As I have stated in previous blogs, my football fanaticism has only recently started in recent years. It came with the territory on that day I was all dressed in white and promised myself to Jake forever. In marriage sometimes you do things just because your spouse wants to and that is why I started watching football every Saturday in the fall. It is what Jake and I did when we lived in California and then I, unexpectedly, began to love the game. I am not claiming that I am an expert but there is just something so fun about sitting around the TV praying for a hail mary with ten seconds left in the game.
My addiction started slowly. First, watching the games with Jake. Then I started to watch them without him. Shortly after that I found myself watching games that I wasn't really cheering for either side, I just liked watching the game. Before I knew it, I was part of a Fantasy Football league, following injury reports of players, setting the DVR for several games because I was watching another at the same time, and making sure I had the right line up on my team as I was driving to church Sunday morning. I can say that I do not check my team while I am at church but I will not say that I have not been tempted.
The other day I was cleaning up the house and Tylie and Mason were in my room watching some cartoons before I made them get dressed for the day. Mason was dancing with the "Little Einsteins" as he always does and inadvertently jumped on the remote control and changed the channel. It changed to ESPN and the were running a highlight reel of the previous weeks football games. As I rounded the corner I heard Tylie in a hushed but worried voice talking to Mason. "Hurry, Mason, hurry! Change the channel before mom sees the football!" I couldn't help but ask myself as I laughed behind the wall- "What have I become?"
Friday, October 21, 2011
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Mason is three!
Mason turned three on Oct. 2nd. I felt bad because it was the day after we got home from the hospital so I was in no shape to plan a party. Thanks to my wonderful family who made sure that he did not feel forgotten. It was a great day.
Friday, October 7, 2011
I don't know if it is the fact that we have a new little baby in the house, or the fact that he just turned 3 on Sunday, or the fact the he is just crazy but this last week Mason has decided to crank up the naughty meter. At first I felt bad for him because I know that his world has been permanently altered with this baby but all sympathy feeling have fled and I am left with exhaustion and frustration. In less than a week he has:
* Left the house without my knowledge and wandered to my friends house. Thank goodness she found him and saved him from the elements. I promise to never leave him to brush my teeth again!
* Screamed for 45 minutes because I put the frosting on his toaster strudel and he wanted to.
* Decided that Cade needed to be held while I was in the shower and I found him with Cade in a choke hold trying to drag him out of his bed.
* Threw sand in Tylie's face repeatedly while she sat there and screamed. ( Tylie obviously could have ran away but she is always one for a flare of drama!)
I could go on but for the sake of his future self esteem, I will stop with the highlights. I feel bad that he is struggling. He is bored. His mom doesn't leave the house because of this new baby. The weather has gone bad so it is hard to be outside. He wants the attention that he is used to getting but now has to split with another little human. I recognize all these things but in the heat of the moments when he is blatantly disobeying me, it is hard to remember why I feel bad for him. He is trying to find his place. His is smashed somewhere in the middle of this family and he is determined not to be forgotten. He is very good at this job.
Today he is off at his cousin's house playing for the day. I am so grateful that he can go to a place he loves and I don't have to worry a bit about him. He can expend all that energy and come home and collapse weary from play. Things will settle down and get better. I feel that Mason is, in many ways, a mirror of myself. He is acting out what I feel inside. Things are chaos right now. I never expected the transition from 2 to 3 to be this hard. Once I start to figure things out I am sure that a new routine will fall into place and Mason will calm down. Until then, I pray that the house is still standing at the end of this.
* Left the house without my knowledge and wandered to my friends house. Thank goodness she found him and saved him from the elements. I promise to never leave him to brush my teeth again!
* Screamed for 45 minutes because I put the frosting on his toaster strudel and he wanted to.
* Decided that Cade needed to be held while I was in the shower and I found him with Cade in a choke hold trying to drag him out of his bed.
* Threw sand in Tylie's face repeatedly while she sat there and screamed. ( Tylie obviously could have ran away but she is always one for a flare of drama!)
I could go on but for the sake of his future self esteem, I will stop with the highlights. I feel bad that he is struggling. He is bored. His mom doesn't leave the house because of this new baby. The weather has gone bad so it is hard to be outside. He wants the attention that he is used to getting but now has to split with another little human. I recognize all these things but in the heat of the moments when he is blatantly disobeying me, it is hard to remember why I feel bad for him. He is trying to find his place. His is smashed somewhere in the middle of this family and he is determined not to be forgotten. He is very good at this job.
Today he is off at his cousin's house playing for the day. I am so grateful that he can go to a place he loves and I don't have to worry a bit about him. He can expend all that energy and come home and collapse weary from play. Things will settle down and get better. I feel that Mason is, in many ways, a mirror of myself. He is acting out what I feel inside. Things are chaos right now. I never expected the transition from 2 to 3 to be this hard. Once I start to figure things out I am sure that a new routine will fall into place and Mason will calm down. Until then, I pray that the house is still standing at the end of this.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
He is here!
