A Summer Park Day

We got a lot of rain last week and with rain comes cooler weather! Hooray!
On Friday, it was breezy and cool outside so I decided to let the kids ride bikes to the park. My goal has been to get Spidey riding the tricycle (even though it's pink) because he is getting a big kid bike for his birthday in 6 weeks.

Petey is showing off her muddy pants. Her bike fell over on the way to the park and she literally landed in the deepest puddle. It was maybe 1-2 inches deep and she got all muddy. Of course, I put her in nice clothes to go to the park (What was I thinking?!) but luckily, it all washed out.

Spidey had the time of his life climbing and swinging on these bars like his big sis does.

He was really excited to be getting sandy and muddy and not having me get angry about it. That boy loves to be dirty!

Another picture of Petey's muddy clothes. They were starting to dry by this point but she was still pretty dirty.

Spidey riding the awesome pink trike. :)

Petey is still amazing at riding her Pinkalicious bike and had a great time riding around on the basketball court.

Petey was such a nice big sister and taught Spidey how to climb up this swirly bar. She talked him through the whole thing and helped him reach the platform over on the side.

This boy LOVES slides. And dirt. And being outside. Best day of his life!

My favorite picture of my boy from the day. He was so so so so happy to have dirt all over his face and be out in the sun. We don't do this a lot during the summer so it was the perfect break from our normal routine.

And last, I wanted to include a video of Spidey riding the tricycle. This was literally his first day riding it and I'd say he did fantastic! It took Petey a month or two to start riding the tricycle to the park when she was his age but he got right on it and knew exactly what to do! I'm so proud of him.


And that's how Suze sees it.

Dancing in the Rain

When I was a teenager, I hated rain. Because my life back then revolved around my hair being perfect, I could not stand the rain messing it up and bringing out my frizzy curls.
I never appreciated what rain did for our land and the hot weather.

Now that I'm a bit older, I understand a little bit more how important rain is, especially in Arizona.
I am certainly grateful for the weather cooling off so we can actually spend time outside. 

Dancing in the rain is now one of our favorite things to do.

I've learned this with my trials also. How much time has been spent complaining about poor me? How much time have I wasted focusing on what I don't have?
I know it's ok to be sad sometimes but it shouldn't be something that runs my life daily.

I am grateful for trials. I am grateful for motherhood.

I am grateful that I have the opportunity to dance in the rain.

The Good Outweighs the Bad

I've talked many times before about the blessings that I get to call my children. You all know them, right?

These little peeps that look like angels?
Well, they're not.
I mean, they're actually a good little bunch and I feel so lucky to have the two of them with me all day, every single day.
Petey is the best little helper and has learned how to fold AND put away laundry. No, I'm not kidding. {Whoever said a 4 year old couldn't handle some bigger chore responsibilities around of the house was cray cray...because this little girl holds her own.}
And Spidey is a sweet little kiddo. He means well but lacks the responsibility of his older sister so he isn't as much of a cleaning helper but he helps when he can {More like, when he wants to...}.

But today? Where do I even start? Today was a mess. Both kids woke up cranky and I knew it was going to be a hard day. We had some little friends over to play and they played pretty well {Aside from Spidey being a bully to the girlies.} but the minute our playdate friends had to leave, Petey burst into tears and literally kept up the water works for about an hour.
What the...?
She calmed down for lunch and the kids began fighting so I decided to lay down with Spidey to try and get him to nap {Refer to previous post where I talk about him giving up naps...}. It didn't work...

So then with pajamas on my boy and a cranky but trying to be happy little girl, we went on a walk to the mailbox. Fresh air seemed to help for about 10 minutes before the fighting and crying ensued once again.

So being the smart mom that I am, we hopped in the car to go to the store...because every mom with cranky kids should go to the store. {What was I thinking?}

As you can assume, the store was a disaster. Spidey threw a fit in the cart and kept crying. Petey had her little attitude flare on and wasn't being nice and this momma was just trying not to yell at her kids in front of everyone at the store.

Then kids needed to clean their playroom tonight so they could get their favorite meal, macaroni and cheese. Here's the details in short:

Petey cried and kept saying it was too hard.

Spidey kept throwing toys everywhere.

So with a pb&j and a kiss, they were both sent to bed.

