car

Thursday, December 27, 2012

Psssst! I'm fat.

Recently, I had an epiphany of sorts.

I'm fat.

And everyone knows it.
Hang with me for a minute, while I explain.

I spend so much worry trying to make myself look thinner. Wearing this outfit because I think I look smaller in it. Not even trying other outfits because I could never pull it off.

And one day, I was admiring a very cute outfit on a woman at work, and right about the same time that my inner voice said "you could never wear that" another voice spoke up that said "she's bigger than you".

Indeed she was.

And I found myself wondering why she had the confidence to wear that outfit, which did indeed look great on her, while I didn't have the confidence to even try.

And then, my epiphany. She knows she's fat. And she knows everyone knows. So she wears what she wants.Now, I don't know this woman. At all. Don't know her name, what department she works in, where she lives, if she's married or single... nothing. So I don't know her actual thought processes. I'm just telling you mine. Since then, I've found this kind of freedom.

I'm fat. And everyone knows it.

I'm not fooling anyone.

Oh sure, I might find an outfit that seems to trim me by 5 lbs or so, but let's face it... 5 lbs is not gonna get me from fat to fabulous. Five pounds lighter and I'm still fat.

Everyone out there can see me. They know. It's not a secret. I'm not hiding anything.

Realizing this, really getting it, has been so freeing.

Don't get me wrong. It's not freeing in a everyone-knows-so-I-don't-have-to-lose-it sort of way. More in a no-pressure-to-wear-the-"right"-clothes sort of way.

I guess I didn't realize how much the pressure to dress my fat self appropriately had weighed on me. How hard I had tried to hide the rolls that everyone sees anyway. How hard I had tried to hide the belly that everyone knows is there.

It's freeing to just grab an outfit, and just think two little things:
    #1 - is it comfortable?
    #2 - is it appropriate for where I'm going?

That's really it, isn't it? Oh sure, there are still outfits that I think look better on me than others. But it is so freeing not to tug my shirt down over my belly, or wear the sweater that I think hides my rolls, but probably doesn't really. Just to wear what I want, because they already know.

And, I tell you what, I think this realization has helped me more accurately see the real issue regarding my body.

I'm fat.

Lately I have been dwelling so much on the clothes, on having outfits that fit me just right, that look just right on a body that doesn't. I asked mostly for gift cards for clothes for Christmas, convinced that if I had just the right outfit, I would look better, I would have more confidence.

The truth is that I will look better when my body looks better, not my clothes. I know this, because I remember my pre-baby body. Still overweight by society's standards, but I had plateaued at what my doctors and I agreed was a nice, healthy weight for me. And I felt better about myself. I just did.

So yes, I'm fat. And everyone knows it. And it's time I realized and accepted that fact.

Monday, December 24, 2012

I don't like surprises. Even good ones.

I did not react very well to the he-might-be-up-for-having-another-baby news.

Also known as, Jodi does not deal well with surprises. Even good ones.

Handing me a 180 degree change, with no explanation, no other words, nothing... kinda freaks me out a little.

Okay, a lot.

I may have reacted by grilling him with questions a few nights later. It may have resembled the Spanish Inquisition. It may have ended with him being ticked off at me, and me crying.

Friday, December 21, 2012


I have been feeling quite overwhelmed lately.

Not just busy, but... sinking beneath everything kind of overwhelmed.

Work is insane right now. Instead of my normal 40 different hats to wear, now I have around 60. Every day is a struggle to juggle it all, and I'm barely scraping by. At this moment I'm still managing to accomplish the needed, must-do tasks, but barely. And I can't shake the feeling that I'm always forgetting something.

With the holidays coming up, our lives have been jam-packed with event after event, plus there's shopping & wrapping & cooking & card sending & decorating to get done as well.

Our home looks like a disaster area. Only a slight exaggeration. I'm staying up late & getting up early. Averaging maybe 5 1/2 hours a sleep a night. And still barely managing to keep on top of the necessities (laundry, dishes, groceries).

I know my lack of sleep is probably contributing to this feeling of being beaten, but at the same time I don't see how getting more sleep and getting even less accomplished is going to help anything.

Besides all the things to do, all the stuff, I have a lot of praying to do. Join me?

My dad had surgery on his back.
Surgery & recovery are going well.
However, they still cannot watch Jena. Which means that for the past few Friday's we've had to make alternate arrangements.

My brother had surgery on his adenoids, throat, etc. (severe sleep apnea).
Recovery is not going well. Not sure of all the details, but he still cannot swallow. Everything he tries to take in, comes out his nose. Apparently this is normal for a day or two past surgery. We're on Day 5. He has also ended up in the ER once because he tried to swallow his liquid pain medication, choked, ended up coughing & gagging, and... he coughed up two of his stiches.

