California livin'

We have returned from our cross-country adventure and it was a great mix of activity and relaxation.  Day #1 was action-packed and fun! We visited Stanford, which was impressive in so many ways. The campus was vast and beautiful and I think I increased my IQ a few points just be being among the students.  We got the golf cart tour from Jerod, which seemed necessary with how large campus is.

 

I have a thing for beautiful churches and this one did not disappoint.  See, I got smarter and holier on this trip.

 

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We headed to Oakland for the game. And if I'm forced to watch an NBA game, I guess this was the way to do it. I enjoyed the pre-game setup.

  

 

That is a sculpture made of chocolate...next to wine and chocolate truffles samples. #heaven

Ok, I guess we were actually here for the game. 

 

Harrison Barnes got us some great seats the Warriors hung on for the win.  We got to catch up with him and James Michael McAdoo post game.

 

 

 

 

We were nearing the 23 hour mark of being awake and all I wanted to do was sleep. But first we had to stop for In n Out Burger for Eric (a 20 minute wait at least) and I would have snoozed in the 1.5 hour ride to Santa Cruz except Eric insisted on rolling the window down to let in the 50 degree wind so he would stay awake. I was exhausted and frozen but Eric gave me two options: freezing or dead. I hate being cold but the alternative sounded worse. But we made it and I crashed until 6:30. The next morning I also woke at 6:30. For no reason.  My body doesn't understand vacation.

 

We went to breakfast (grapefruit mimosa and French toast) with my cousin and his wonderful wife.  Then we hopped in the car to drive down the coast to Ojai. I don't think we quite understood what we were getting into when we (Eric) decided to take the scenic route down Highway 1.  It is not for those with a weak stomach. 

 

 

 

We arrived to our beautiful house for the weekend.  Here was our backyard view. 

 

 

 Hungry, just grab an orange off of the tree in our backyard.  Not too shabby.

 

On Saturday, while Eric golfed, I went on a hike.  It was beautiful (not much isn't at this place), and I got my adrenaline fix when I made the questionable decision to scale a large rock with a new friend.  We ran up it, which is really the only way to climb a steep rock.  The height wasn't really what got me, but the fact that we had to run up the on the left side and the drop into oblivion was a touch too close for comfort.  Anytime that the only way to safely return to even ground is to go down on your butt...well lets just say, while thrilling, its not something I would ever do again.

 

 

 

Sunday was the wedding, which was beautiful and fun and a great end to the weekend.

 

 

 

Seeing the kids after a long day of travel is always such a treat. We were so excited to see them and they were so excited to see us.  But I think the most joy came from Eric's parents on being relieved from kid duty.  Avery is a poster child for how not to behave at night.  Eric's mom has as much energy as anyone I know, and even she looked a bit tired. 

 

Back to the grind!

 

Traveling...alone

The one advantage of waking up several times a night for the last 8 months (5 years, really), is that waking up at 3 am to catch a flight doesn't feel that weird.

We have finally kicked off our first summer vacation! We drove to Eric's parents last night and spent the night...well, technically we just spent 6 hours there.  Avery went to bed around 10 after sleeping most of the car ride. She woke up at 11:30, then again at 2, conveniently, so I could feed her one last time and grab 45 extra minutes of sleep before waking up and heading to the Charlotte airport.  Apparently, Avery woke up at 5:11, ready to go for the day.

You're welcome, Grandma!

Eric's mom may need to be nominated for sainthood before our trip is over. Where are we going, you ask? To California!  Our original plan was to leave Thursday evening, fly into LA, and make the hour drive to Ojai, where Eric's friend is getting married. We are staying at a beautiful house and I was (am) so looking forward to a laid back vacation.  But of course, I'm married to Eric, who will never pass up an opportunity to do and see as much as possible. And since Game 5 for the NBA playoffs is being played in Oakland tonight, obviously we have to go. But first we will drive from San Francisco (where we are now flying into) to Palo Alto to see Jerod, our friend who just got the head men's basketball coaching job at Stanford.  Then we will drive to Oakland for the game. Then we will drive to Santa Cruz to spend the night with my cousin.  Then we will drive to Ojai tomorrow. Then my vacation will begin.

