Yesterday, I was lamenting to Mark about my hatred for my reproductive system and was seriously considering firing my ovaries or my uterus, or whatever it is that doesn't make babies as quickly as I want it to. You could say that Mark is the more reasonable and logical one in the relationship and he didn't really see that as an effective reaction. Mark doesn't let his disappointment over not getting pregnant right away show and his reaction is to say "I didn't pray enough for it this month. I have to do better next month." I appreciate this and the fact that he verbalizes what I think but don't necessarily say.
So anyway, we were standing in the kitchen yesterday discussing this and Mark said to me "Megan, the best things are worth the wait. We had to wait for Karter and he brings me so much joy." Those words melted my heart. As I looked over at my baby boy dragging around my clean rolling pin on my very dirty floors, I knew what Mark said was true. My heart overflows with joy every time I look at him (even though my current view of him is on the video monitor refusing his nap for the second time in two days.) I could not picture a more perfect boy for us nor could I imagine loving something as much as I love him.
I may not understand God's timing or want it to be that way in the moment, but looking back I always recognize that it is for my own good that God works the way He does. I may never get to be pregnant again (ok, that's a little Debbie Downerish after only 4 months) but I have a little man that brings me so much joy already and that's enough for me.
Sunday, January 20, 2013
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
The 7 Wonders of Toddlerhood
Today, as I was watching Karter run around like a crazy man in the basement, I thought about how my life has changed since having him. You could say it's been overtaken by a 17 month old that is more stubborn than me, more determined than me and a lot cuter than me. As I watched him standing on the DVR player turning on and off the TV, I realized that there's no need for me to see the 7 Wonders of the World, because I've got the 7 Wonders of Toddlerhood right here in my house (and anyway, we're never traveling outside a 6 hour driving radius again!)
The 7 Wonders of Toddlerhood (at least in this house)
The Wonder of the Dish Rag. Maybe Karter is really dirty or maybe I'm a terrible laundrist (is that a word?) but there is nothing more rank than the smell of the dish rag that I wipe his face with. Everytime I step into the kitchen, I am overwhelmed by this terrible smell. I usually check the compost buckets to see if that is the origin and it never is. It's always his dish rag. I mean, it's not like I don't change them out daily (ok, every other day) or never rinse them off. They just smell. Terribly.
The Wonder of the Iron Belly. Karter starts the day with a regular sized belly, but come bedtime it is sticking way over his pants and hard as a rock. It's likely that if you ran into it, it would bruise you. From what I've heard, this isn't totally abnormal...it's just shocking to see and feel. Sure, when I eat a lot I can see my belly grow, but this is on a totally different level. It's like he has a steel plate inside him that only comes out at night to protect what he has eaten during the day. Freaky.
The Wonder of Simplicity. Silly me, I thought Karter "needed" toys for Christmas. In actuality, I could have wrapped him up a mixing spoon, pen and an electrical outlet cover and he would have been happy. The child has a toy room on every floor and rarely touches anything in it. I need to realize that he doesn't "need" anything in the form of materialistic things and I need to stop making him feel that he does.
The Wonder of the Laundry Basket. I feel like his laundry basket is always full. How does one acquire so much laundry? I mean, we're past the stage where he is pooping on every outfit. I do more of his laundry than Mark and I's combined. Then it hits me. I have different standards of hygiene for him than I do for myself. Mark and I will wear the same thing to bed several nights in a row, but if Karter so much as sweats in his pj's I demand a new pair for the next night. And I'm not going to lie, Mark and I will sweat in the same set of sheets for at least a month before I wash them...but as soon as baby boogers hit Karter's sheets I am ripping them off and putting them in the laundry. This would all be well and good if only there was someone to put the clean laundry away...
The Wonder of Momma's Plate. Apparently, food tastes better if is comes off of my plate and my utensils. We gave Karter some cooked carrots tonight in his bowl and he refused to eat them. As soon as he saw some on mine, he wanted them...with my fork. So being the fool that I am, I gave him my fork (when he had a perfectly good Karter sized one on his plate) and I ate with my hands. True story.
The Wonder of The Climb. I've realized within the last few weeks that it is a shame that I have anything in my house that is higher than 4 inches off the ground. I'm pretty sure that Karter carries a tape measure in his pocket and goes around finding things that are high enough that if he stands on it that I will freak. And it's working. Yesterday, he started standing on the toy box. He only had one fall, but it was enough to scar me for awhile.
The Wonder of the Trash Can. For some reason, as soon as I throw something away, it's value multiplies astronomically. Or at least that is what I tell myself every time Karter digs something out that I have thrown away (which is all the time.) I can't even tell you how many times I have walked in on him blowing his nose on a used tissue from the trash can (I just threw up a little in my mouth picturing this.) It's gross. Super gross. Well, not as gross as when he takes my used straws out of the trash can and licks them...
I guess really, the biggest wonder of them all is that after a day filled with all this, I love him even more than I did the day before. We can have the most frustrating, tantrum filled day but as soon as I realize I have to be without him for the next 12 hours, my heart aches for him. But then I think about all the good tv I can get caught up on, and it doesn't ache so much...