I often feel guilty for complaining about my kids. I know many women who just want to be mothers and I feel selfish when I complain about the hard days that we have. I even feel guilty because and I sit there and think to myself, "We want more kids? What are we thinking?!" but the good most assuredly outweighs the bad and all it takes is one little comment or hug and my kids have me smiling again.

Like when Spidey just needed his mom to rock him for a minute before bed.

Or when Petey tells me I'm the best mom she's ever had {because apparently, I have competition?}.

Or when Spidey runs around hitting a plate and a fork together and saying, "Go away, cats!" or "I need to find Philly. Philly!" because he's watched An American Tail 3 times today.

They make any hard day worth it.

And they make me want to do it all again the next day.

And that's how Suze sees it.

The No-Longer-A-Baby Phase

Oh my baby boy.
We have started a new phase in our home. It's called the not-having-a-single-baby-type-person phase. All it takes is acceptance from this momma. I'm trying to accept the fact that my son is no longer a baby. Not at all. Nothing about him says baby anymore.
The naps were the last thing on my list to go. Aside from the crib last year and diapers a few months ago, the only thing we had left that seemed "baby-ish" were the naps he still took.

Petey stopped napping around 2.5 years old and has never looked back. She rarely is tired before bedtime so we knew she wasn't missing anything.

At about the same age as his sister, Spidey stopped needing naps. But I needed him to take one so we wouldn't allow him to stay up (Sure, you can think I'm mean). Some days, it would take him 20 minutes to fall asleep and some days it would take him over an hour.
But then the getting in trouble during naptime started. I've already told you about the poop painting and permanent marker episodes on his wall. He literally had over 2 hours to do each of those naughty things because he was totally silent and I thought he was sleeping! I tried putting him in more clothes, making sure all markers and other things were out of the room but this past Friday, he poop painted again and I realized we had to close out an era of this little boy's life.

So goodbye, naps. I am extremely sad to see them go because I have loved the one on one time with Petey and especially the quiet time where I can relax after a busy morning.
And yes, most of you are thinking, "You should still have quiet time for the kids." but if you knew my son, you'd be laughing at that comment. Quiet time and Spidey just don't go together. He is just so darn busy!

So here's to the "no baby" era in our home. It's a weird but kind of exciting and only slightly sad feeling.

PS: Has anyone read "Bonds that Make Us Free" before? If you haven't, I highly recommend it. I have only read the first chapter and already, I see a happier and more fulfilling life ahead of me. Seriously! I had no idea some of the habits I had formed regarding my marriage and my parenthood that need to change.

PSS: I saw a new-to-me doctor today, a family physician named Dr. Rodarte, and I highly recommend that nobody ever go see him. And if he is your doctor or your cousin or someone you know, I'm sorry for offending you but at the same time, I've never had a worse experience at a doctor's office. He spoke rudely to my children and kept getting annoyed with them when they would talk. He barely spoke English and it was hard to understand him. And I didn't even realize my appt was over 30 seconds after it began, when he said, "Follow me.". I left my purse in the room and everything before getting up to the front and realizing he was leaving me to the front office to check out. It was just plain WEIRD and AWKWARD and RUDE. But luckily, my favorite family physician will take my insurance if I switch the specific plan so that is what I did today. Phew!

The Year Before School

I absolutely love this picture of my Petey at her 4th birthday photo shoot. 

I don't know where the summer went but we are only a year away from this girl going to Kindergarten now.

I see all of the posts of parents sending their kids to school and I cannot believe that will be us next year.

Petey is one of the only kids her age that I know of that isn't going to preschool this year and we made that decision as her parents.

It doesn't necessarily have to do with money.

It has more to do with the fact that we don't think our little girl needs preschool this year.

But that's not really something I'm worried about proving. We know our little girl better than anybody else and I'm just excited to have this last year with her at home with me full time.

So back to the picture. I love it. It explains my girl so well.

Pinkalicious is definitely her top pick when it comes to library books and she LOVES riding that bike (when it isn't 100 degrees outside).

Size 24 month shorts on her 4 year old body.

Big grin on her face but eyes wandering from the camera.

It's just the perfect picture of Petey and I'm glad I'll always have it.

