The Sensitive Child

Well I still haven't given up on blogging...yet. It is challenging to find the time to actually blog though. It seems as though it takes me half a day to actually get something written to actually blog because I can only type for 1 minute here and 3 minutes there. lol I guess that will just be the norm for me for the next 18+ years. ;)

So today I have more of a question to throw out there. How should one raise a son that is very sensitive and that takes everything to heart? Jeremiah, my 7 year old has, and probably always will be on the sensitive side. When the boy was like 6 months old all his Aunt Tammy had to say was "butter beans" (I have no  clue why those words would set him off. lol) and the poor baby would be in tears. Even after he was calmed down and he was distracted to much happier things I  could see him look off into the distance and start to get a big pouty face again. You just knew he was reliving the whole "butter beans" incident in his little head.

 I find myself almost in a daily struggle to find a balance on teaching him that it's ok to have strong feelings about things but yet to teach him not to be a "pansy" so to speak. Jeremiah is by far no pansy, in fact he does an awesome job "holding his own" when it comes wrestling and fighting with his brother. Although if you say something that he feels is sad or hurtful then he tends to internalize it and seems to never stop thinking about it. For example, a few years ago, we had some friends over to the house one evening and after they had left Jeremiah said their son (who was around the same age as him) had told them how he had a baby brother but that he was in heaven now. Of course my curious little man had about 100 questions about all that. He wanted to know how a baby could die, cause in his mind everyone was/is supposed to live till they are "old people". So we explained to him that when babies are first born their necks are really weak and their heads are really heavy. We told them that the baby had rolled over and his neck just wasn't strong enough to move his head so he could breath. He cried and said how sad that was and how bad he felt for his friend who didn't have his little baby brother anymore.

Well time went on and it was about a year and a half later we had another little baby. Both the boys loved their new little sister to pieces. The first day I came home with little Charlotte I noticed Jeremiah would hover over his sister no-stop. If I put her down for a second..he was right there watching her. I just took it as he was so excited about her that he just couldn't get enough of her. Later that evening as we were tucking the boys into bed Jeremiah asked me "Mom, were is baby Charlotte going to sleep tonight?" I told him she would be in the pack-n-play right next to our bed. His eyes began to fill up with tears that quickly began streaming down his face. Here I thought he was just over excited and over tired from the busy day. I told him not to worry and that she was here to stay so he would see her tomorrow. His response was "But mom, what if she rolls over and can't breath while your sleeping at night?" What normal 5-6 year old thinks and worries about such things a year and a half after they first heard about something like that?

He is also the type that when reading stories for school will often break into tears. The other day he was reading about Black Beauty and when the horse was sold to a new owner...that was enough to send him into tears. My dilemma is how do I teach him that it's a good thing that he is as caring as he his, but yet on the same hand not to wear his heart on his sleeve all the time?

I love the fact that he is sensitive to others feelings. I always say he is going to make an awesome husband one day cause he is so thoughtful and sensitive to others feelings. Yet on the flip side of that I hate to see my 7 year old stress and worry about things that shouldn't concern his little mind. Does anyone else out there struggle with this, and how to you handle it?

Just call me M.OM...manager of messes!

After spending the past several days around the house it probably doesn't come as a big shocker that kids are going stir crazy. As a stay-at-home mom I like to think of myself as being "creative" (along with the help of Pintrest)and often come up with cool, and neat things or places for the kids to do or go. But this creative momma must be out of ideas cause the kids are begging to "go somewhere fun" today and I can't think of anything to do. So we've just been kind of hanging around the house today. Which I soon learned is a big NO NO!

I have to admit, the day started out quite peaceful and I was enjoying it. Everyone slept in till 7 a.m. and Jeremiah did a double day of school yesterday, so no school for him today. By 10 a.m. the boys had, oddly enough, not tried to kill each other yet and were playing together nicely. In fact it warmed my heart to hear them laughing and giggling with each other in their bedroom. Charlotte was happy playing in her room, where she had taken every shoe her sister and her own and placed it into her laundry basket and had her elephant sitting on top of the massive shoe pile. She was then sitting in her red car trying to drive in circles around the basket...all the while carrying on a very in depth conversation with "Effent" which at times even had Charlotte busting out in very comical, but fake chuckles. That Elephant is one crazy, funny stuffed animal ya know! ;) My sweet little Vivian was content as could be just jumping away in her  exersaucer. All-in-all it was an awesomely calm, relaxing morning....then all H... E... double hockey sticks broke loose as it usually dose on a daily basis here in the Foster household. 

