Bridges

I've said all along that I wasn't going to force anything with the legalities of having MCHN (my curly haired niece) staying with us.  The legalities were complicated and messy and didn't seem appropriate at the time.  I believed our job was to love MCHN (and what an easy job it is!!) and He would figure out the rest without me forcing anything to happen.  He has a plan, right?  Knowing this comforted me and gave me confidence to begin this journey with MCHN.  So, I decided to focus my attention on the immediate needs of MCHN and cross the other bridges when they presented themselves. 

Sidenote:  In case I have not revealed enough about myself yet, you have to know a couple things about me to really appreciate the rest of this post.  I'm a planner.  I analyze...well, to a fault, really.  I guess I usually overanalyze.  I like to be organized.  (One of my biggest pet peeves is to have to waste time looking for something that's not where it's supposed to be!!)  I like to know what comes next and be prepared for it.  I haven't always been like this...in my twenties I'd decide to do something and I'd do it!  Hang on to your hats, I'll figure out the details later! But I've moved into a slower, more methodical way of thinking now.   

Okay, on with the post...

Knowing I'm a planner who is organized and prepared, you understand that scooping up MCHN and NOT having everything organized, every question answered and having no idea what would come next (but knowing darn well that SOMETHING was going to have to come next!) should have been more than a little daunting to a personality like mine.  Surprisingly, I was calm and confident.  I knew I was doing what needed to be done for MCHN.  I was comfortable crossing the other bridges as they arose. 

And let me tell you, they took no time at all to show up!!

The First Bridge

My only plan for Week One was to keep everyone alive and safe and to not lose my sanity in the process, however, The First Bridge - Temporary Guardianship - quickly presented itself.  I mean seriously, just trying to keep everyone alive and keep me sane wasn't work enough for me...there HAD to be something else for me to do, right?!  So, at my request, MCHN's parents finally signed a Temporary Guardianship form giving my husband and I their permission to provide MCHN with a home and seek medical treatment (among other things).  This would ensure my husband and I could do whatever needed to be done to keep her safe and healthy.  I analyzed:  Are we still alive and sane?  Yes.  Did we cross The First Bridge?  Yes.  As MCHN would say, HOORAY!!

The Second Bridge   

The beginning of Week Two brought another bridge - Engaging Extended Family.  The support of my extended family was an important boost to my confidence in caring for MCHN.  We worked out a schedule to help my husband and I ease our kids and ourselves into taking care of another child full-time.  With a schedule in tact, I was beginning to know what to expect on a daily basis and feeling more balanced about holding my own family together while trying to incorporate MCHN into our home and our lives.

Engaging Extended Family's support brought with it some complications.  Questions were being fired at me like a machine gun during Week Three.  But why would they assume I had all the answers?  I pushed back a little...after all, these were not my questions to answer!  My job was to love MCHN - and I was doing a great job of it!  Like the Scrooge, my heart had grown three sizes by the end of Week Three!

Dear Extended Family,

We are very busy over here hugging and kissing and caring for MCHN.  Please don't pressure us for answers that are not ours to give.  Feel free to direct your questions to the person who might be able to answer them! 

Sincerely,

Just Plain Jill and Company

That person, of course...you know, the only one who could answer all the questions being fired at us...would be MCHN's mother, (my sister), who by Week Three had stopped answering our calls. 

The Third Bridge

This, my friends, was one scary looking bridge! 

My extended family, upon whom I was resting my emotional well-being for the past three weeks, put conditions on their support.  What?!  Yes, since such and such hasn't happened (their plan), we can't help any more.  Again, what?!  Seriously?!  But we are doing this for MCHN - a sweet, innocent child caught in the middle of a situation that is out of her control!  How can you turn your backs?? 

 

Dear God,

I love You, but...are You kidding me?!  Seriously?!  How in the world am I suppose to take care of MCHN full-time, without the support of my extended family??  We were comfortable and enjoying ourselves with the help of our Extended Family.  Do You really think my husband and I can do this alone??  And how can You let this come between me and my extended family?  Seriously!!  Please help me understand...

Angry and Confused,
Just Plain Jill

I hunkered down for the remainder of Week Four and did what I do best:  cared for everyone with a vengeance.  Then, I read something that made me stop.  And think.  And analyze (it's what I do, you know...). 