Things Eric is not worried about: change fee to fly to San Francisco; getting up at 3am and essentially guaranteeing we will be up for 24 hours straight when taking into effect the time change; not having a house or hotel room to use to change/freshen up/shower/rest/pump; me having to pump extra milk to last Avery through an additional day (I was a pumping machine last week); me having to pump in very random locations throughout the day (no layover in Dallas may mean I'll be pumping in the plane bathroom), me having to figure out how to keep said milk cold in my handy cooler I'm carrying throughout the day. I'm envisioning us rolling up to the guy at McDonalds and saying, "Excise me sir, can I have a quarter ponder and some ice to keep my breast milk cold? No, I don't need to super size that."

Ok, I'll put my violin away. Because you no what? Someone else is responsible for my kids. Have you ever been really sick and when you finally get better, you are so happy and thankful to feel good and you wonder why you don't appreciate your health every moment of your life? It's sort of like that when you're used to traveling to with kids.  You know what is super easy? Traveling without kids. Long security line? I can wait! Crowded plane? I have my own seat!  Need to go to the bathroom? I get to go by myself!

Ok, it's 7am, my flight lands in an hour and I have some really important things to get done. Like sip my coffee and read my book.

Party time

Back when Jackson was born, Eric promised Brady, who turned two years old two days later, not to worry, because he would be getting his own birthday party.  And of course, I turned and looked at him like he was nuts, because, well do I even need to explain?  For all you people (men, apparently) who don't know what I mean, birthday parties can be a big pain in the ass.  The last two years, I've done a ton to prepare for their double birthday parties.  This year?  Basically, I prepared an Evite...and I showed up.  It was glorious.

We did it at the Smith Center, which means lots of the entertainment sort of takes care of itself.  The kids played basketball and various other games around the gym, ate pizza and cake and we called it a day!  Props to Eric for executing the majority of the party.  I do like to be in charge (he will tell you), but I won't lie, I also like not to be in charge.

Brady has always been a bit of a ladies man.  He and his friend Emmy (who he calls his girlfriend) were playing at our house the other day.  They marched over to me and announced that the werye getting married, and I wasn't invited to the wedding.

At the party, Brady had two older admirers who were watching him play basketball.  The boys in their athletic gear playing basketball...the girls gazing from the sideline in their dresses....we are not breaking any stereotypes at this birthday party.  But Brady was digging it.

 

 

By the way, neither of these girls is Emmy, so I guess he's keeping his options open.

Some of the players showed up to partake in the festivities.  Joel, Theo, Nate, and Justin all made appearances.  And they played hard, apparently enjoying the thrill of blocking the shots of six-year-olds.

 

 

And dunking on them.

 

And stealing it from them.

And of course, cake.

I showed Eric this picture later that night and he said, "Oh, we should have grabbed Avery."  Poor girl, she's such an afterthought.

So I'll end the birthday post about the boys with a picture of the girl. 

Happy birthday, brothers!

Letters to Brady: Five years old

Brady,

Happy 5th birthday!  As you told me the other day, "'I'll be a whole handful!"  And yes, you sometimes are.  But more often than not, you are the easy-going child that I had from the start. You have a lot of your dad in you...which is wonderful, and terrifying.

You and Jackson have an incredible relationship, and you deserve so much credit for fostering such a great bond.  An older brother holds much power.  I have been so proud to see you use that power for good.  You want Jackson to succeed and to feel good about himself.  You let him win, you tell him he's great, and strong, and good.  And by saying those things to him, you prove them about yourself.  Jackson is a sensitive soul and I'll watch him get upset when someone takes a toy or wrongs him in some way.  For many younger brothers, that's the norm. But that is one lesson Jackson didn't learn from his older brother.  You've always showed him what it means to share, how to take turns, how to work out a disagreement, how to right a wrong, and when I see Jackson do those things to his peers, my proud moments are amplified.  I feel pride not only in Jackson, but in you.