I had just started to feed Vivi some tasty sweet carrots when I hear Charlotte scream in her room...and its the type of scream that you immediately know she is hurt. So I dart to her room where I find she has somehow fell under the steering wheel of her red car and was now stuck and couldn't get out because she had somehow twisted her arm in a very awkward looking position. After carefully maneuvering her out and assessing that she had no broken bones or wasn't bleeding, she goes back to her driving around and playing with "Effent"...disaster averted! I walk back into the dinning room to find that, in my hurry to see what was wrong with Charlotte, I had left the sweet carrot baby food jar within Viv's reach on the high chair. Where once I had had a freshly bathed baby, clothed in a cute little white and pink outfit...now sat a baby covered from head to toe in a quite messy display of an almost florescent orange colored jar of baby food. Needless to say bath number 2 of the day was in store for her. 

"At least the boys are getting along" ran the thought through my head...I didn't dare speak those words out loud for fear of jinxing it! So as I'm getting Vivi's 2nd bath of the day ready, this is the time Charlotte decides that she is in desperate need of some "momma time" and since I can't give it to her right at that moment she feels like hanging off my leg,screaming "momma, momma, momma!" will make me hold her more quickly. So I take Vivi out of her bath long enough to bribe Charlie with a snack so that I can get Vivi back in the bath and cleaned up. Yes, I'm not afraid to admit that I do bribe my children with food from time to time...any real, honest mother will admit to nothing less!;)

So while bathing Vivi not only do the boys start declaring world war III on each other, cause apparently just thinking the thought of them playing well together was enough to jinx that! Then both dogs start barking like crazy, which they do only when someone is coming up to the house. Their non-stop barking sends the bird into a screeching fit as well. Yet again I take Vivi out of the bath to see who is here. By the time I get to the door after screaming for the dogs, the bird and the boys to stop yelling I see that it's just a guy dropping off yet another Verizon phone book. Thanks Verizon, I'll put that phone book with the other 10 that you've sent me in the last year...in the trash! I mean, come on, how many phone books does one really need???? Apparently 11 according to Verizon. 

I finally get Vivi bathed and dressed again while still trying to manage Charlie's meltdowns. I get Vivi content enough that I can finally pay Charlie some attention. Charlie cuddles in my lap an I begin to read her her favorite fishy book. That lasted until Eli came into the room and informed me that he is no longer playing with his brother cause he is mean and he now hates him. Eli then goes into a long story about why his brother is so mean, which he ended with the sentence "Like, for real mom, who does he think he is??? Is he the parent of me??? Nope! So now I hate him" After a lengthy talk with him about how we shouldn't really hate anyone, and how we are all supposed to love each other Eli's response is "Well, yeah, but I still hate bub!" Not 30 seconds after that comment Jeremiah comes running into the room telling Eli he has to come see this funny video he found on YouTube. They both go running out of the room and with in a matter of a minute I hear bursts of laughter coming from them both again. At least I know Eli's hatred doesn't run deep. ;)

So back to Charlie girl and her book...or so I thought. She figured while she was waiting for me to finish my "talk" with Eli she would leave me a present of a very odorous nature in her diaper. After changing that diaper we sit down to read yet again when I think to myself that it still smells pretty bad in the room. So I check Vivi only to find she's had a complete blowout! I'm talking poop all the way up the back of her...almost up to her shoulders. Short of cutting off the onesie that she has on, I can't figure how to remove the thing without spreading the poop even further. I just bite the bullet and pull it over her head and get her ready for bath number 3 for the day. 

After bath number 3 is done I find it yet time again to feed the heard. So lunch is made, cleaned up and both girls are now napping...at least long enough for me to have typed this. Now I must try to get the lunch dishes done, laundry washed and folded, rugs vacuumed and maybe even attempt to yet again organize the boys mess...um...I mean room. Here's to hoping the girls take a nice long nap:) 

Oh wait...is that Vivian I hear crying now??? Great...so much for getting stuff accomplished today. lol

Weight Issues

Alright, so I realize in my logical mind that having had so many pregnancies, especially the last two that were so close together, that it can take a toll on one's body. I know that I was never a super model...nor will I ever be. But to say I strongly dislike my body now is a major understatement. I know I'm by no means obese, but I do feel like I need to lose about 20 to 30 lbs to be back to what I consider my "normal". Although I'd like to just state for the record that I have the most awesome husband ever who always tells, me on a daily basis, how beautiful he thinks I am and how he thinks my body is more sexy now then when we got married. It makes me love him all the more for saying such uplifting things, but I still struggle with what I see when I look at myself in the mirror.