My uncle has been diagnosed with lymphoma.He started chemo yesterday. Eight hours.
They've also done some biopsies because they think it may have metastisized to his pancreas & bones.

My great uncle has been diagnosed with cancer.He has decided to forego traditional Western treatment and is using some alternative treatments to ease his discomfort.

A very dear friend, like family really, has been diagnosed with colon cancer.It has spread to his liver. So far treatments have not changed his condition or prognosis. But he is persisting. For now.

Jason's grandmother is very ill.She has been in & out of the hospital for the past few months. I don't know all the details, but I do know her last hospitilization was for a severe kidney infection. She was on IV antibiotics for four days, and was released to a rehab facility. As of right now, doctors will not release her to her home.
This may force her into a nursing home. Which, quite frankly, is what she needs. Her health has deteriorated and she really needs 24/7 medical care. Two of her daughters (including MIL) have been trying to take care of her, going to her home daily, administering medication, fixing meals, and taking blood pressure & blood sugar readings. But they still get phone calls during the day, during the night, whenever her illness strikes again, and they're back at the hospital. I really believe it is in her best interest to be in a home, but she is very adament that she does not want to go, and her daughters I think feel guilty about it, so aren't pushing the issue.

Each & every one of those weighs heavy on my mind & heart daily.

This is also our first holiday season without my father-in-law. I'm sure there will be some tears, but we'll get thru it okay. My mother-in-law? Not so optimistic.

So we are walking on eggshells (did we every stop?), answering her calls for help, trying to just be there for her. I'm not gonna lie, we could do better in this area. But I also couldn't tell you where we'd find the time either.

And while part of me says this is all just life, get over it, it happens, I also find myself feeling so very overpowered by it all. Sinking. Stressed out. Scattered. Unfocused.

And unable to pull myself out of the pile.

I also find myself wondering why.

I don't recall ever feeling so overwhelmed in the past. Even when life crashed down around me, this sense of losing control was never there.

I know that statistically, women who have PPD or other Post-Partum mental disorders are more likely to develop other mental illnesses in their lives.

I find myself wondering if this is me. If the reason I feel so steamrolled by life has less to do with how much is going on in right now, and more to do with my mind's ability to handle it all. Anymore.

Is this just life for me now? Will I become more easily overwhelmed by life as time goes on? Am I destined to become scattered & unfocused & overcome at the first sign of difficulty? Is that who I have become?

Maybe more importantly, is that who I have to be? Is there a way out? I certainly haven't found it yet. Is there even one to be found?


I feel like this post is a bit... detached. Several topics not quite meshing together the way I'd like. But I've been holding on to it for several days, and keep re-reading it, and am not finding the way to make it all flow a bit better, so... here ya go. As always, thanks for checking in!

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Visiting the FireHouse

trying to reach the leaves

Mom! It's time to go in!

Daddy cooking dinner for the FireHouse. And us.

watching Daddy go on a run

Monday, December 17, 2012


A while back, Jason was off work during the week, and decided to meet me for lunch.

We used to do this pretty regularly, but he'd been working some overtime, plus his business had been providing steady work, so weekday lunches were a thing of the past.

We went to a pizza joint, then he drove me back to the office.

As we're pulling up to the door, and I'm opening the door to get out, he said "I was thinking... about that whole baby thing... maybe... after we get the car paid off... we could start trying."

Me: "Okay..." (translation "WHAAAAA?!?")

Saturday, December 15, 2012

There are no winners here

There are no words.

At the same time, there is something to say.

What do you say when there are no words?


When I heard the news, I cried. Then I wanted to get my Jena, before realizing my parents were watching her yesterday. Safe, visiting a Christmas display in Cincinnati, they may not even know the  news. I refrained from calling. No need to destroy their afternoon.

My mind wandered to the children. A freakin' KINDERGARTEN classroom, for pete's sake. Four- and five- year olds. WHY?!?

And then I realize, there is no reason. There cannot be any reason. I've heard people mention insanity. Mental Illness. Demon possession. And I understand why. Because there cannot be any reason for anyone to do this. Ever.

I pictured Jena's preschool. Thank goodness her classroom is towards the end of the hallway. Thank goodness for security measures taken at the school. And then I feel guilty for being glad her class isn't at the front of the school. Because what about those kids? And I also realize that Sandy Hook Elementary had security measures in place as well. Similar to many schools. And I realize that if someone wants to commit that kind of carnage, there is little that a security system will do to stop them.

