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Trevor...

Still splashing his way through summer...

 

Getting closer to two years old as I type...

Thursday can take it's time getting here, I'm still not ready.

Yep, she's my daughter...

I wish I would have brought my camera to Devyn's swim lesson today. It was a classic Devyn moment.

The instructor dropped a pool ring to the bottom of the platform that the kids were standing on. It was maybe two and a half feet deep. At the end of the lesson she asked each kid to go down and get the ring.

One boy dove in head first and completely submerged himself to retrieve his ring. Two others put their faces in the water and reached down. Two balked at the entire exercise.

My daughter? Upon realizing that her arms weren't long enough to grab the ring without putting her face in the water, she did what any girl in my family would do... she stuck her foot out and grabbed the ring with her toes and brought it to the surface.

Yep, she's my child. Monkey feet and all.

Changes

This is our forecast for the next few days:

 

I'd say our weather is taking a turn for the worse.

Oregon is weird. Can't it ever just pick a temperature and stick with it??

Not Happening...

I'm in denial. This little boy - my baby - cannot be turning two. It's not that I want him to stay a baby forever. It's not that I miss having an infant (not at all!) It's that he just doesn't seem like a two year old.

It could be the not-talking thing. The only two years olds I know have a strong vocabulary of "NO!" and "I don't want to" and my baby doesn't even say "mama" or "up" Actually the one word he does say without prompting is "yeah" and that's definitely not the language that two year olds speak.

It could be that he has a big sister that has grown in leaps and bounds the last few years so pretty much anything compared to her is in slow-motion. She'll be starting pre-k in a few weeks and I can't wrap my head around that fact.

It could also be the fact that he's such a mama's-boy. He's going through a clingy phase right now where he won't let me out of his sight. Whether I'm walking into another room or leaving for work for a few hours, he throws a fit. He's happiest in my arms and prefers hearing me complain about his weight to walking. Every time I sit down for a moment of peace he's in my lap and ready to snuggle. Most other two year olds demand independence at every turn and hate being restrained in mama's arms.

Then again, it could just be those chubby baby cheeks and uber-long lashes that do it. I don't think any other two year old has ever been this darn adorable.

A good moment...

I know I mention more often than not the crazy antics that my kids get into on a daily basis. I know I complain about their constant creation of laundry and the hectic schedule they've thrown my life into. But deep down it's worth it. These two kidlets are the best things that ever happened to me and I can't imagine a single day of my life without them in it.

It's the little moments in between the chaos of pee-puddles and force-feeding (kidding!) (kind of)  that make me all warm and fuzzy inside, and those little moments are the ones that get me through each day.

For example, the other day Trevor was happily playing with a truck in the playroom. Devyn walks up, takes it out of his hands, and he screams and slaps her in the face (his current favorite way to get revenge... and no it's not okay with me) She in turn starts crying which causes him to cry because he doesn't like her crying and thank goodness I witnessed the whole thing so I knew what the heck these two screaming kids were all about (see? CHAOS) So Devyn goes to one corner, Trevor goes to another, and two timers get set. Two minutes later Trevor is out, and he goes back to playing with his truck. Two minutes after that the bell rings for Devyn to get out.

Instead of bouncing out of the chair and going to play, she walks up to Trevor with her head hanging and says in the tiniest voice imaginable, "Bubby, I'm sorry" Now this may not seem like a huge statement to anyone else, but this is the *first* time that Devyn has said this without prompting. She is still on the brink of tears and I can hear the waver in her voice as she fights not to break down from shame. She knew what she did was wrong, and a four and at half she is becoming a big enough girl to take responsibility and right her wrongs without me telling her what to do.

Trevor reached up, wrapped his arms around her neck, and all was right in the world again.

I fought back tears of my own and let them have their moment, then went to praise my little girl for doing something so incredibly right I couldn't hide my pride.

So yes, it's chaotic, but oh-so-wonderful at the same dang time.

Surrogacy Update

FYI, in the next couple of weeks I'll be moving all surrogacy-related posts and updates to a new blog. I'm finding a have a lot of readers who are only interested in the surrogacy-aspect of my life and don't really give a darn about soccer practice and boogers, and a lot of my other readers are family members who already know everything about the surrogacy long before I post it on here. So... two blogs. Coming Soon!

Anyway, here's where we're at this week:

Aug 11th: Started estrogen patches again.

Aug 25th: Ultrasound and blood work, if everything looks good then we set final date for final transfer and start praying. HARD.

Aug 29th: Ouch, back on progesterone.

Sep 3rd/4th: Transfer. Keep praying.

Sunday Outing - Air Show

The Oregon Air Show was this weekend out at the Hillsboro airport, so we took a few hours on Sunday to go relax and watch some really cool (and loud!) planes and jets do their thing. We parked about a mile away at Dawson's Creek Park and set up a little picnic area and just relaxed. Perfect way to spend a Sunday afternoon!