I want to remember her at this age and remember what it was like to have such a smart, caring, sometimes defiant little girl with me all day long because I know when I blink, next year will have rolled around and she will be waving goodbye to me and ready to start her first year of school.

I hope we can make the best of this last year we have together at home.

Change

It's hard to explain quite what I'm going through right now but trust me when I say, it really seems like too much.
I had a little bit of a heads up regarding certain things that were going to happen this week and I thought that would make yesterday easier on my emotions---turns out, it didn't.
Yesterday, I was released as the 2nd counselor in the Relief Society Presidency in my church. I was only called into the presidency 5 months ago but the rest of the presidency had been in for 3 years. I never really gave that thought when I was first called. I never really thought about being released so soon after becoming attached to something that I knew was not going to be mine forever---but I did get attached and I did get extremely emotional yesterday as I heard my name called from the pulpit.
I've been trying to decide why that is. Why was I so emotional? I know callings aren't forever. But for the first time in my life, I did not want to be released.
You see, Boss and I have been in Primary most of our adult lives. I've only had a 4 month break and then most recently a 6 month break and Boss has had about a 1 year break but has never had a calling outside of Primary. So when we've gotten released from those various callings, I don't want to say we were excited to be leaving those sweet kids but we were always excited about what could be coming next.
Pessimism is becoming too much a part of my life and when I got released from my calling this time, I hardly believed there would be anything I could love as much as being a part of that presidency.
I'm not angry, just sad.
And since I don't have a new calling yet, I'm nervous about what is to come next.
I will miss feeling like I am deeply a part of something. I will miss having built in friends because I'm not the greatest friend maker. I know I will stay friends with my presidency but when you've been feeling kind of lonely, weekly meetings and other things that are happening throughout each week help you to forget that lonely feeling. I will miss feeling like I'm needed because I don't often feel that way, unless it is regarding certain adorable children that I get to call my own.
I know it was for the best and I know with all my heart that our new Relief Society President is the best thing for our ward right now.
I know it isn't all about me. My family reminded me of that often growing up and I'm not saying that in a resentful way. I know I tend to think of myself and get down on myself often and whining has never gotten me anywhere but sometimes, all I want to do is whine. And I do tend to have a hard time living without a best friend so losing that the many times it has happened in my life has kind of made me not very eager to make friends.
So my sadness is definitely selfish. I'm not sad about who was called into the presidency. I'm selfishly sad.
I just feel like there is a lot on my plate right now and feeling so connected to Relief Society is something I am going to miss because it was an escape from the every day things that stress me out.
But with all of the trials I am facing these days, I am hoping it is for the better. I know I need family time right now and I know I need to learn how to cope without a built-in escape and I'm hoping that this will help me learn to do that.
I know my sadness will leave. I know I have so many things to feel grateful for and I am beyond grateful for all of the things I've been blessed with. I just need to make it through these trials and be willing to let go of the stress so I can find the happiness I had a week ago.

So that's what I'll be working on this week. And I didn't mean for this whole post to be about my being released. It really hasn't ruined my life. :) I'm just a little bit stressed out with life right now.

Why I Hate Thursdays

Thursdays...

They used to be just another day of the week but not these past 4 weeks.

Let's take a look back, shall we?

July 19th, 2012:

My car was acting weird and spent the entire day in the shop. My RS President was nice enough to take the kids and I to McDonalds so we could get out of the house and my dad ended up letting us borrow a car to take Petey to ballet.

Also, a key part of that week was having a conversation with my friend (same lady, RS Pres, but also a friend and that's an easier thing to say I guess) and her telling me if we ever needed a ride anywhere, she would be happy to help.

July 26th, 2012:

I was ready to leave the house for Petey's ballet class when the garage door broke. My brother in law and I tried to lift it but it smashed down and broke even more. Therefore, my car was stuck. My parents happened to be out of town and I couldn't think of anyone else to call so the above mentioned friend came to my rescue...two weeks in a row.

And as luck may have it, they had to replace the entire garage door because of how it smashed down when we were trying to lift it up.

August 2nd, 2012:

Spidey, my little bougar boy, stayed quiet his entire nap and I thought he had fallen asleep quickly (something he normally doesn't do).

It wasn't until I started smelling poop that I ran in to see what had happened.