I thought about the teachers at Sandy Hook. Those brave teachers and administrators, doing what they could to protect the children. We don't give our teachers enough credit for the work they do, but rarely do we also realize what they would do, should tragedy strike. Thank your child's teacher next time you see them.

And then I dared to think about the parents. The panicked parents. I cannot truly grasp the kind of terror that must have gripped each and every parent as they rushed to their babies. A terror that is either relieved when your child is in your arms, and immediately replaced with survivors' guilt, or is replaced by a grief no person should ever experience. There are no winners here.

And the children. The poor, terrified children. To think that the last few moments of your child's life were filled with such horror... and then the surviving students. What an impact this will have on their lives. Their view of school, of humanity in general, forever changed by this day.

Now to the first responders: police, SWAT, fire, EMTs/medics, probably more. I imagine my own Jason responding to the scene. I have to think it would change him, maybe forever. There will be some that will not return to this career. They all will forever carry those heinous images in their minds. Thank a first responder at your next opportunity. They do what the rest of us could or would not. They go in when the rest of us are trying desperately to get out.

Lastly, my mind turns to the shooter. I cannot rejoice at a life lost, any life lost. But I can be grateful that he cannot do it again. His family must be devastated. To deal with the grief of losing mother & son in one day is difficult enough, but to deal with it in this fashion, facing interrogations, media speculations, public scrutiny, all while trying to make sense of it yourself... I cannot imagine how difficult this is for them.

Last night Jena got a little bit spoiled. She doesn't know it, doesn't know why. In exchange for doing one tiny little chore she should have done anyway, I let her stay up "as late as Mommy". I let her play on the computer for hours. And then I let her sleep in my bed. Three things I never let her do. As much for me as it was for her.

Tonight we will take her to see the Elves at a local Christmas display. We will have dinner with family, then enjoy a little holiday spirit. I will do my best to pretend nothing bad happened. Not because I have become "desensitized to violence", as one of my friends suggested of anyone who moves on quickly from such a day, but I will do it for my child. At four years old my daughter has no need to know what happened today. And so I will go thru the next few days as if nothing happened, as if nothing is wrong, as if my mind weren't wandering to that horrific incident time and time again. I will hold back the tears as best I can. I will be forever grateful for my daughter.

And should she overhear anything, from anyone, about what happened, I pray that God would give me the words.


Dear God,

Lord, we come to You today and ask that You be with the people of Newtown. We ask that You comfort all those directly and indirectly involved with the shooting. We don't understand why these things happen, nor how anyone could ever be comforted in such tragedy, but we do trust in You to do the impossible. Hold them close in their time of need.
Lord I also ask that You guide all of our minds, especially those in law enforcement and education, to find in this a way to protect our children in the future. Let this be used as a learning experience, let some tiny bit of good come from this.
Father, there are not enough words, not the right words, to express what we are all feeling, even thinking. But You know our minds and our hearts. Hear our unspoken.


Friday, December 14, 2012

Holidays as an Introvert

One of the simplest explanations for the difference between introverts & extroverts I've ever heard is that while being around people energizes the extrovert, it stresses & drains the introvert. And vice versa.

A bit simplistic description, but it's the one that resonates the most for me, helping to underestand the difference between my husband (extrovert) and I (introvert).

Over the next eight days, we have seven holiday get-togethers, one volunteer activity, and one class. In the next 13 days, we have 18 different activities scheduled.

This rolls right off of Jason's back. He knows we'll be busy, but no biggie. In fact, though he won't say it, I think he loves it.

The mere thought of it stresses me. Not the busyness. I can handle busy. The thought of all those social interactions, one after another, with no rest or alone time in sight.I know it will stress me.

I also know it will stress my daughter (also an introvert).

Over the past four years I've learned that to keep Jena on a happy balance, I need to watch how much we do outside the home. She needs time at home. She needs time in her room. She needs her "rest time / quiet play". Her alone time. If we have too much going on she becomes easily agitated and extra whiny until she gets that time.

And so I've learned to watch our schedule. Tonight we will eat out and rush her to gymnastics class. So tomorrow we will eat in and have no plans. An every-other-day schedule, when I can manage it, seems to work well. Gets Jason out of the house enough to keep him energized and focused, gets Jena back in the house enough for her to re-energize. And keeps me sane as well.

The holidays make that type of schedule incredibly difficult.

It makes me wonder if extroverts are just naturally happier around the holidays than introverts. The extra parties and family gatherings, all these social events... they nourish the extrovert personality. But they also drain the introvert. The holidays, at least in our society, seem to be built for the extrovert.