You'll graduate from preschool next week and after the summer ends, you'll hop on yellow school bus and drive off to basically, become a teenager.  I'm skipping a few steps, but kindergarten is like the gateway drug to big scary things.  You still have this innocence about you that I see and already miss, because I know I will wake up one day and it will be gone.  Sure, it'll be nice if, for example, if you stop sucking your thumb when you go to kindergarten.  But it won't be nice if it takes kids teasing you to do so.  I don't worry about you making friends, that's always come easy for you.  I do worry about the other kids who might not make friends as easily, and hope with all my heart that you will be the kid that notices, and does something about it.  I don't lose sleep worrying about you getting bullied, or about you bullying others, but I do pray that you won't be a bystander when you see it happen to someone else.  Standing up to bullies takes an extreme bravery that not every child possesses.  A whole new scary beautiful world is about to open up to you, Brady, and I hope you can be brave and be bold.  I don't care if you are the smartest in your class or the best on your team.  I do care that you are kind.  And I am comforted because I know that you are.  I read something the other day that stuck with me.  It said, "Don't become so concerned with raising a good kid that you forget you already have one."

I have a great one. 

These last five years with you have been the best of my life (and I had some pretty good years in college).  Back when you were a baby and I wrote you monthly letters, I remember writing about how I was suprised not how much I loved you, but how much I liked you.   I never expected to like a child as much as I liked you, even as a baby.  That holds true today.  I love you, and I like you, and I am honored to be your mom.  Happy birthday.

Love,
Mom

Letters to Jackson: Three years old

I've overwhelmed by this task of writing you a birthday letter, because while a consider myself good with words, I know despite my best efforts, I will fall painfully short of expressing just how much you mean to me and just how much I love you.

 

I have three kids, and of course I adore them all, but you have managed to grab a very special place in my heart. I can't quite put my finger on what it is about you that makes you so special in my (very bias) eyes.  Maybe it's the combination of pure innocence mixed with your impressive ability to articulate your feelings. Maybe it's the way you make me laugh harder than anyone can, and make me want to pull my hair out at the same time. Maybe its the pure love I feel when you wrap your arms around my neck.  Maybe its how you tackle your older brother and kiss your little sister.  Maybe its how useful I feel when your rub your lovey (my hair) and beg me to just cuddle with you.  Maybe its everything wrapped into one and so much more. I asked you yesterday why you loved me. You didn't miss a beat and you replied with a very straight face, "Because you're a good mommy."

And I believed you.

I've heard other people tell me that I'm a good mom, but you know what? They don't hear me when I lose my temper, they don't see me when I'm impatient, they're not around when I say things that make you say, "Mommy, that hurt my feelings."  You're only three, but three years has provided me an ample opportunities to mess up.  I mess up a lot. Each day.  And despite all my faults, you treat me like the best mom in the world.  I'll give you the inside scoop...I'm not.  But being a good mom overall and the best mom for you  is all I could ever hope for.

Jackson, life got a whole lot harder three years ago when you were born.  Juggling a baby and a toddler made for a tough year.  I wasn't sure my love for my second child could ever match my love for my first.  I couldn't have imagine how silly such worries were three years ago.  I love you so much that sitting here at my computer I realize how inadequate the English language is when expressing love.  I mean, I love chocolate, I love sleeping, and I love you.  There just needs to be another word.  While my words will express my love for you adequately, I will make it my mission to show you my love every day that I am with you, and I will teach you forgiveness for the times I fall short. 

Thanks for an amazing three years, buddy.

Love,
Mom
 

Letters to Avery: 8 months

Dear Avery,

I feel like I wrote last month's letter, like, yesterday.  Time is speeding by and you are flying by with it.  We've had a good month and dare I say it, I think we're heading in the right direction with your sleep.  Last night was night #2 of sleep training.  Night #1 was a little rough.  You woke at 11pm,  I fed you, but then let you cry it out a few hours later when you woke up.  It took an hour.  Sorry, but it hurts me more than it hurts you.  Well, maybe not, but its not fun from my end either.  Last night was better.  I fed you once at 12:30, then let you cry at 2:30. It was shorter, maybe 20 minutes on and off, then you slept until 7:15! And you woke up so happy!  This is big time progress and I'm hoping for big things on night #3.  Let's start this eighth month out with a bang!

