Days are getting tough here in the Gariety household. Tantrums are many and patience is few. Today, in one of Karter's nicer moments, I just looked at my little guy and my heart overflowed with love for him. So instead of focusing on his never ceasing climbing and karate kicking diaper changes, I decided to think of all the positives...
18 month old Karter, the things I appreciate about you are...
-The fact that you cleaned up the crayons you purposefully spilled all over the floor today. While this did not come without a battle, I appreciate that at only the promise of a double high five you finally gave in. I was only a slightly less appreciative when the high five went on for 10 minutes and when each one began with a running start and ended with a dive, but that's besides the point.
-Your desire to keep a clean household (well you want me to keep a clean household.) Your new favorite word is "dirt" and I'd be lying if I said I heard you utter it less than 100 times today. Yes, I see that fuzz on the floor. No, I don't want to pick it up and take it to the trash can. But after your insist upon it for several minutes, I give in and pick it up...then throw it across the room to where you can't see it (the trash can was too far.)
-Your ability to make your dad do silly things. Your second favorite word right now is "hat" and it's the only thing you care about it. If I ask you if you want daddy to come home, all you say is "hat" because you want dad to come in wearing it. There have been several nights in the last few weeks when we had to bribe you to eat your dinner by having your dad wear his knit hat at the dinner table. Tonight, after I got home from the store, your dad told me his cold got worse tonight because he was so hot while giving you a bath due to you demanding he wear his knit hat while the space heater was on. Makes me chuckle just thinking about it.
-You are just turning into such a little man. Everyday I am more amazed at who you are and what you are becoming. I knew it was inevitable that you would grow up, but now that it's starting to happen, I am trying to savor every moment. Sure, the days are tough, but I wouldn't trade these days with you for anything!
Friday, February 22, 2013
Sunday, January 20, 2013
Patience Is A Virtue I Don't Posess
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.
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.
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...
Monday, December 3, 2012
Oh, Mary
I can't even tell you how many times I have put up or seen a nativity scene in my life, but it's safe to say that it's at least 897. So it was strange to me to feel such emotion putting it up this year. Last Christmas, Mark's parents gave Karter a Little People nativity scene. We finally got it out and put it together this year and he was so excited by it's contents (actually, he finds joy in sending the angels flying off the roof of the manger.)
I on the otherhand, felt sadness for Mary as I looked at her Little People self standing there next to baby Jesus (before she got launched under the couch.) My heart was heavy for her (I guess there is something about Little People that evokes emotion in me) as I imagined her on the day that she gave birth to her beautiful baby boy. What joy she must have felt as she held him in her arms for the first time...but in that same moment did she feel any sadness or fear? I mean, God chose her to be the mother of Jesus so I would gather she was well versed in scripture. Which would mean she knew the prophecies as to what would happen to her son. I can't even imagine.
I have so many fears and worries about what will happen to Karter in his life. How would I react if I knew what would happen to him, how his life would end? I don't know if I could handle it. I would probably cradle him in my arms each day and never let him go (which isn't too far off from our daily routine now-his choice, not mine.) Which is probably why God chose Mary to be the mother of Jesus and not me.
So while I always hold dear the true meaning of Christmas, this year I remember Mary and the inner emotional struggle she must have gone through so many Christmas's ago. Oh, Mary.
I on the otherhand, felt sadness for Mary as I looked at her Little People self standing there next to baby Jesus (before she got launched under the couch.) My heart was heavy for her (I guess there is something about Little People that evokes emotion in me) as I imagined her on the day that she gave birth to her beautiful baby boy. What joy she must have felt as she held him in her arms for the first time...but in that same moment did she feel any sadness or fear? I mean, God chose her to be the mother of Jesus so I would gather she was well versed in scripture. Which would mean she knew the prophecies as to what would happen to her son. I can't even imagine.
I have so many fears and worries about what will happen to Karter in his life. How would I react if I knew what would happen to him, how his life would end? I don't know if I could handle it. I would probably cradle him in my arms each day and never let him go (which isn't too far off from our daily routine now-his choice, not mine.) Which is probably why God chose Mary to be the mother of Jesus and not me.
So while I always hold dear the true meaning of Christmas, this year I remember Mary and the inner emotional struggle she must have gone through so many Christmas's ago. Oh, Mary.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Uterus Frustrations
So here's the thing, Mark and decided in September that we were going to actively try for another baby. It's November and I am already discouraged. I mean, realistically, did I really think it would happen in the first two months of trying? No. Kind of realistically, did I already have my grand reveal plan for the Christmas family gatherings? Yes.
I guess what I dread most is that it will take as long as it took with Karter to get pregnant. That was a lot of negative pregnancy tests, a lot of doctors appointments and a LOT of blood drawn. I'm hoping to not have to do all of that this time because I was really getting too friendly with the lab techs at CompuNet.