But then again, so many things in our society are, aren't they?

Monday, December 10, 2012

Respect is given as respect is earned

I got my performance review at work a few days ago.

For a little background reference, all the members of management in your division get to rate you, not just your direct supervisor. So for me, that means 20+ people.

My manager (who is my direct supervisor) started off by saying that my review was not as good as he had pushed for, but it's his job to relay all the feedback to me.

Good, good, good, blah, blah, blah... I have one area for improvement.

Some members of management feel that in my interactions with them, I could show a little bit more respect, a bit of deference to their title.

Blah, blah, blah.

At the end, he asked if I had any questions or comments.

I just smiled. And said something like this (this is a paraphrase of what I told my boss, to the best of my recollection):

"You see... about showing more respect to specific members of management... I don't believe it is in me to treat people differently based on their title or position. Whether it is the guy sweeping the floors or the president, respect is given as respect is earned. And that's not gonna change."

Now, my manager has known me for eight years. Has been in my chain of command for six of those years (though not always my direct supervisor).

He said he knew, and he understood. And some people might say that is admirable. But it was his job to relay the feedback from all members of management.

I think it's the first time I've ever smiled so much after receiving my "areas of improvement".

Because, you see, to me this is a character issue. And if you're gonna lower my score because I won't lower my standard of character... then bring on the low score. I'll take it any day.

As always, thanks for checking in!

Saturday, December 8, 2012


So, I think I mentioned before (did I?) that I recently started volunteering in our church nursery.

I wanted to become more involved, give back, and was drawing a blank on ideas. But I worked in the nursery at church as a teenager, have a kid myself, and we're going to church anway. I figured it would be a great fit.


I started back in August. And I dread it. Every time.

I don't know why. I don't have a reason. I just don't wanna go. It makes me not want to go to church that day. And that is not good.

I signed up for one service a month, but they are short-staffed, so it's been two services a month since I started.
I really feel like I should quit, you know, the whole dreading-church thing and all, but knowing they're short-handed makes me feel like I can't abandoned them just because.

So I've decided to give it six months. I always said that about a job - you have to give it six months before you really know if you like it or not - so I'm applying that logic to volunteering now too.

At the end of that six months, we'll see.


Since I'm looking for another way to get involved, I decided I would also volunteer for the Loaves & Fishes ministry delivering meals to members who need them (recent surgeries, shut ins, new baby, etc). Just got started, and have yet to bring a meal, but I'm pretty excited about this one. I remember how much that meant to me after Jena was born.

And it sounds like it's pretty well organized. They only send you  names for members who are in your area, and said that at current rates, I would only  need to deliver a meal 3 - 4 times a year. Much less than I anticipated, but with my cooking skills, maybe that's a good thing, LOL.


And... (starting to sound like I'm on a volunteering roll, huh?) since our church's Facebook page is seriously lacking, I volunteered to help with that as well.

I hope they let me. I have to submit a plan with my ideas for improvement to be presented to the church staff before they grant me administrator rights.

I understand being careful with security, but quite frankly the person handling it now & who will be key in decision making doesn't seem to understand how social media works. At all. I'll spare the details, but what he wants done with our FB account, well... FB isn't exactly the appropriate media for it. I suggested some other options, but it fell on deaf ears, he wants it done on FB. So... not sure how this is going to go. But I'm willing to give it a shot!


And yes, there's more! Jason & I have been thinking / talking about leading a small group in our church for a year now, and we finally took the plunge and contacted our associate pastor about it. Neither of us have done anything like this before, plus with Jason's schedule as a firefighter, 1/3 of the nights I will be running it myself, so... eeek! We were nervous.

We suggested a couple of areas that we were interested in leading, and we are now leading the Dave Ramsey Financial Peace University as of the end of January!

It works out well, as we were actually talking about taking the class again, to help us get back on / stay on track with our finances, so leading it will be just even moreso.


Excited to be serving. Glad to be giving back. Glad to be back.

As always, thanks for checking in!

Thursday, December 6, 2012

I have a History Degree

That's right folks, you are reading the blog of a trained historian.

Trained. Not practicing. LOL.

I have a bachelor of arts in History. A whole five years dedicated to the subject.

And I spent years wishing I had a different degree, a more useful degree. But recently I've realized several reasons why having a degree in History is all kinds of awesome.

1. A degree in History is basically a degree in finding s*** out.
That's right, ladies & gentlemen, if I put my mind to it, I can find just about anything out. Just ask my husband.