You're as cute as ever with your blond hair (its finally coming), your blue eyes, and your dimples.  You love food and you're a pro at feeding yourself.  You prefer it actually, and will often knock away any attempts at being fed by a spoon.  You've got two bottom teeth and one coming in up top.  You're not afraid to use them either and I've been on the receiving end...while I've been nursing you.  That's a good way to get weaned, girlfriend.

You can sit yourself up by yourself now and you do this aggressive bouncing thing on your butt that cracks me up.  You're not completely crawling yet, but you're so close.  And you're pulling up on things, but still unsure about what to do once you get to that point.

Our photo session today was a bit less calm then usual with your brothers home from school.  But take a look at the pictures and its obvious that they adore you.  They'll wrestle with you, tickle you, and will probably make you cry on many occasions, but they love you absolutely and will be your best protectors.  Not that you'll need it.









On Mother's Day, you were dedicated at Pop's church in Newton, along with two other babies, including your cousin, Ari.  The other babies calmly stood (were held) in front of the congregation while the ceremony proceeded.  You made sure that you would be remembered.  You hollered, fussed, and generally made a racket until right at the end when, as your finale, you puked all over me and my nice dress.

Welcome to the church.

Avery, I'm so glad you've come into our lives.  You've made us laugh and kept us on our toes.  You've taught me patience and I've learned that my heart can love more than I thought possible.  We love you now, and always.



Love,
Mom

Happy Mother's Day!

Happy birthday to my mom, my mother-in-law, and all the wonderful moms out there who make the world go 'round.

And thanks to the little monsters who allow this day to be possible (and who allow it not to be relaxing boring).  I was attempting to organize videos and pictures on my computer this morning, since that has basically never been done.  I couldn't have picked a better day.  Here are a few of my favorite pictures as a mother from the last few years.

 

I believe that children (and dogs) are discerning and can see through to the true essence of a person.  On this Mother's Day, may we all strive to see each other through our childrens' eyes.

Well, unless your child is mine, in which case....awkward!

Video lookback

I'm feeling a bit nostalgic these days...maybe its witnessing the last "firsts" with Avery, maybe its Brady going off to kindergarten and acting so darn old, or maybe I just know that the cuteness factor will fade (probably in direct correlation to the fatigue).  Anyway, I was looking through some old videos that I had put on the blog, and decided to bless you all with another look of some of my favorites.

From our old house!  Brady LOVED to shoot baskets when he was one.  Well, he still does at four.

This is a look at my manly husband as he takes care of business with the wildlife at our house.  I think we had been in the house about a week.  And Brady had just emerged from the bath, if you're questioning the naked toddler.

As I look back on the videos, its clear that these brothers shared a bond at a very young age.  They bond with their sister too, but I think since they have each other, she can sometimes be forgotten.  This is Jackson at almost 8 months, the exact age of Avery now.  I still love that bum.

And this was back from when I had time to do clever things with my videos.  My favorite is Jackson eating....that boy can eat. 

And finally, to bring us to current day, and to prove that Brady can still be cute and adorable, here's a video from my Mother's Day breakfast at the preschool.

Falling objects

Raising children can be terrifying.  The number of safety precautions you're expected to maintain is countless.  Put your baby on his back when he sleeps and do not think about putting a blanket it his crib until he's seven.  Buckle your kids in their car seats and make sure the buckle is high on their chest.  If its below 32 degrees, you must put a heavy coat on your child or she will get the chill but your child must remove her coat before getting in the car seat to ensure optimal safety.  Tether furniture to the wall.  Cut grapes in half. Cover electrical outlets.  Lock all doors and cupboards.  Its exhausting.  After having children, I'm so thankful that I am not a worrier by nature.

Tonight's experience at dinner proved that catastrophes can come in forms you would never anticipate.  First, a picture of a sign that hangs near our kitchen table.  This is not a new Happy Hoot Creation...in fact, I made this long ago and its probably been hanging at least a year and a half.  It is large and heavy, probably close to 10 lbs, and much heavier than the wood I currently use. 

We're eating a family dinner, four of us around the table and Avery in her executive chair underneath the sign.  And then it falls.  On Avery's head.  The sign, which has been hanging uneventfully for over a year, decides to fall at the particular moment when a baby is underneath it.  There are 1,440 minutes in a day and Avery is in that highchair for maybe 30 minutes of those.  Nobody touched the wall.  What are the chances?  The weirdest thing is that the nail was still perfectly in tact...it didn't give way.