I am so happy to announce that my baby boy is finally here. After much anxiety and waiting, he arrived last Thursday. Here are the details-
Cade Clay Hancock
09/29/2011
8 lbs 2.5 ozs
21 inches long
Born at 4:40 in the afternoon
He looks so much like Mason that it is scary. I just kept looking at him and thinking "I have seen this baby before." I am so happy to have him here. He is much more work on the outside but now I can kiss him and hold him so all the work seems easy. It has been a long road but I am finally off this trail of my life. He is here, he is healthy, and Jake and I are happy. Life is good.
Cade Clay Hancock
09/29/2011
8 lbs 2.5 ozs
21 inches long
Born at 4:40 in the afternoon
He looks so much like Mason that it is scary. I just kept looking at him and thinking "I have seen this baby before." I am so happy to have him here. He is much more work on the outside but now I can kiss him and hold him so all the work seems easy. It has been a long road but I am finally off this trail of my life. He is here, he is healthy, and Jake and I are happy. Life is good.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Irony
Eight solid weeks of bed rest. Blessings, fasting, and prayers pleading with the heavens that this baby will stay in until he is strong enough to survive on his own. Enough of my tears to fill a bath to bathe my new baby in. Stress, stress, and more stress. Humble and grateful each night that I made it another day. Finally September 1st came and went. Our goal date. The date we had been clawing for. The date that we felt comfortable that he would be fine. And yet, this is what I have...
This picture is symbol of my life right now. My hospital bag. Packed, ready to go. Resting in the car so it will be there at a moments notice in case something happens. But nothing is happening. Nope, nothing. NADA! I am dilated to a three and 100% effaced. I should be lying in a hospital bed with an IV in my arm and an epidural on the way, right? I wish that were the case but I have been in this spot for 3 weeks now with no progress. Ironic? I think so. I have been on my treadmill for 45 minutes a day with no results. I have lost my plug, membranes have been stripped, eaten spicy food and still nothing. Jake and I have been joking that we need to do a blessing reversal somehow. Call off the powers of heaven that have so miraculously held my body where is needs to be. I am 39 weeks and very ready for this baby. I am trying to be patient. I really want to go on my own without being induced. It is really hard living on pins and needles. Where every pain or movement makes me wonder if this is it. Where each night I go to bed wishing that I will wake up in a gush of water knowing that my water broke. I would love to see Jake in a panic to rush to the hospital. He has had it too easy with the past two kids. How much longer can I hold out? How much more patience do I have? We will see....
This picture is symbol of my life right now. My hospital bag. Packed, ready to go. Resting in the car so it will be there at a moments notice in case something happens. But nothing is happening. Nope, nothing. NADA! I am dilated to a three and 100% effaced. I should be lying in a hospital bed with an IV in my arm and an epidural on the way, right? I wish that were the case but I have been in this spot for 3 weeks now with no progress. Ironic? I think so. I have been on my treadmill for 45 minutes a day with no results. I have lost my plug, membranes have been stripped, eaten spicy food and still nothing. Jake and I have been joking that we need to do a blessing reversal somehow. Call off the powers of heaven that have so miraculously held my body where is needs to be. I am 39 weeks and very ready for this baby. I am trying to be patient. I really want to go on my own without being induced. It is really hard living on pins and needles. Where every pain or movement makes me wonder if this is it. Where each night I go to bed wishing that I will wake up in a gush of water knowing that my water broke. I would love to see Jake in a panic to rush to the hospital. He has had it too easy with the past two kids. How much longer can I hold out? How much more patience do I have? We will see....
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
It begins...
Usually, at night, as Jake and I lie in bed we talk about many things. How work went, what is going on with the kids, the shed Jake is building in the backyard. Last night, however, we had a long talk about something we have never really spoke about before. Last night was different. There was a nervous feeling in the air. Twas the night before kindergarten...
We spoke of years flying by. We spoke of our fears for our little girl. How we were feeling like this was the beginning of it all. School lunches, homework, mean girls, tears, parties. The control was no longer ours. This is when we have to start to let go. To hope that the last five years have been enough to build her up when she has to handle a situation on her own.
We woke her up early to prepare. Her backpack was already packed and hanging on the front door. Her clothes laid out neatly on her chair. Camera and video camera waiting patiently on the counter. I did all the a good mom should do. Her hair was put up in her favorite "princess" hair do. Her clothes still stiff from the iron. Shoes so new they were free of creases. She had a good breakfast and dad gave her one last pep talk. Pictures were taken with all her friends as we patiently waited for the bus. It came. She waved goodbye and climbed on board. Then she was gone.