I've done nothing but complain about my body for years now. It's hard to find time in my schedule though to exercise on a regular basis. The only real "free" time I have comes after I have all the kiddos in bed for the night and Vivi has been soooo clingy the past few months that on a good night I'll be lucky to have her down and out by 10 p.m. I can get the other 3 all in bed and good to go for the night by 8:30 p.m. but Vivi fights it. Even if she does go to sleep around 8:30 or 9:00 if I put her down she wakes up 5 or 6 time between 9 and 10 just to "make sure I'm still there". And it has to be me. If Eric tries to help out she just cries and cries, but if I go in there and she can see it's me then she will drift back off into la la land. 

So by 10 p.m. it's usually my "free" time. Let's face the cold hard facts here...by 10 p.m. at night the last thing running through my list of things to do is exercise. Heck, I consider it a productive use of time management if I get a shower, brush my teeth and pass out in bed before 11 p.m. So how am I to go about losing these extra few pounds that having me looking at myself like a teenage girl with no self-esteem what so ever? Well, when I figure that out I will let ya know...in fact you'll probably here about it on the news or something because surly I'd win some sort of medal, award or honor of great distinction for accomplishing the impossible...right???

For now though...there is something I can change and vow to try to change starting right here and right now. That is the words that I choose to let come out of my mouth when it comes to describing how I fell about my body. I know its now become a habit I must break, but no longer will I say "I'm so fat" or "I hate my stomach" or anything of that nature. Why you ask? Here is why I will no longer say negative things about my self image...

A few days ago I was outside with the boys and we were hitting golf balls out into the farmer field next to our backyard. After hitting a ton of them deep into the field I said to the boys that we should go on a "golf ball hunt". So they grabbed a bucket and off we went into the field to find as many golf balls as we could. After finding a lot of balls and walking half the field over, my 4 year old son Eli made said "Wow, we have been walking forever and my legs are getting really tired! But I'm really glad we went to find golf balls." In return I said "I know it's a lot of walking, but we are almost back home now. It was fun finding all those golf balls though right." His response "Well yeah it was fun, but I'm really glad we went for this long walk cause I ate to many pancakes today and my belly is getting really, really fat. So I needed a lot of exercise!"

Now, anyone of you that knows my Eli will know that the kid it nothing but skin and bones. He always has been and probably always will be my little skinny kid. He can eat like a hog everyday and not gain an once cause his metabolism is so high. So to have him think he is fat in anyway, shape or form just made my heart sink. I realize he's just parroting me and the things I've said about myself more then anything else. But that is not how I want my kids thinking. Beauty is not defined by weight or how skinny one is. I don't look at others and think "oh she would be so much prettier if she weren't so fat.", but yet I'm imposing that thought process on myself and it's rubbing off on my kids. I don't want any of my kids feeling that way...especially my girls when they get older. 

Society does that enough, I don't want to be guilty of teaching my children that their self worth and their beauty comes from how they look on the outside. Do I still want to lose a few pounds, of course...so I'm as healthy as I can be for the sake of my family and for myself. But from this day forward I'm choosing to see myself through different eyes. I know the Lord doesn't look at me and think "yeah, I love ya Steph...but you know your really starting to look fat there my child"...so why should I. Today I'm choosing to try to look at myself through the Lord's eyes and see what He sees in me. I'm choosing to see and say the positive stuff about myself in hopes to help install the morals in my children that I've always wanted. I want to teach them all that really beauty lives within you and whats in your heart more than any other place. It's a process, but one that I'm determined to stick with...whether I end up losing 30lbs or 3lbs. 

Ok, so I have to share the dream I had last night simply cause not only did it have me waking up in a cold sweat, but after I realized it was only a dream it did make me chuckle.