 That picture doesn't even do it justice. It was on the ceiling, the walls, the bed, the pillows, and of course, all over my son.

I stuck that kiddo in the shower with strict instructions to his sister to NOT let him out until I came and got him and I started scrubbing the walls. I got most of it off before it was time for ballet class once again and we had to leave.

I finished cleaning it that night but with the help of my cousin, we bleached the walls and pulled the bed out that weekend, only to find more poop. Yeah, it was not pretty.

I'm glad that incident is over because there was a lot of crying on my part. Lucky for my boy, I tried not to yell but when I don't yell, my emotions usually build up and I cry instead.

August 9th, 2012:

Of course, I should've known...

Once again, I put Spidey down for a nap and all was immediately quiet. It wasn't until I went to get him up 3 hours later that I witnessed this scene...

Again, I wish the picture did the damage justice. At first I assumed it was a red crayon because they ahd been coloring earlier. But Petey climbed up on the bed and said, "Mom, he colored on the wall with marker!"

Then my heart sunk because the day before, I had been labelling bins in their room with a red permanent marker.

And yes, that huge mess just so happens to be red marker. And not only is it on the walls, it is on the bed, the sheets, the pillows and he was even nice enough to leave us a picture in the closet as well.

So in case you were wondering, I am NOT looking forward to next Thursday. I fear what may happen in my home.

Maybe we'll stay away from our house that day and nobody will nap and I will just keep my eye on the kids 24/7. Maybe that'll do the trick.

And that's how Suze explains why she now hates Thursdays.

PS: I was explaining to my sister on the phone all of these crazy things and I told her I hated Thursdays and Petey piped in and said, "Mom, we don't say hate." At least I'm teaching her something, right? 

One year down, many more to come!

A year ago, I was doing a lot of this...

 And very little of this...

A year ago, I was trying so hard to count my blessings while feeling like my whole was crashing down around me.
I hardly ever noticed the positives.
I focused a lot on the negatives.
The only optimistic thing that kept coming to my mind was thinking that I was going to get pregnant right away with fertility drugs...and when that didn't happen, I was a sad, depressed mess at the end of every month.

So it's been a year since I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. While I'm glad I don't feel that same depressed way I did a year ago, I still have sad days.

When pregnancies are announced, it is still hard. It has gotten a bit easier but it is still hard.

I just really believed that we would be pregnant before we hit the year mark. I figured I'd be different than other infertile women and that fertility drugs would just fix me but that just isn't the case. I'm not sure why I expected to be different but it must have something to do with the 2 miracles in the above pictures.

This month has already started out hard. I guess I can look back and say it is ten times better than last August but it has still been harder than some of the other months this year. With every pregnancy announcement or baby update, I am reminded that I am not pregnant and that I may never be pregnant again.

Along with the infertility blues, PCOS is just plain crappy sometimes. I am not the healthiest of eaters and I know it would help to lose some weight but losing weight has never been a forte of mine. I have a lot of mood swings and there are days my body feels like crap for no apparent reason at all.

If you could have told me at the age of 14 when I was diagnosed with my first ovarian cyst that this would be my life 10 years later, I probably wouldn't have believed you...or I just would've been really scared and sad. I don't know all of the details of why women get PCOS or how many of them had ovarian cysts long before being diagnosed with PCOS (because for me, it was 9 years later) but I do know how hard it is to have a diagnosis that affects your every day life, good or bad. Even on my good days, PCOS might give me a little stab in the ovary (Seriously, though...) and it seems to just be reminding me, "Hey, I'm here! Don't forget that you're stuck with me!"

I know that last paragraph was sort of pessimistic but PCOS just isn't easy. A year seems like a long time until something like this happens and now that I'm a year past my diagnosis, I still feel like there are way too many things I don't know.

I have been pleasesantly surprised at the amount of support I've been given throughout this year. Through the miracle of Twitter (which I once wasn't so fond of), I joined a support group where I am able to talk about the unfamiliar and sometimes familiar things my body is going through. I can even talk about how it just plain sucks that I'm not pregnant.

Even though some of those women have not become mothers {yet}, they still welcomed me in and let me share my feelings as well. I often feel like I have no right to talk about the fact that I'm not pregnant because I am not childless but secondary infertility is a very real and hard thing. I wish more people could try to understand that. I wish it was an easy thing to explain but it really isn't. You kind of have to live through it to know what it feels like.