I was holding it together but my baby boy fell apart. He felt so abandoned by his sister and best friend. He wanted desperately to get on the bus with her. He sobbed and sobbed all the way home. I did ok. I was sad but I did better today than I did at pre-school. She was just so happy to go. I can't help but be thrilled when that cute little face is beaming at me through the bus window. All of the crap of growing up will come later but today was a good day. I feel like I climbed a mountain today. Emotions ran high for both Mason and I. Everything turned out well though. The worst part of all of this? I have to do it again tomorrow.
Monday, August 29, 2011
7 weeks
How many parents out there dream of an hour alone. Even ten minutes. Time away from the needs, wants, and tears. I know the feeling all too well. Wishing I could just lay down and close my eyes for a few moments without worrying about a catastrophe waiting to happen.
As good as this all sounds, I have been at it for seven weeks now and have decided that it is not as glamorous as it seems. It has been hard "checking out" as a mom and handing off my responsibility to everyone around me.
I am happy to report that the end is in sight. Week after week I have seen the doctor and my progress is still the same. My body has held better than expected and I am very near to 35 weeks. The baby is fine and growing. My doctor told me I could get up after 35 weeks so that has been my magical number all along. I have been slowly working my way back to life. Trying to find the strength in my legs again. I am anticipating going to a store again and shopping for my own groceries. When I was first put on bed rest I was 27 weeks. 35 weeks seemed years away. Now I am at the end and I hope to remember this time once I am fully mobile again. I hope to remember all of the kindness that was so willingly given to us. I hope to remember the gratitude I felt to everyone around me. But most of all, I hope to remember this....
When this all began, my family held a special fast for me and I was given a blessing. I had faith in the fasting but most of all, I felt support by everyone. I felt buoyed up by everyone else. I struggled to feel much else because I was so concerned about my unborn baby. Worry consumed me. Each day that went by was a blessing and each week was celebrated that my stomach was still full with baby. Last week, while I was at the doctor's, I found myself talking to him about how wonderful it was I made it this far. He expressed to me that he thought I would have the baby within two weeks of being on bed rest. He never imagined I would make it this far. He was so concerned because my cervix measurements had cut in half in a time span of three days and at that rate, I should have a baby about a month old by now. I told him that I had a lot of prayers and blessings in my behalf. He just smiled and said, "Well, we know those work. Just tell Jake no more blessings or we will go to 42 weeks with this baby." We laughed about that but on my way home, the gravity of it all hit me. I hope to never forget how much of a miracle this all has been. My doctor said it best when he said "A few weeks ago you were racing to the finish line and now you have just sat down. Absolutely no progress has been made since." I know that this is not a fluke.My Father in Heaven has watched over me and held my body right where it needed to be. He has blessed me beyond what I could have expected and I hope to never forget it. This baby will come and he will be fine. My faith is stronger than it was seven weeks ago. That has made it all worth it.
As good as this all sounds, I have been at it for seven weeks now and have decided that it is not as glamorous as it seems. It has been hard "checking out" as a mom and handing off my responsibility to everyone around me.
I am happy to report that the end is in sight. Week after week I have seen the doctor and my progress is still the same. My body has held better than expected and I am very near to 35 weeks. The baby is fine and growing. My doctor told me I could get up after 35 weeks so that has been my magical number all along. I have been slowly working my way back to life. Trying to find the strength in my legs again. I am anticipating going to a store again and shopping for my own groceries. When I was first put on bed rest I was 27 weeks. 35 weeks seemed years away. Now I am at the end and I hope to remember this time once I am fully mobile again. I hope to remember all of the kindness that was so willingly given to us. I hope to remember the gratitude I felt to everyone around me. But most of all, I hope to remember this....
When this all began, my family held a special fast for me and I was given a blessing. I had faith in the fasting but most of all, I felt support by everyone. I felt buoyed up by everyone else. I struggled to feel much else because I was so concerned about my unborn baby. Worry consumed me. Each day that went by was a blessing and each week was celebrated that my stomach was still full with baby. Last week, while I was at the doctor's, I found myself talking to him about how wonderful it was I made it this far. He expressed to me that he thought I would have the baby within two weeks of being on bed rest. He never imagined I would make it this far. He was so concerned because my cervix measurements had cut in half in a time span of three days and at that rate, I should have a baby about a month old by now. I told him that I had a lot of prayers and blessings in my behalf. He just smiled and said, "Well, we know those work. Just tell Jake no more blessings or we will go to 42 weeks with this baby." We laughed about that but on my way home, the gravity of it all hit me. I hope to never forget how much of a miracle this all has been. My doctor said it best when he said "A few weeks ago you were racing to the finish line and now you have just sat down. Absolutely no progress has been made since." I know that this is not a fluke.My Father in Heaven has watched over me and held my body right where it needed to be. He has blessed me beyond what I could have expected and I hope to never forget it. This baby will come and he will be fine. My faith is stronger than it was seven weeks ago. That has made it all worth it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