So my dream starts off with my being heavily pregnant with baby number 5 and heading up to the OB floor to get admitted for another c-section. I secretly have to admit that I did somewhat enjoyed the idea of being pregnant again in my dream. I mean for real...it is just awesome to grow a human being inside of ya from scratch. ;) Although those warm and fuzzy feelings quickly turned into panic as I realized I still had a 7 year old, 4 year old, 1 year old and 5 month old all standing there with me and Eric in my dream. The thought of another baby right now is enough to send me over the deep end. lol As the lovely nurses "hooked me up" to the monitor and then instructed Eric to take all the kids to the waiting room, I suddenly found myself in the room alone....this is where the dream turns into something straight out of a Mission Impossible movie...

Since I'm alone I jump out of the bed and strap the fetal monitor onto one of those heartbeat teddybears that just happens to be sitting on the chair in the room. I then began my escape from the OB ward by climbing through one of the drop down ceiling panels and into a maze of air conditioning ducts...all of which were outfitted with high tech laser beams....cause you know they take their security up on the OB ward pretty seriously. I mean you can't just have any joe schmoe coming in and smuggling newborns out through the air ducts! ;)

I can seriously hear the mission impossible theme song playing as I'm making my way through the maze of lasers until I reach the roof of the hospital where, conveniently, a repelling rope and harness are waiting for me. I repeal down the side of the hospital and then start walking to my van with a since of accomplishment and pride...cause everyone knows you can stop a birth of a baby by just leaving the OB ward! lol So as I get to the van I realize I've left my keys up in my OB room. And this is when I wake up in a cold sweat thinking I have to go back up to the OB ward and actually have this baby...because after esacping through mazes of laser proofed air ducts, and repelling off the top of a hospital, the idea of hot wiring the van or simply just walking home was to just WAY to far fetched for my crazy mind to dream or think about! lol

So after fulling waking and realizing it was just all a dream I found myself thanking the good Lord that my tubes are now tied, cause as much as I love each and all of my children with all of my heart...I know, that I know, that I know....4 is my limit. ;)

My new blog

So I've been told, more then once or twice, that I should start a blog. I've started one in the past but never really stuck with it because I wasn't really sure what I should be writing about. But I figure I'm just going to let my CRAZY, but oh so cherished, life as a stay-at-home mom be the inspiration for this blog. As a mom of 4 kids ages 7, 4,1 and 5 months...I'm giving myself about 2 weeks of actually keeping up with this blog before I give up simply due to lack of time.
Soooooo....here's to proving myself wrong! ;)

Now...what to write about? Well most likely anyone and everyone reading this will already know me so I'll skip to typical boring Bio stuff most blogs start off with. Most of the people that have told me that  I could blog have said so after reading comments off of my Facebook statuses. So just to give you an idea of what my day-to-day life is like I'm going to copy my facebook status from a few weeks back cause not only will it show you how funny, crazy my life can get it will also give me a chance to copy and paste something for my first blog entry because as we speak the Indians (my kiddos) are currently plotting their attack as I've now been sitting at the computer for more then 10 whole minutes straight, and this cowgirl needs to circle up the wagons! ;)

This was taken from my facebook status on Sept 9th 2013:

This place is like a madhouse today...it's just one thing after another for some reason today. lol For example while trying to get the lunch dishes cleaned I noticed the puppy, Lucy, got ahold of a crayon and had it chewed into a million pieces under the table. While cleaning that up Eli (my 4 year old) comes over to me crying and saying he doesn't know why but the toilet water just won't stop running out of the toilet. I run in there, unclog the toilet and start cleaning up that mess only to come out and find Charlie ( my 1 year old) standing on top of the kitchen table pouring out Jeremiah's (my 7 year old) glass of apple juice all over the table. So while cleaning up that mess Peppa decides to fly down from his perch and Lucy starts chewing on him like a chew toy. So I try to rescue the bird while Lucy is chasing him all around the kitchen. Peppa finally flys back up to his perch and before I can go back to cleaning up spilt apple juice I notice Vivi(my 5 month old), who has been contently playing on the floor on her play mat has puked and must have rolled her head all around in it so now she is in need of another bath. Then throw in me breaking up a few fist fights/angry wrestling matches between the boys and you have just a hint of what the last 20 minutes of my day have been like...and this has pretty much been how the whole day has been. lol I love my life but today is one of those days were bedtime can't get here fast enough! lol