It was a scary few minutes as we watched the heavy board hit Avery's little head and listened to Avery's screams.  Thankfully, it became clear to me fairly quickly that she was fine.  Loud screams are good in this type of situation and she actually stopped crying after about two minutes, was smiling after about five.  She did not walk away unscathed, however, and has a nice bump on her head.

I had to reassure Eric about 12 times that I didn't think we needed to go to the doctor.  For the 100th time, I thank God that He is looking down on our family.  I feel like each of my children have accidently died at least three times and He's the reason they're still kicking. 

We will keep an eye on Avery tonight.  If she sleeps for more than three hours, I will start to worry.

Just another night

No night is every the same in our house.  Sometimes, Avery is up all night, sometimes Brady pees the bed, sometimes Jackson falls out of the bed, and sometimes, on those special nights, its everything all wrapped up in one sleepless party. Last night, thankfully, was not one of those nights.  However, that does not make it restful.  Here is an average night with my beautiful family.

8pm: Avery is down and boys are in bed. I'm exhausted and contemplate going to bed but a) I live for post-bedtime time and b) I have stuff to do.

8:45: Eric is sawing z's on the couch, clearly exhausted himself. This happens approximately 72% of nights.

9:30: A HUGE clap of thunder makes me jump out of my skin. Eric doesn't flinch. I wait for the inevitable....yes, there it is. Avery is crying.  That's my cue to head upstairs.

9:45: Avery is back asleep. She fussed for a few minutes but popping the paci back in did the trick. I'm feeling pretty good, maybe I'll get another few hours of peace, so I am going to bed. A wide open bed!  Let's see how long this lasts (the bed and the silence).

10:00: Ok, not long.  Avery is back awake. How annoying, but thankfully I haven't fallen asleep yet. I'm just reading CNN.com about how Trump won Indiana, basically ensuring his victory as the Republican nominee. Reading while listening to Avery cry. Avery=America. 

10:05: Another short crying session complete.  Avery has still not come out of her crib...small victories.

10:40: Ok, now I'm pissed. Avery is awake again and like me, seems more pissed this time. I've been asleep for maybe 20 minutes and the temptation to nurse her back to sleep is strong. But I do some mental math and realize that although this is her third time to wake, Avery ate only three hours ago so she really isn't that starving.  I'm gonna let her cry.

10:55:  15 minutes of some pretty intense cries. I go in a few times to give her the paci but frankly, it seems to tick her off more. The last time does the trick and she gives in.  My bed is still empty, lonely, begging for someone to please, please, just sleep in it. I eagerly volunteer.

12:45.  Avery wakes. 5 hours since her last meal so I feed her and she goes right back to sleep. My bed? Still empty.

3:45: After three straight hours of sleep, Avery realizes that something is amiss. Too much sleeping! I debate letting her cry and work it out herself, but end up nursing her back to sleep, using the excuse that I don't want her to wake up the children.  Frankly, I just don't want to wake up myself.  After a quick bowl of cereal for me (breastfeeding is a high calorie burning activity), I am back in bed, which Eric has found his way to, as well as Jackson.

4:30:  Avery is crying. I poke Eric with instructions to give Avery her paci. Mercifully, it works!   Brady has joined the family so our bed is now full.  I'm too tired to care.

 

6:15: In a rare morning where Avery isn't the first to wake, Jackson wakes up asking for a lost paci. I find it and enjoy some morning snuggles, which he excels at.

6:30: "Avery is awake!" Jackson is first to hear her and is slightly more excited than me. I send him in to entertain her for five minutes while I revel in the last moments spent with my beloved. Until we meet again, bed.  I'd love to meet your for a elicit mid afternoon rendezvous, but my other loves are a jealous bunch.

So there it is. An average night in the Hoots house.  The biggest problem is that this is average, not a particularly bad night. And that it's been going on for 7 months (well, to a degree, 5 years).  My hope is that one day when I am nostalgic about my babies and romanticizing about how life was back then, I can bring myself down to reality.  I know these monsters are good at that.

 

I do love them so.