Thank God I stopped, and analyzed, and listened.  And I mean, I really listened.

“When God moves us out of our comfort zone —- into places that are way bigger than us, places that are difficult, hard, painful —- that even hurt — this is a gift.

WE ARE BEING GIVEN A GIFT!

     These hard places give us the gift of intimately    knowing God — in ways that would never be possible in our comfort zones.” 

from A Holy Experience by A. Voskamp

So, now I'm out of my comfort zone and in a place way bigger than I am.  I was scared, but now I understand it's a gift.  Week Five is a gift from God and I'm excited to live it.  I'm going to rip the beautiful bow off of this gift and dive right in!!

Ni-Night Time

My little guy gets EXTREMELY anxious when the day boils down to ni-night time (be it afternoon nap or bed time) and his mommy does ANYTHING but give him all her attention.  Mind you, I eat this up.  Seriously.  I love that he wants nothing else in the world than to spend his last few minutes with me before closing his eyes and resting his pint-size little body.  However, this anxiety of his at ni-night time has become a real issue now that MCHN is with us.  You see, MCHN also wants my undivided attention before ni-night time.  In fact, maybe all babies want their mommies at ni-night time, and not just my sweet little blue eyed baby boy.  No, I take that back.  I'm not ready to believe that yet...

So, I know it does not surprise you to know that ni-night times around our house have become my new challenge.  I mean, I've already explained how I cannot stop the organized, prepared part of me that tries (as hard as she can!) to make full time days here with three children under the age of four run smoothly.  Yes, I am bound and determined to make the transition from our daily grind to sleepy-time peaceful and pleasant for all.  As you can imagine...it's a work in progress.

In the whole "who do I lay down first" scheme of things, I've tried it all.  If MCHN goes ni-night first, I can hardly get to the top of the stairs before my darling little baby boy (and yes, that IS sarcasm...) pops the baby gate open (who makes those things anyway, and why don't they work for baby boys?!?!) and meets us at MCHN's doorway, barely able to catch his breath from the agonizing screaming he's been doing since he realized his mommy is not giving him her undivided attention at ni-night time.  If that same darling little boy goes ni-night first, he's content and more than happy to watch as MCHN slowly melts down, realizing she's going to be left behind.  Today however, things went a little differently.

We all went upstairs together, milk cups and woobies/blankies in hand.  Mind you, I have to carry them both because of course no one can walk on their own at ni-night time.  Are you kidding me?!  That would trigger the panic attack of thinking you might get left behind, which means you once again are not getting 100% of mommy's attention at ni-night time!!  And, yes, if you are wondering, it does bother me at times that I'm pretty sure I really do know what they are thinking....

So, I'm a bit off balance.  MCHN (bless her chubby little thighs), is maybe 5-8 pounds heavier than that blue eyed little boy that has me wrapped around his little finger.  This makes maneuvering through the tiny walkway created by the baby gate and up the stairs physically daunting and I'm not proud to admit that I'm a little winded when I reach the top of the stairs.  But, I'm okay with this physical challenge because NO ONE IS CRYING!!  No anxiety, no panic attacks, and, believe it or not, nobody has gotten a milk cup swung at their head!

I sit in the rocker in MCHN's bedroom and situate MCHN on one leg and that blue eyed boy on the other.  I'm afraid this may be physically too close when the kids are tired and short-tempered, but surprisingly they look at each other and giggle.  A conversation ensues about whose milk cup is whose, where every one's noses and eyes are, etc. (I say et cetera like everyone knows what kind of conversations you have with 21 month old children...).  Anyway, this goes on for several minutes as MCHN's eyes begin getting very heavy.  I get up with MCHN to snuggle and lay her down in bed, afraid leaving the blue eyed boy will set off the dreaded anxiety I've tried so hard to keep at bay.  Much to my surprise, he sits quietly in the rocker, woobie and milk cup in hand, and watches closely as MCHN gets my undivided attention for those last few moments before she nods off to sleep.  I hear him whisper "ni-night" which almost brings tears to my eyes.  I cover MCHN up, scoop up that blue eyed boy and quietly close MCHN's door behind us.

Perhaps he understands that MCHN could really use a mommy's undivided attention right now and so he's a little more willing to share his mommy with her before she goes to sleep.  I'd like to think it's the gentleman in him coming out.  Or, maybe he knows that the undivided attention he longs for so much is just around the corner.  Either way, I was proud of us all this ni-night time, however I'm also smart...