Anyway I took (of course) a few hundred pictures of all the planes but it's been a while since I posted pictures of these guys so lets leave out the boring and get straight to the cute:

 

During the downtime between flights, the kids kept themselves entertained gathering leaves and making a leaf-pile to jump in later.

They searched far and wide to gather this pitiful little stack before finally calling it quits. Not quite leaf-gathering season yet.

Just being cute. This little tank top is definitely a favorite of hers this year, can you tell? Almost every picture that I have of her this summer she's wearing this shirt.

Thanks daddy.... This little boy was fascinated with the planes but was not crazy about the jets and the loud noises, so he spent the entire afternoon in our laps. Oh and by the way, Costco has some awesome apple chips right now, the kids LOVE them!

Best seat around :)

WHY????

I am constantly baffled at the fact that someone is praying (and paying) for me to have a baby for them! I look around my former-house (now a certified disaster area) and wonder why on earth someone would *want* that?! The eighteen loads of laundry per day, cheetos smashed into the carpet and greasy little fingerprints on every surface (why are their hands always greasy??) The once beautiful - now broken - collectibles that grace every high, out of reach surface in our house. The twenty-two boxes of different kinds of cereal that cram my pantry (because Heaven forbid they eat the same kind twice in one week!) and the ooey-gooey fruit snacks that are crammed in every nook and cranny of my car.

Seriously, you want this?? I've been tempted just to loan them my kids for a week and then see if they still want a baby, but I'm kind of banking on a new camera sometime soon and the surrogacy money is going to help pay for that...

Anyway, here's a rundown of my average day:

8am: Wake up to Trevor pounding on his bedroom door. No "Mama I'm up!" from this little boy. Nope, pounding works great when you can't speak apparently.

9am: Attempt to take a 10 minute shower while the boy tries to beat down the shower door because he wants to be in there with me. Finally give in, let him play in the water for a few minutes, stick him back outside and let him dry off while I finish my shower in peace. Walk out the door a few minutes later and step in a puddle of pee because the darn kid can't pee in the shower like a normal guy.

9:30am: Attempt to dress the boy while he runs in fifteen different directions and pulls off every piece of clothing you put on him within five seconds unless it has a car (preferrably Lightning McQueen) on it. Put another load of laundry in dryer and promise him a car shirt later that afternoon.

10am: Out the door to run errands and take kids to whatever activity is scheduled that day. Listen to them fight over every dang toy and book in the car and ask for the ninety-second time that week why the DVD player isn't working and why daddy hasn't fixed it. Roll windows up and down every two minutes while tapping my foot along to the Wiggles blaring over the speakers in vain attempt to drown out the whining from the back seat.

12pm: Beg, bribe, threaten, and ultimately shove lunch down their throats because they think lunch time is play time and refuse to eat no matter what I make them.

1pm: Lay Trevor down for a nap and hear him pound on bedroom door and tear apart bedroom for first twenty minutes. About the time he finally settles down Devyn decides it's time for a "Big Band Concert" in the play room and starts beating on every "musical instrument" (aka door, window, breakable object) in sight. Once she's finally settled down (read: bribed with cookies) and watching a quiet movie, I attempt to sneak upstairs for some peace and quiet only to hear Trevor's goofy little chuckle coming from his bedroom which means one thing: he has his diaper off and he's playing with something he isn't supposed to (yes... that)

4pm: Time to shove the kids outside so I can attempt to unbury my kitchen and find something to make for dinner. Hear screaming, see Devyn pushing Trevor off of the swingset or out of the playhouse, need to mediate. Pour a bowl of bubbles and tell them to play nicely, go back inside. Four minutes later hear screaming because Trevor picked up said bowl of bubbles and poured it on Devyn's head. Time for baths.

6pm: Hear whining and fussing because - Heaven forbid - I didn't make Mac and Cheese or Chicken Nuggets for dinner. See lunch routine: beg, bribe, threaten, etc.

8pm: Bedtime!! FINALLY!! Chase naked boy all over house before someone can catch the slippery little dude (why did they make baby lotion so gooey?) and wriggle him into some form of pajama. Read two bedtime stories and answer a bunch of completely random questions from the girl before lights out and peace! NOT! Four trips to the bathroom, two glasses of water later and the girl is settled. Now we have about thirty minutes of more door-pounding action from the boy as well as hearing him "narrate" his own play between his dog and sheep "Bah!" "Woo! Woo!" "Bah!!" "Woo!"

9am: PEACE! My day finally begins. And my day goes like this: laundry, clean, work, fold laundry, clean more, work a little more. More laundry, hot bath, do dishes, laundry, bed.

So L&P, still want that baby?? ;)

Seriously though, it's all worth it. But that's another post entirely.

4 years.. lots of details

It's a small number in the general scheme of things. It's a small number period. But I still see it as just the beginning.