I ultimately know that God's timing is much wiser and grander than my own. While I think I NEED a baby now, God's probably like: "Hey girl, remember all those sleepless nights you whined about before? Enjoy these 11.5 hrs of peace and quiet now while you can." I know, looking back, that even though I wanted Karter after one month of trying, God knew exactly when to send him to us. So, while technically I'm being impatient, I know God's got this and I'm ok with that (but it would be totally awesome if He could just tell me when I'll get pregnant so I don't get my hopes up each month.)
Hopefully, I will soon be posting a picture letting the facebook world know that there is a baby in my belly (seriously, I have the greatest idea ever and I didn't even Pinterest it.) Until then, I am gladly taking donations of pregnancy tests because I don't think Mark will allow me to buy anymore (so I might be kind of obsessed...)
I guess what I dread most is that it will take as long as it took with Karter to get pregnant. That was a lot of negative pregnancy tests, a lot of doctors appointments and a LOT of blood drawn. I'm hoping to not have to do all of that this time because I was really getting too friendly with the lab techs at CompuNet.
I ultimately know that God's timing is much wiser and grander than my own. While I think I NEED a baby now, God's probably like: "Hey girl, remember all those sleepless nights you whined about before? Enjoy these 11.5 hrs of peace and quiet now while you can." I know, looking back, that even though I wanted Karter after one month of trying, God knew exactly when to send him to us. So, while technically I'm being impatient, I know God's got this and I'm ok with that (but it would be totally awesome if He could just tell me when I'll get pregnant so I don't get my hopes up each month.)
Hopefully, I will soon be posting a picture letting the facebook world know that there is a baby in my belly (seriously, I have the greatest idea ever and I didn't even Pinterest it.) Until then, I am gladly taking donations of pregnancy tests because I don't think Mark will allow me to buy anymore (so I might be kind of obsessed...)
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Who's in Control?
Obviously not me. We joke that Karter rules this house and it's
basically true. Sure, he has boundaries and I tell him "no" several
times a day (whether he listens is entirely different) but when it comes
down to it, if something isn't going to cause harm or years of therapy,
I'll give in.
Last night, for example, the little prince was in full force. Mark was out of town, so Karter decided that he would keep me busy. After scarfing down a big meal, he got out of his chair and stood at the pantry and whined. Now, sometimes I worry he is not getting enough to eat (I know that's comical when you look at his belly...and he does always have a bowl of food in his hand), but last night I knew that wasn't the case and I knew what he wanted. Goldfish. I have been trying to hide from him the knowledge of this snack, but Grammie brought him some this weekend. Ever since, he's been standing at the pantry several times a day whining for them.
I decided to give in last night. I mean, what's a few goldfish before bedtime? I got him a handful and asked if he wanted to eat them on the couch and he politely agreed. Once on the couch, the little prince decided he needed to be covered up. He grunted and pointed until I covered him up with a blanket. It was like I was living a freaking "If you give a mouse a cookie" book. As he was laying there cozy underneath the blanket as I handed him goldfish, he demanded that I turn on the tv (though he doesn't watch it, he just likes to know he can make me turn it on.) So there I was, sitting next to my 1 year old, who was cuddled under MY blanket on the couch, being his human snack bowl with my hand filled with goldfish...and it was there that I was reminded that my life will never be the same. My priorities, everything, has changed. In the best way possible. Evenings like this are how I want to spend my evenings. Even if it means, I'm being bossed around by a 1 year old.
Last night, for example, the little prince was in full force. Mark was out of town, so Karter decided that he would keep me busy. After scarfing down a big meal, he got out of his chair and stood at the pantry and whined. Now, sometimes I worry he is not getting enough to eat (I know that's comical when you look at his belly...and he does always have a bowl of food in his hand), but last night I knew that wasn't the case and I knew what he wanted. Goldfish. I have been trying to hide from him the knowledge of this snack, but Grammie brought him some this weekend. Ever since, he's been standing at the pantry several times a day whining for them.
I decided to give in last night. I mean, what's a few goldfish before bedtime? I got him a handful and asked if he wanted to eat them on the couch and he politely agreed. Once on the couch, the little prince decided he needed to be covered up. He grunted and pointed until I covered him up with a blanket. It was like I was living a freaking "If you give a mouse a cookie" book. As he was laying there cozy underneath the blanket as I handed him goldfish, he demanded that I turn on the tv (though he doesn't watch it, he just likes to know he can make me turn it on.) So there I was, sitting next to my 1 year old, who was cuddled under MY blanket on the couch, being his human snack bowl with my hand filled with goldfish...and it was there that I was reminded that my life will never be the same. My priorities, everything, has changed. In the best way possible. Evenings like this are how I want to spend my evenings. Even if it means, I'm being bossed around by a 1 year old.
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