I do know better than to count on it working out this same way twice in a row.

TGIF!

I'm smart enough to know that if I'm constantly RE-acting to my kids, I'll never have control (there's that word again..."control"...okay, I see a pattern here...).  But, seriously, if I can be PRO-active by planning, organizing and preparing ahead of time, then I might stay ahead of them and maintain some sense of control.  That's my theory anyway...

So, I get drinks for breakfast and snack ready the night before.  I also put lunches on plates with covers and keep them in the fridge overnight so that we're just a few seconds from lunch being ready when it comes time.  Even with this forethought and preparation the day before, I'm still smart enough to know that this control that I hope to maintain will be fleeting and will come and go quicker than chocolate does during a stressful day.  So basically, I'm tricking myself into believing that being an organized mom will lead to harmony for all.  Yes, it sounds ridiculous, but you can't blame a girl for trying. 

CAUTION:  Faces in this photo are not as innocent as they may otherwise appear.

Take today for example.  It's Friday.  TGIF!!  After a sweet kiss from my husband before he went through the door for work, me and my positive, proactive attitude pulled ourselves together and were ready to get the day started.  All three kids were dressed; teeth brushed and sat down for breakfast at the same time to eat the same thing.  YAY me!  Child 1 can't sit still OR be quiet for more than about 30 seconds in a row (yes, I'm referring to that strong-willed almost four year old little angel of mine.  Today, I'll be calling her What Do You Mean The World Doesn't Revolve Around Me?!, or WDYMTWDRAM for short.)  So, being proactive, I encourage her to show Children 2 and 3 how to scoop Kix onto a spoon and get it into their mouths rather than getting down from the table for the fifth time in three minutes to get...well, honestly I can't even remember what she was off to get that time.  Of course no amount of encouraging can get WDYMTWDRAM to sit still.  I don't let this surprise me or catch me off guard.  (YAY me again!)  Down she goes and off to play.  Whew, I think to myself, positive attitude still in check.  One down, two to go.

My baby boy, I'm learning, has about as much of a problem sitting still as his sister does.  I also do not let this surprise me this morning.  I clean him up and send him off to play.  One little one left at the table.

I've told you before that MCHN (my curly haired niece) is as chubby as she is cute.  Well, those chubby little thighs take time and energy to keep up!  One bowl of Kix down.  "Mur?" she asks sweetly.  Again, I was prepared for this.  I quickly add more cereal, strawberries and milk to her bowl.  But, since about 15 minutes have passed now since WDYMTWDRAM and my baby boy have left the table, they both come back into the kitchen, pull their chairs out and want more to eat.  This wouldn't be quite so inconvenient if I hadn't already cleaned up their dishes and swept the floor under their chairs.  I mean, I'm being proactive and productive right?!  So, no, I tell them.  You've already eaten.  Go play and when MCHN is finished we'll read some books.  This appeases them...for the time being.

"Mur?" 

Seriously??  MCHN has been at the table now for forty minutes and is asking for her third bowl of cereal!  My baby boy has lost any little bit of patience he had by this point, and is whining at my leg to put him back into his booster seat and let him eat again.  It's the SAME meal man!!  You've already finished it!!  But he does not understand.  I pick him up to stop his crying and end up carrying him around while MCHN finishes every last bit of that third bowl of Kix.  Bless her chubby little thighs.

I try to finish cleaning up the breakfast mess and promise the three of them we'll read books just as soon as I'm finished.  My baby boy is on about his third tantrum of the morning by this time, and my patience is beginning to run thin. It's only 9 a.m.  WDYMTWDRAM is tormenting both MCHN and my baby boy, whose tantrums have now led to a runny nose and puffy eyes.  Okay, forget cleaning up; just get these kids busy with something else before we all go insane!

Off to the living room my proactive mommy-self goes, taking deep breaths along the way.  "Pick a color," I tell them spreading out the three different shapes I proactively prepared the evening before, "and sit down."  MCHN and WDYMTWDRAM sit down quickly on their chosen shapes while my runny nosed, puffy eyed baby boy (MRNPEBB) looks miserably at the blue triangle on the floor and sobs.  All I really want to do is pick up my baby boy and go off into a room alone with him, let him snuggle with me, and make us both feel better.  But intead, I take a deep breath.  Both girls just watch him, a little irritated actually.  I get the book out, sit down and am amazed to look up and see ALL THREE OF THEM sitting nicely on their spots, quietly waiting for me to start the book.  Seriously?!  Did I do that??  YAY me!!