The 7 Wonders of Toddlerhood (at least in this house)
The Wonder of the Dish Rag. Maybe Karter is really dirty or maybe I'm a terrible laundrist (is that a word?) but there is nothing more rank than the smell of the dish rag that I wipe his face with. Everytime I step into the kitchen, I am overwhelmed by this terrible smell. I usually check the compost buckets to see if that is the origin and it never is. It's always his dish rag. I mean, it's not like I don't change them out daily (ok, every other day) or never rinse them off. They just smell. Terribly.
The Wonder of the Iron Belly. Karter starts the day with a regular sized belly, but come bedtime it is sticking way over his pants and hard as a rock. It's likely that if you ran into it, it would bruise you. From what I've heard, this isn't totally abnormal...it's just shocking to see and feel. Sure, when I eat a lot I can see my belly grow, but this is on a totally different level. It's like he has a steel plate inside him that only comes out at night to protect what he has eaten during the day. Freaky.
The Wonder of Simplicity. Silly me, I thought Karter "needed" toys for Christmas. In actuality, I could have wrapped him up a mixing spoon, pen and an electrical outlet cover and he would have been happy. The child has a toy room on every floor and rarely touches anything in it. I need to realize that he doesn't "need" anything in the form of materialistic things and I need to stop making him feel that he does.
The Wonder of the Laundry Basket. I feel like his laundry basket is always full. How does one acquire so much laundry? I mean, we're past the stage where he is pooping on every outfit. I do more of his laundry than Mark and I's combined. Then it hits me. I have different standards of hygiene for him than I do for myself. Mark and I will wear the same thing to bed several nights in a row, but if Karter so much as sweats in his pj's I demand a new pair for the next night. And I'm not going to lie, Mark and I will sweat in the same set of sheets for at least a month before I wash them...but as soon as baby boogers hit Karter's sheets I am ripping them off and putting them in the laundry. This would all be well and good if only there was someone to put the clean laundry away...
The Wonder of Momma's Plate. Apparently, food tastes better if is comes off of my plate and my utensils. We gave Karter some cooked carrots tonight in his bowl and he refused to eat them. As soon as he saw some on mine, he wanted them...with my fork. So being the fool that I am, I gave him my fork (when he had a perfectly good Karter sized one on his plate) and I ate with my hands. True story.
The Wonder of The Climb. I've realized within the last few weeks that it is a shame that I have anything in my house that is higher than 4 inches off the ground. I'm pretty sure that Karter carries a tape measure in his pocket and goes around finding things that are high enough that if he stands on it that I will freak. And it's working. Yesterday, he started standing on the toy box. He only had one fall, but it was enough to scar me for awhile.
The Wonder of the Trash Can. For some reason, as soon as I throw something away, it's value multiplies astronomically. Or at least that is what I tell myself every time Karter digs something out that I have thrown away (which is all the time.) I can't even tell you how many times I have walked in on him blowing his nose on a used tissue from the trash can (I just threw up a little in my mouth picturing this.) It's gross. Super gross. Well, not as gross as when he takes my used straws out of the trash can and licks them...
I guess really, the biggest wonder of them all is that after a day filled with all this, I love him even more than I did the day before. We can have the most frustrating, tantrum filled day but as soon as I realize I have to be without him for the next 12 hours, my heart aches for him. But then I think about all the good tv I can get caught up on, and it doesn't ache so much...
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Doing It All Backwards
For the last 11 days, Mark and I have been off work for Christmas
Break. It's been wonderful, minus the stomach flu that plagued us
both. I love having him home and I think that Karter loves having us
both around even if he does go around shouting "mum mum" if I am not
within 5 feet of him. Mark goes back to work tomorrow and I start
watching kids again, and while we both love what we do, I will miss
having him around (and not just so I can trick him into unloading the
dishwasher.)
Today, as I was watching Karter mimic Mark as he was working on the spare bedroom, I just wished that we could reverse the order of things. Why can't we be "retired" when we are younger, with young children we want to spend time with, with spouses we still like (well, I will probably like Mark for the next 387839 years)? Why can't we enter the workforce when our kids are off in college or starting their own families.
I mean sure, this isn't the most ideal situation. Having 60 and 70 year olds doing work meant for young bodies probably isn't realistic. But I wish there was another way to have more time for family and less for work. Winning the lottery? Getting my own reality show? Ok, so those probably aren't very realistic either.
I suppose since it's not likely that Mark will find a position that requires him to work 20 hours for the same amount of pay, it's up to us to make the most of the time we have together. I thought Mark was on board with my retire when you're young idea too, but after he was with a temper-tantrum-throwing Karter for most of the day, I think he was excited our break was coming to an end tomorrow...
Today, as I was watching Karter mimic Mark as he was working on the spare bedroom, I just wished that we could reverse the order of things. Why can't we be "retired" when we are younger, with young children we want to spend time with, with spouses we still like (well, I will probably like Mark for the next 387839 years)? Why can't we enter the workforce when our kids are off in college or starting their own families.
I mean sure, this isn't the most ideal situation. Having 60 and 70 year olds doing work meant for young bodies probably isn't realistic. But I wish there was another way to have more time for family and less for work. Winning the lottery? Getting my own reality show? Ok, so those probably aren't very realistic either.
I suppose since it's not likely that Mark will find a position that requires him to work 20 hours for the same amount of pay, it's up to us to make the most of the time we have together. I thought Mark was on board with my retire when you're young idea too, but after he was with a temper-tantrum-throwing Karter for most of the day, I think he was excited our break was coming to an end tomorrow...
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