The education you receive while in the History program is research: how to hunt down references, dig thru primary vs secondary vs tertiary sources, determine validity of information found, make inferences and draw conclusions from your research, etc.

I have gained a reputation at work for "knowing everything". I don't know everything. It's not about what I know. It's about the fact that if I don't know, I can find the answer. Relatively quickly.

2. A degree in History equals winning more arguments than you lose.
It's true. And it drives the people around me nuts. If I'm going to engage you in an argument, I'm going to have the information to back it up. I'm going to take the time to verify my position first. It's what I was trained to do.

And if I happen to slip and let you engage me before I do so, and am somehow proven wrong, I will sure as heck take the time to make sure that doesn't happen again. I will gather my information, verify my stance (or change it, if need be), and I will make darn sure I am ready for the next time that topic comes up.

In our current society, this is not the case. It seems like nowadays people are happy enough to base their arguments on feelings & emotions, or the latest media headline, instead of taking the time to verify their information before engaging in conversation about a subject. When you start spewing historical data at them to make your case, they have no choice but to back down or to reveal their ignorance. Either way... win!

* this may also be the reason my mom once told me I should be a lawyer

3. A degree in History means never needing CEUs to maintain current in your field.
This is my latest revelation. Yes, it's nice to keep up on current events, think about how they tie into a region / the world from a historical perspective. Yes, it's interesting to read up on new historical / archeological finds, or history from areas (or eras) you didn't focus on in your studies. Or that you did.

But... it's history. There's no updated techniques to learn. No fast-moving developments that need to be kept up on. No mandatory CEUs.

4. But... A degree in History means there's always more to learn. If you want to.
While it's awesome that you don't need to keep up with your education, there is enough historical knowledge out there that if you have an interest in it, there's plenty more to learn. Always.

5. A degree in History means writing off a vacation in the name of education.
Some of the most fascinating places I've been have been full of history. You can go on vacation, and slip in a historical visit at the same time.

In short, you can actually visit these places. They exist! You can see them. You can touch them. You can take your picture there. And that, in my humble history bug opinion, is awesome.

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Stupid, but amused me

This is just a script of a stupid conversation I had at work. Just because I was amused by it and thought I'd share.

To understand the initial context, you need to know that at my office we have both open meeting rooms, and private meeting rooms. I am the "owner" of one of those private rooms, meaning you have to request the room thru me (via our reservation system), and I accept or deny based on room activities. If it's already booked, the system will automatically deny.

So the other day I get a phone call:

Woman*: I tried to reserve room 208, but the system said denied so I just want to make sure I had it.
Me: It said denied?
Woman: Yes. So I just wanted to make sure I had it.
Me: Okay... let me check. What day & time?
Woman: Today from 3pm-4pm (it's 2:45pm when she called).

{{ pause while I check the system }}

Me: No, you don't have it. It's booked.
Woman: But it said it was open
Me: I don't know why. It's reserved for a training session from 2pm-5pm.
Woman: But I have it reserved
Me: No, you don't. It's reserved for a training session. Did you get a denial?
Woman: Yes, the system denied me, but I still thought I had it

*note that the entire conversation she is cracking her gum in my ear*
Woman: Well, what about room 310?
Me: I don't know. I don't own that room. You'll have to talk to the owner.
Woman: Well, do you know if it's open?
Me: I don't know. You'll have to talk to the person who owns that room. I don't control it.
Woman: Well, do you know who that is?
Me: You can look it up in the system. (which I'm assuming is how she found my name)
Woman: Yeah, can you do that for me?

I give her the name of the room owner and we hang up.

I just don't understand how some people function in life. I really don't. She doesn't understand that the system denying her request, means that she does not have the room reserved? I'm not familiar with her personally, so I'm just hoping maybe she was having an "off" day. Right? Please? Geesh!

* name withheld to protect the stupid

Monday, December 3, 2012

Just my brand of crazy

A few nights later, I calmly talked to him about the baby-possibility again.


I'd already pushed my luck.

And I apologized for going all inquisitiony on him earlier.

Luckily he seemed to understand that it's just my brand of crazy.

Sunday, December 2, 2012


For WEEKS Jena has been fighting sleep and asking that I check on her multiple times.

Finally figured it out, when the other night she asked if my check could be a "sleep check" (ie. would I still check on her if she fell asleep?).

She's been forcing herself to stay awake because she was afraid if she fell asleep I wouldn't come in at all. Now I just promise her that I'll still check on her, even if she's sleeping, and we're good to go.

Love my baby. And a good reminder that I need to ask her WHY she's doing something when her behavior is off. That little question has saved me so much grief in this parenting gig.
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