Don't get too excited. 

Three pages into the book, catastrophe strikes.  Yep, MRNPEBB decides to launch his blue triangle across the room for no apparent reason.  His puffy eyes glance in my direction for a reaction.  WDYMTWDRAM screams, "NNNNNOOOOOOO!!!" like her little brother has just ruined the best moment in her life thus far.  MCHN just watches the scene in amazement.  I sigh.  Just keep reading, I tell myself.  So I do.

WDYMTWDRAM cannot regain any sense of composure.  She starts pulling at the pink circle MCHN is trying to sit on, making MCHN cry.  And, I'm not saying the word "cry" lightly here.  When she cries, she CRIES.  Seriously!  You think she's lost a limb or something.  I pause, feeling defeated, and walk to the kitchen to finish cleaning up the breakfast mess.  All three kids are unhappy and making some horrible noise or another. 

It's only 9:15 a.m.  Seriously?!  My positive, proactive attitude is losing steam at a very fast pace, and I wonder what in the world we are going to do for the 45 LONG minutes before we leave for gymnastics.  I decide to take a break.  I tip-toe to the sliding glass door and step out on the deck.  Hello sunshine!!  Hello fresh air!!  I look at my watch and decide to give myself 3 minutes.  One minute for each needy, noisy child on the other side of that door.

When I re-enter the kitchen, WDYMTWDRAM says, "Oh, there you are mom!" in the sweetest, most mature and chipper almost four year old little voice, and gives me a hug.  MRNPEBB and MCHN are chasing each other in circles - kitchen to dining room to living room to kitchen - one pushing a grocery cart and the other trailing behind, pushing a stroller and giggling. 

OK, let me get this straight.  I plan, prepare and then try to provide an organized morning of book reading (on colored shapes even!) to mitigate the risk of unforeseen catastrophes, and all I really had to do was walk onto the deck for 3 minutes to make everyone happy??!!  Are you kidding me??!!

A few minutes later we begin our bye-bye routine.  WDYMTWDRAM go potty.  Check.  MRNPEBB and MCHN diaper changes and shoes on.  Check, check.  Coats? Check.  Snacks and drinks for later?  Check.  Okay, head to the car. (And yes, it really is this much work and so much more to get three little ones out the door...)

We're all buckled in, I put the car in reverse, and before I'm even out of the driveway, WDYMTWDRAM says, "Mommy!"  No mommy, you do not get just two seconds of peace and quiet, so do not even think about it!  (Sorry, the devil on my shoulder made me say that.)  WDYMTWDRAM repeats, louder this time, "Mommy!!"

"Yeeeess," I reply, trying to regain my composure.

"You forgot to get dressed!!"

I look down.  Seriously?!

No...she was just kidding.  But her sense of humor was so ironic at that moment (JPJ trying to be the organized, well prepared mommy vs. actually forgetting to get dressed!  I mean SERIOUSLY!!  I could see it happening!) that I laughed at myself.  Thanks WDYMTWDRAM...I needed that reminder that life's a lot more fun if I don't take things so seriously, especially ME!! 

Honestly, do you see an angel in those eyes, or the charming little WDYMTWDRAM
almost four year old that I've been speaking of today??

We've Come A Long Way

I was prompted by my best mommy friend (MBMF) to re-read my Jan 31st post (I Am Not Perfect...) and I'm so glad I did!  First of all, it must be weird to find out in your friend's blog that something you did caused her discomfort (sorry MBMF!!), but most importantly, I was reminded of how far we've come.  And I mean that in soooo many ways!

1.  MBMF and I Have Come A Long Way

MBMF and I have been friends since our little girls were both "only children."  I have to put that in quotes because my strong-willed three year old is not my oldest...that privilege is held by my beautiful OTHER strong-willed daughter, who is 20 years old, supporting herself, and living on her own.  Yes, so I was blessed TWICE with strong-willed daughters.  (Makes the teenage years a little hellish, but does lead to strong, independent young women - SERIOUSLY!!!) 