Four years ago today I said "I do" to the man I am still proud to call my husband. It's been a rough four years, and there have been many times where I know it would have been easier to walk out the door and not look back. But through it all, I know I've never wanted or expected easy. I've wanted love, and that's all he's given me.

So today I'm looking back at our wedding pictures and marveling at the careless attitude I had over that one, oh-so-important day. You see, I planned our wedding in two weeks. I sent out the invitations well ahead of time and then kind of "forgot" about the rest. So two weeks before the wedding, I had to start frantically searching for wedding officiants, photographers, cakes, and all that jazz. Thank God for the internet. Simply typing in "wedding officiants in portland, or" brought up an entire list. I went to a few sites, sent off a few emails, and had an officiant scheduled within days. Neither Scott or I attend a specific church so this was the easiest way to go about it for me. They asked what vows were to be read, I said "don't you have anything generic?" and when the answer was yes I moved on. For some reason it never mattered to me what was said that day.

Next I found a photographer who I thought was the coolest guy ever at the time. He actually specialized in auto photography which was why Scott adored him so much, but he had a decent wedding portfolio so I said "ok!" Now that I know a little about photography, I can't give a whole lot of praise on our wedding photos. But that's okay, I'm the least photogenic person on earth and he got a few that I love to pieces so he still has my respect.  

The cake was planned last minute and I literally saved roses from my bouquet and my sister's to "decorate" the cake with (i.e. hide where I stuck my finger in while transporting)

The bouquet itself was the most expensive part of the wedding (about $150 if I remember right) and was friggin' HUGE. But, I loved it. It was ordered from the florists two days before the wedding (living paycheck to paycheck back then, something had to wait!)

Overall it was a very quickly thrown together kind of day. Which was ok, because we had a far from typical "courtship" and a very not-typical wedding.

Married in front of Latourell Falls in the Columbia Gorge on a Monday morning in front of our immediate family, that was our perfect ceremony. And it was, aside from the fact that my mom wore nylons with slip-on shoes which caused us to break into hysterics as we were walking "up" the aisle. Aside from the fact that Scott left Devyn's white shoes on the dresser at home and, for me, that was a HUGE deal. And aside from the fact that halfway through the ceremony a senior-citizen tour bus stopped by and they all had to stop and watch our little event, therefore quadrupling the size of the guest list, all without me knowing because my back was to them and I had eyes only for Scott. Imagine my surprise when I turn and expect to see 10 family members yet before my eyes are 30+ seniors clapping away!

We did the "wedding brunch" at Multnomah Falls Lodge where I made the mistake of ordering a ceasar salad and Scott refused to kiss me for the rest of the day. My in-laws hosted a wonderful little "reception" the following weekend before we sailed off on our honeymoon and I got way too tipsy on champagne and my first taste of wine and hardly remember a thing. Which is apparently a good thing because I made a fool of myself and LOVED EVERYONE!!

All in all it was a wonderful, carefree event and I wouldn't change much about it. I wish that my mom had been there when I picked out my wedding dress (the first one I tried on, how easy was that?) and I wish that my dad had been there to walk me down the aisle. And darn it, I still wish that Devyn had her dang shoes on (they were so cute!!) I wish that I had paid more attention to the vows that were said because to this day I don't remember a word... I wish Scott would have been willing to write his own, because you know me, I wanted to and it would have been a SOB-FEST! But life isn't perfect, and after 4 years of fighting for a marriage, nothing has ever been more clear to me.

Love is worth fighting for. Happiness is worth fighting for. And after four years, I'm still happily fighting away and winning in this battle called marriage.  

Soccer - Week Two

Ok so week one I had a class to teach at work so I didn't bother bringing my camera to the game that I would miss half of, so here are this week's highlights:

• The girl still has no clue what to do with the ball aside from kick it; she doesn't care to whom or where it's going, as long as she gets to kick it once in a while.
• She is the only girl on her team and, as far as I can tell, pretty much the only girl in the entire dang league. I can't find where I misread "boys only" but either all the other girls have boy-like haircuts or my girl is the only female on the field (aside from the coaches)
• I've washed and shrunk her shirt and shorts twice and she's still swimming in them.
• She's very easily distracted, she stood like this for a good three minutes before I realized what the heck she was looking at and yelled at her to get back at the game:

 

• She's becoming one tough kid, didn't even shed a tear after being punched in the face:

 

• This is still condsidered a foul right? This little guy had a lot of nerve and had most of us parents bursting out laughing. He would continuously kick the ball out of bounds and then yell "THE BLUE TEAM DID IT!!! I SAW THEM!!!" The "rep" for this game was the red-team's coach so she let it slide.
• Which is another grrrr point which I'm sure I'll have to deal with a lot in the coming years: Just because you coach the red team during practice does not mean that you should root for them every step of the way and continue coaching them during the game while the blue team gets nothing. Four year olds deserve equal rooting man! *stepping off soap box now*