But even though most of the people I love have not lived through it, I appreciate that they try to understand as best they can what I'm going through. I appreciate their gestures and their listening ears. What I wish for the most is another baby but what I've gotten over the past year is still a ton of blessings, some disguised as heartache.

God has taught me so much and I remember kneeling down those first few months last year and telling him I could not handle what I've been given but He really showed me that I can.

My favorite scripture since I was about 14 has always been 1st Corinthians 10:13.
"There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that which ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it."

I used to read that scripture with reassurance that God would not give me more than I can handle.
It got me through many hard years as a teenager. I dealt with depression. I had body images issues and didn't treat my body right. I broke the Word of Wisdom. I was bullied and had a lot of fake friends. I really relied on that scripture when I was a teen and it always got me through the things I was dealing with.

But it didn't get me through infertility. It taught me about myself through my infertility. It taught me more about that promise from God.

Instead of focusing on God not giving me anything I can't handle, I now know that I can handle anything God gives me because He will never abandon me.

He is the constant in my chaotic life. He isn't just a strange belief I hold on to because I want something to make me feel better about my life. I know He is there. I've never really doubted it but there were times I wondered why the heck He was giving me the trials I've been given.

But I hope to face God one day when my life is over and be able to show him that I am the rock he was slowly polishing. I want Him to see me shine. I want Him to know that I listened and accepted my trials, even though they weren't always easy.

So a year with PCOS is gone and because I know life is precious, I hope to have many more years of PCOS to come.

And that's how Suze sees it.

I can do hard things...

I can do hard things...but it doesn't help when people are putting me down.

This post is not just for me personally but for many people whom I know have been put down when they are seriously doing the best they can.

When I became a stay at home mom, I quickly realized that the choice I had made to stay home was not an easy one. My kids are noisy, sticky, whiny, and I had to cook and clean on top of making sure they were taken care of. I soon realized that what my mother had been doing for my children years before that were not easy tasks.

But because I have been a working mother and a stay at home mother, I know they are both hard and I know I can do hard things!

I can remember back to those first few weeks I was home with my kids. I called my mom one stressful day and asked her how the heck she kept her house clean. She gave me some tips and we hung up the phone. About 20 minutes later, my mom showed up on my doorstep with cleaning supplies that I had told her I didn't yet have and she began to help me clean my home.

Since then, my mom has even once or twice stolen my house key (technically she owns the house I live in so I can't really get mad at her) and cleaned my house while I was out and she's even tried to deny it! ha!

My mom's funny that way.

So it makes me sad when I have friends saying they feel judged for their messy homes because my mom has taught me that a messy home is completely normal with small children running around.

Now that doesn't mean I don't try and keep my house clean but seriously, we live here. I could clean all day and there are still things that would be out of place. My kids play and eat. There are going to be dirty dishes and toys out of place. I just do my best and tell myself that the most important job right now is raising my children and giving them my attention.

Ok, so I didn't mean to take so much time on the clean house rant. But alas, I did and I believe everything I said and won't be erasing any of it. :)

Many times in my life, I have felt judged in so many other ways and the worst part is, I usually feel judged for things that I am 1. trying to work on already or 2. not really all that worried about.

I am overweight. This is just a fact. But talk to any PCOS sister of mine and you'll realize that losing weight is not easy without a lot of hard work. I go to the gym at least 4 times a week and that is about it right now. Eating healthy is not high on my priority list and even though it probably should be, my choices are mine.

It's hard to hear comments about your weight from people you love and start feeling totally inadequate.

Losing weight actually falls under both of the categories above for me. I am doing some things to work on it but I also love myself and am not all that worried about the size of my body. I'm a pretty darn great person and I have enough personality to fill a bigger body like mine. :)

 Losing weight is like looking up a steep hill and asking myself if I really want to start climbing it. I take it a little bit at a time and when I make a bad eating choice, I just try again the next meal. And I try and get myself to the gym as often as possible so I can have energy to keep up with my kids.
My mind is not as much worried about what I look like as much as how I feel on the inside.
So yes, when I tell myself I can do hard things and exercise, it hurts to feel put down when I'm trying really hard to build myself up.