ANYWAY... at the time I met MBMF, I think she was pregnant with her second.  My husband and I were thinking about trying for our baby number two.  I watched MBMF's every move when her second was born.  Who goes into the car first...the oldest or the youngest?  If they are both crying, who do you answer first?  When you don't see who started it, who do you scold??  And most importantly, how in the world does she make two kids happy and not go insane in the process???  So, basically I was writing (in my head) my How to Be The Best Mommy In The World (HTBTBMITW) Handbook, and MBMF and her two daughters were my main characters.  My inspiration.  I had mommy experience after all, but not mommy experience with more than one child at a time!  That's a lot different!!

So, MBMF and I have grown a lot together - now when we go out on play dates, there are six kids between the two of us instead of just two!  Our relationship is a little like a marriage in the way we manage our kids when we're all together.  And, when we're blessed enough to have our husbands join us, it's nice to sit back and have an uninterrupted conversation with her!  If I think about it too much, I can't figure out for the life of me how in the world it works, but somehow it does.  And thank God, because she is still my inspiration (did I say she's pregnant with her 4th now?!).  People come into your life for a reason, and I'm still calculating all the reasons why MBMF is here...

2.  My Husband and I Have Come A Long Way

This could be a post in itself, so I'll try to keep it short.  Inviting MCHN into our home convinced me that God really does have a plan and we are all here to carry it out.  I might kick and scream and try to get things to happen MY way (did I ever mention I'm a little stubborn?) but one of the best things that's happened since MCHN came to live with us is that I'm beginning to think about God's way before trying to make things happen my way.   I think my husband is grateful for that!!  You see, he's just as stubborn as I am (and has no trouble admitting that!), so if I'm backing down a bit, and letting God have the lead, then that's also leading to more harmony between my husband and I.  It took us about seven years to get to this point, but I'll take it, and look forward to what lies ahead for us!!

3.  The Kids and I Have Come A Long Way

After two and a half weeks, the honeymoon phase with MCHN is wearing off (boy, that was quick!) and we're getting down to the nitty-gritty now.  I've tackled my fear of being the walking hot mess of unorganized chaos through Wal-Mart (yes, it DID happen...) and yes, I survived and lived to tell about it.  By the way, the shoe MCHN threw during her tantrum disappeared for 3 days, but as it turns out, that's EXACTLY why they have a lost and found at Wal-Mart!!

4.  JPJ (Just Plain Jill) Has Come a Long Way

And, just when I thought I had figured out which kid to put in the bath first (or to take out first for that matter!), which one to lay down for nap last (the one who can't figure out the gate at the bottom of the stairs of course!), or just how much leeway I can give my almost four year old and still trust her to do what she'd do if mommy were watching...what I really figured out was that there is no handbook with the secrets of how to be a successful mommy when you have more than one child who needs you (even if MBMF makes it look carefree and flawless most of the time!).  There's never as much time or patience or hugs as I'd like there to be, but what's really important here is a little saying a dear friend shared with me long ago...

                  ...life is what happens along the way...

Yes!  The journey itself IS life!  The old JPJ would have stayed all wrapped up in that HTBTBMITW Handbook.  I would have been kicking myself for not being there when my almost four year old crossed the street by herself while I tried to carry one two year old in one arm and drag the other one with the other arm while she threw a tantrum (and I swore I'd NEVER do that!!).  But, my almost four year old was safe, promised she'd never cross the street on her own again (seriously!!) and I realized MCHN's tantrum won't be the last. 

And, on a good note, I lived each of these moments to the fullest, gave it my all and have learned lessons that are making me more of a woman than I used to be, more of a mommy than I thought I ever could be, and the kind of wife I really want to be.  

Hmph, and all this happened along the way...

I'm Still Listening...

Apsops!  Apsops!  Peeza!

This, my friends, is the usual response from MCHN when asked what we should have for breakfast.  Or lunch...or dinner, for that matter.  All would be well in the world if she could just be served "apsops and peeza" morning, noon and night.  (OK, peeza is pretty easy to figure out, but have you gotten apsops yet??  Keep thinking...)

Now mind you this is the same adorable little girl who is the last to get up from the table because she's enjoying every tiny morsel of food that's put in front of her.  Seriously!  I mean, there's a reason why on Day One I could not squeeze her adorably chubby thighs into a size three diaper.  This girl loves to eat and she's not afraid to show you!  Gotta love her for that.

Yesterday, after our morning giggle-fest in the car (see previous post), I was bound and determined to kick my dreary mood and perk up.  The half-time show at nap time was a phone call from MCHN's father.  Quite a surprise!  A little awkward, as noted by both of us, but all in all, it was good to get that first call over with and out of the way.  He thanked me and assured me that he is doing all he can to straighten out his life and to be the dad he wants to be for MCHN.  I knew it must have been a hard phone call for him to make.  I did not judge (it's not my place!) nor did I scold.  Yes, I told him, MCHN is doing well here, thanks for asking.  Feel free to call anytime.

My heart felt good.  I felt reassured that we are all doing what is in the best interest of MCHN, and for me, that is enough...for now anyway.  Or so I thought...

Not three minutes later, the phone rings again.  (I'm fairly convinced the first call, from MCHN's father, came first for a reason:  to build me up a little before I proceeded to tear myself down immediately following the second phone call!)  I'm listening to the familiar voice on the other end of the phone offer to help with MCHN, but also fire questions about exactly how long we plan on taking care of MCHN.  I'm not sure, I respond.  I'm taking it one day at a time.  I mean, what more am I supposed to do??  He didn't seem satisfied with that answer, but also didn't have any suggestions.  His questions spurred thoughts of self-doubt in my head.  Am I doing the right thing?  Yes, definitely for MCHN, but am I doing the right thing for her mother and father??  Or, as accused, am I enabling them both and allowing them to remain irresponsible?  I didn't have an answer for that voice on the other end of the phone, and I didn't have the answers for myself either.  It caused imbalance and discomfort in my heart. 

I get on the dialing end of the phone this time, and place a call that was meant to be kind of a sanity check.  What did this sanity check reveal?  That YES, JILL, YOU ARE INSANE.  YES, JILL, YOU ARE AN ENABLER.  These revelations (or my perception there-of) from a trusted and well informed family member, sent me on an even deeper dive into trying to understand what exactly it is that I'm supposed to be doing here.  Of course, I didn't find any answers yesterday afternoon (and it wasn't for lack of trying!!), and by the time my husband came home from work, I was tired, confused, emotionally spent and doubting every ounce of what we are doing for MCHN.

Now, in order to really appreciate where I was at yesterday afternoon, you have to know a little more about my husband.  I mean, I shared PNP with you (see "the good, the bad, and the ugly post"...if you dare!), so I should at least let you know a little more about my husband.  Let me just say, he doesn't "do" touchy-feely.  In fact, if I shed a tear, he'll look the other way to avoid being expected to ask what's wrong.  That's just the kind of guy he is...I'm learning to accept that about him.  But, it's not easy!!!  So, needless to say, the evening went on with the same sort of uneasy confusion going on within me until I hit the hay.  Let me tell you, after feeling like you've ridden a roller coaster all day, once your head hits the pillow, you're out.  And I was.  Like a light.  Thank goodness.

Unfortunately, I woke today still not having much clarity.  MCHN on the other hand, was bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and waiting on apsops and peeza again.  Seriously?!  (By the way, apsops = applesause.)   

Dear God,
It's me...I'm still listening.  Am I doing the right thing here??

Your self-doubting servant,
JPJ

While I'm sitting around waiting for His answer, I think I'll take a lesson from MCHN herself and just dish up some comfort food.  Apsops and peeza anyone???

We're Not Alone

Frazzled and a little discouraged, (which is more than a little hard for me to admit), I climbed into the car, took a deep breath and looked down.  Snot.  Literally.  On the leg of my pants.  Which one of the two little guys was that from, I thought to myself.  More importantly, GROSS!  Seriously!  Wipe it off already!!  As I opened the console to retrieve a Kleenex, I glanced back at MCHN (my curly haired niece) and my baby boy sitting happily in their car seats wondering what kind of adventure I was taking them on now.  They smiled, legs kicking wildly, ready for anything I had for them.

But that was just it.  I didn't have it...not today.  It was only 10 a.m. and I was already tired and wondering where in the world I was going to find the energy to carry on the rest of the day.  Then the games began.