Slightly unrelated but still kind of related, I have seen the things my PCOS friends go through and gosh darn it, I can sit here and tell you, we really can do hard things!

I really can do hard things.

Next subject:

I am a parent.

Parenting choices are a hot subject in life because many grandmothers, aunts, or random women feel like they know exactly what is right for our children. I don't mean to sound rude, especially if you are a grandmother, aunt, or random woman who has given unsolicited advice to someone you really love but seriously, can we all just take a minute and think before we speak? I can imagine in my mind a lot of different mothers I know. All of us have at least slightly different parenting styles but that doesn't really matter to me. I can imagine these wonderful mothers and if I asked myself whether they made parenting choices because they want to raise their children the best way they can, the answer would always be yes.

  So to all of you unsolicited advice givers out there, I know you probably mean well but just think about yourself in our situation. We are doing what we believe is the best way to raise our children and honestly, no two mothers really should be parenting the exact same way...because every child is different.
Heck, I don't even parent the two children that I have the same way.
I am hard on my kids when I need to be and I make sure and build up their confidence and self esteem as often as possible. But just because I do these two things does not mean that they are the same for both of my kids.
I deal with separate issues with my children daily.
My son is a hitter so I have to find consequences for him that may not be the same as his sister's.
My daughter is a sass talker so she has different consequences than her brother.

When my children make messes, I expect them to clean it up and if they aren't capable of cleaning it up, they sure as heck are going to be right next to me learning how to clean it up. Responsibility is something I strongly believe in.
I know many parents who don't believe that a 2 and 4 year old should have chores but that's what is great about being a parent. I get to raise my kids the way I feel is best and you get to raise your kids the way you feel is best! And in the process of it all, I hope we stop judging each other's choices and realizing that we are each making these choices because we love our children.

Have I ranted enough? Because I'm not quite done yet...but don't worry, I'm getting close.

The main point of this entire blog rant is kind of what I talked about back here. No one way to live life is right.
Whether it be a clean house, the way you look, the way you parent or really any other choices you make, they are right for you! And mine are right for me.

I love diversity. I love that we have different personalities and different looks and styles and even different opinions. I wish it was easier for everyone to embrace diversity, rather than think that only their certain choices would be best for every single person in the world.

Rant over.

And that's how Suze sees it.

A Day in the Life of Spidey

Here is a glimpse into the life of our little Spidey guy.

Seriously, this kid keeps me on my toes.

Yesterday, boths kids were playing house in their room and as I was listening, I heard Petey say, "Daddy, do you need to go to the bathroom? The toilet is right here. Go peepee right here."

Of course, I ran right in there to make sure they were pretending but I was a bit too late.

 Spidey had successfully peed into the tiny little toilet that belongs to the dollhouse. That thing is maybe 2 inches tall and the opening is probably 1/4 inch wide. I just sat there and stared at it and wondered how the heck he did that. Oh goodness...

Then later that day, I had put Spidey down for a nap and he cried for a while before falling asleep but he does that sometimes so I didn't think anything of it. When I got him up from his nap, there was blood all over his hands and face. I thought maybe he had picked his nose but it was clean and then he said, "Mommy, my ear hurts." I looked at his ear and there was a lot of blood so I asked Boss to clean him up while I called the doctor's office.
Luckily they got us in quickly and after cleaning it all up, we realized Spidey's ear was cut pretty deep and the doctor also told us he has a horrible ear infection. Since his poor ear wouldn't stop bleeding, they had to Dermabond it shut (glue it).
It was a rough experience and Spidey was glad when we finally left the doctor's office to go have some dinner with family.

The only thing that kept bothering me was how the heck he cut his ear like that. The kids' room is child proofed (or so I thought). There is a bed in there and that's about it. The doctor said it could've been with his finger nails but they weren't really long.
Then last night when we put the kids in bed, Boss stepped on a piece of glass and we started finding little pieces of glass all over their floor. We asked Petey what had happened and she said the night before, Spidey had broken her little mirror by throwing it off the top bunk.
So now it all makes sense...

Oh Mr. Spidey. He is my little busy bee but I love him so much and wouldn't have it any other way. I'm so lucky to be his mom.

And that's how Suze sees it.