"Hi mommy!"
"Hi baby boy," I half-heartily replied, fumbling to get my keys in the ignition.
"Hi mommy!"
"Hi my little curly haired niece."  I took a deep breath, let out a huge sigh and tried to pull myself together.
"Hi mommy!"
"Hi sweet boy."
"Hi mommy!"

Seriously?  I paused and glanced in the rear-view mirror at them.  They looked at each other and giggled.

"Hi mommy!" MCHN repeated.  "Hi mommy! Hi mommy! Hi mommy!"  Faster and faster.  "Mommy!!  Hi Mommy!"

My sweet boy looked at her with mischief in his eyes and cracked up laughing at her.  This was the beginning of the giggle-fest.  Right there in our car, frazzled and wearing snotty pants, I chuckled at them.  They paid me no attention.  They were in their own la-la land, laughing at each other hysterically.  My sweet little boy was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes and his dimpled little cheeks were turning bright red.  His eyes pleaded with MCHN as if to beg her, stop, please stop!  But she continued..."...mommy!  Hi mommy!  Hi mommy!  Mommy!  Mommy!"  My baby boy's giggle turned to deep belly laughs and I had to turn around and watch them both, afraid to miss a minute of their light-hearted, loving connection.

I smiled and felt warm all over, happy that they were becoming friends.  I mean, who wants to spend their days alone, right?  Then I was reminded of a scripture verse shared recently by a friend: 

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.  (Isaiah 41:10)

God works in mysterious ways.  Today He played two small children like tiny, beautiful, giggly instruments.  I hear You.  Thanks for reminding me that I am not alone.

The Rules - Week One

Dear God,
I'm catching on to Your Big Game.  One good day is followed by the day from Hell.  Is it okay to say that word do You?  I mean no disrespect, You know I love you, but I'm learning more quickly now (look dad, I didn't learn the hard way this time!  YAY me! (Seriously, sarcasm...are you catching it yet?)  Thank you for reminding me that You will not give me more than I can handle.  This was important for me to know to survive Day Six (the good day) and Day Seven (the Day from Hell, or simply DFH).

Here are the rules to YBG (Your Big Game) that I've learned this week.  By the way, maybe it would be easier if you left a printed copy of these rules out for me, like the maker of my cribbage game did?  Just a thought...

15 Rules to playing YBG (Your Big Game) - Week One:

1. Never let them see you sweat. 
2. If you turn your back on one, he or she will ALWAYS surprise you.
3. If you do not close the dishwasher door all the way, he or she will open it, pull out a dirty steak knife, and gently tap you on the back with it. (Yes, seriously!!) 
4. Even if you put buckles on the new time-out chair (because who has time to stand next to the one in trouble while the other one is "free"?!?!), he or she WILL find a way to arch their back to loosen the buckle enough and wiggle loose (see figure 1.)



Figure 1

5. Never let them see you sweat.
6. Pooping comes in pairs - who knew???!!!




Figure 2a


7. There IS a way to brush their teeth besides holding one while the other one whines at your leg until it's their turn (see figures 2a, 2b).
  



Figure 2b


8. If there is an illness going through the children in your house, the momma will surely get a turn on a weekday while still having to care for the three kids.  The daddy's turn will come on the weekend so momma will STILL have to care for the three kids while he's laying in bed thinking he's dying (seriously, it's just the flu!).

9. Bath time should be a spectator sport.  Two naked almost two-year olds running around like banshees while the almost four year old throws a two-year-old-like-tantrum (TYOLT) because she wants to get in too MUST be funny if you're watching from afar.   
10. Never let them see you sweat (NLTSYS).
11. If you leave the dining room after dinner to start the never ending clean up process, the kids WILL kick back and relax (see figure three).  ENJOY THIS TIME!!!




Figure 3


12. If you start a blog to save your sanity, it's probably better to get up at three or four in the morning to put your thoughts down on paper than to let them wreak havoc in your head and not get back to sleep.
13. The blue-eyed boy is NOT as innocent as he appears and yes, he CAN do wrong!
14. NLTSYS (never let them see you sweat).
15. At the end of each day, when you have quiet time with each child before tucking them into bed, they WILL want to snuggle with you like the little angels they are, their arms wrapped around your shoulders, for as long as you let them.  SOAK THIS IN LIKE A MOMMA SOLAR PANEL!!  You will need it to get through the next day, especially if you're scheduled for a DFH (Day from Hell)!!

I'm listing these rules for you, God, so that you may consider printing them for the next crazy momma who is living with two almost two year olds.  She will need them!

You loving servant,
JPJ (Just Plain Jill)

Quick Re-Cap of Days One Through Five (the good, the bad and the ugly - SERIOUSLY!)

I'm a firm believer in the old adage "God won't give you more than you can handle."  But...

Since MCHN (my curly haired niece) joined us just 5 short days ago, here's what I've had going on:

My little guy (you remember, the one I'm completely in love with who can do no wrong??) had a fever and the overall crankies for the first two days, then puked off and on for Day Three.  Between clinging to my leg, whining and swinging random toys at MCHN to get her to stay away from him, it hasn't made for as great of a bonding time for him and his cousin as I had hoped.

My angel of an almost-four-year-old daughter (and if you didn't catch the sarcasm there, you need to get to know me better!) spent Night Three puking - and yes, I do mean the ENTIRE night.  Luckily she woke on Day Four back to her normal angel self.  (Did you catch it that time??)

Day Four was good.  Thank you God!  But, I didn't know you were just setting me up...

Day Five hit me hard.  Whatever bug my kids had settled deep within me and began wreaking havoc before breakfast was even over.  In between my mad dashes to the bathroom, I noticed my little guy was back to clinging, whining and swinging toys along with an added runny nose, cough and general grumpiness.  My otherwise cheery and sweet curly haired niece decided NOT to take the little guy's bullying and yelled back at him, swung at him like the bases were loaded, and fought to cling to the very leg little guy had been clinging to for the past few days.  I had to peel them off like leeches when it came time for my next mad dash, neither of them understanding why in the world I couldn't just give them the attention they so desired.  If only kids came with the understanding that yes, mommies do get sick and sometimes they have to take care of themselves first.  But nooooooooo...these two sweet little angels were obviously not understanding mommy's predicament on Day Five, nor my mad dashes to the bathroom.  And to tell you the truth, I wasn't understanding too much about it either.

As I lay on the couch, listening to the whining and disciplining what swinging I could muster the energy for, I wondered how in the world I was supposed to handle all this while fighting the flu.  To make matters a little worse, I'm one of those people who don't get sick, so when I do, it's a big deal.  I try to push through it (thinking surely it will just go away!) and continue taking care of everyone else.  Before I knew it, I stood for yet another run to the bathroom, paused to peel the little ones off my leg and felt like I was going to faint.  Excuse my language but, SHIT!!  I can't faint now!!  In my panic to figure this out, I wondered if you put two 20 month olds together, will they figure out how to dial 911??  No probably not, but speaking of the phone...

I grab it and make my way to the bathroom.  I call my husband and let him know I may not make it through this round of puking-n-pooping (sorry for the details, but how else will you really understand!?).  He asks some questions that I don't recall and I tell him I have to go.  I mean, it's hard to hold the wastebasket to puke in while sitting on the toilet and still find a free hand (and the energy and focus!) to have a conversation too.  This puking-n-pooping (PNP) stuff is serious business!!  I'm sweaty and I start seeing dark spots.  I try to rationalize:  Option 1)  If I lay on the bathroom floor, I won't hit my head when I faint, but I'm sure there will be quite a mess to clean up afterwards.  Option 2)  Stay on the toilet, wastebasket to my mouth, and try to fall as gently as possible when the time comes.  I mean, there is a rug on the floor to cushion my head from the ceramic tile, but there's also wooden step-stool and magazine rack that I'd have to fall strategically in between.  But really, the fall isn't that far, right?? 

Well, I lived to write about it, so you must gather that everything is okay.  I didn't faint (thank God!) and when I called my husband back to try to answer whatever questions he was asking, he said he was already on his way home.  Thank God again!  The day didn't get much better, but it didn't get much worse either.  I trudged slowly through the rest of the day, laying on the couch to rest every chance I got, and went to bed as soon as the little ones were down.  Who, by the way, did not bloody themselves OR each other during my whole ordeal, so someone must have been keeping an eye on them (thank you God!). 

So, the conclusion that I've come to is that God must think I'm pretty darn strong to handle what He's dished out so far in these last five days.  Maybe He's reminding me of my strength because I doubted it on Day Three.  But let me tell you, I'm done doubting because this Guy does not mess around!!