Life Changed

We had a good summer, we didn't get to everything I wanted but we hit the most important.  We went to Family Camp and had a great time, ate at a new pizza place, went swimming as often as possible (and I have the swimsuit lines to prove it), went to the fair, and rode the ferry simply for ice cream.  My entire plan for the summer was to soak up every possible moment with the boys and enjoy it. No tutoring, home school, appointments, or constant to-dos (except for VBS). What I didn't realize was how much my life was going to change this fall.

In my mind I had a pretty good plan for fall. Boys would all be in school, Finn for 4 hours. I would have one drop off, and if I figured out the bus (i.e. convinced Jack to ride it) only 1 pick up.  I had a gardening day, grocery shopping day, meet with friends day, and clean the house day. It was going to be my year to regroup and recharge. No kids for 4 hours a day AND the ability to be home.  But as, with most of my plans, that was a good plan but not the plan I was supposed to have.

On the last week of summer, when I was on my very much look-forward too, solo vacation I got an email:

"Do you want to teach kindergarten??"

Um, what?  Not really, I was pretty much going to have this amazing year ahead of me where I took a mental health break. I did not want to work full time, especially since Finn is only in school part-time.

But the email I sent back was,

"Can I think about it?"

I had only a few hours to decide. School would start in one week and they needed a teacher today.  As a good friend said later, "it was probably good you didn't have time to really think about it as you would have over thought the decision".  And it was true. By 5:00, I had said yes and I started work the next day at 8:30.

I won't lie, I went back to my hotel and cried. And then I cried some more. I texted my sister who recently started a new job and asked if she also cried. I called Brandon and cried. I cried in the shower, I cried laying on my bed.  And then I woke up at 4:00 AM and couldn't go back to sleep so I watched Scandal. Because really, what else was there to do?

In the end, it is a good decision. I love teaching more then I can explain. I swore I wouldn't go back to the classroom, I would never teach kindergarten, and yet here I am. Working full time, in a kindergarten classroom and when I am at work, I am so happy.  I'm happy at home too, but there is also guilt. Am I failing Finn? I was supposed to spend this year with him (at which point Brandon said, you've already had two years with just Finn, this might be good for both of you). I have dropped the ball on so many things with Jack and Micah. And yet, they are doing well. This is probably the best start to the year for either of them. For Jack seeing me at lunch everyday makes him happy. Knowing he can come find me during the day if he is sick is comforting. Micah, on the other hand, hides in the bushes if he sees me or pretends he doesn't know me. But that's okay because every now and again I get a glimpse of him with his friends or sitting in an assembly and my heart is so full of love for him.  Plus, I missed the back-to-school meeting with Micah's teacher. They had it without me and just filled me in. Everyone was happy and there was no crying, so I am calling it a win.  Finn, well, it's still rough and we are still adjusting.

When the first day of school came. I did not drive home and dance around an empty house. Instead I welcomed 16 kindergartners, 15 of them the first in their family to go to kindergarten, into my class.

This is both the happiest and the most overwhelmed I have ever been.  And I am so thankful I spent this summer taking the time to be with my boys.

Taking a Moment

When the boys went back to school last year I grieved. Not just because school was starting and that meant schedules, homework, lunches packed, and on and on. It meant that my time to be with my boys was over and I never really got to enjoy them. Last summer was homeschool, vision therapy, swimming lessons, more swimming lessons, pressure to have the boys ready for school.  Anytime we had at home was reading, journal writing, sight words, letter sounds, vision activities, and fighting.  This summer I do not want September 1st to come and to feel that once again I lost moments with my boys.

But now it's mid-July and between tutoring (not by me), occupational therapy, MOPS planning meetings, VBS (what was I thinking), swimming (again), I look at my calendar and sigh.  I feel the days slipping by and yet I still keep saying, "when summer begins …" and yet summer is in full swing.  

Today was the first day with no plans, no meetings, no tutoring, no swim lessons, a completely free day. And then my MIL asked if we could come and help her pack. Actually, she asked if she could pay Jack to pack boxes and I said we'd all come because I'm not sure he is that helpful yet.  Today was sunny and I told the boys after Grandma's, and the grocery store, we would be off for some summer fun.  Except that the grocery story is our kryptonite.  We can not make it though without some spectacular parenting choices, lots of touching, fighting and extra items added to the cart.  By the time we were done the only plan I had for the rest of the day was home, unload groceries, and nap time for all.  

Somewhere in between putting the groceries away, and getting the boys out of room time, I made a decision. Swimming (in which I would have to get in the pool) or splash park (with everyone else in the city) would not be great choices for us at this time of day, but we could still take a moment.  

While the boys put on swim suits, I hosed off the nasty spider infested plastic pool, hunted down the broken-but-works-well-enough sprinkler and set up our own water park.  I threw out the beach towels, grabbed some snacks and called the boys outside.  

It wasn't what we had planned, it wasn't the perfect day I had in my mind, but as my youngest came running outside he said, "this is the best day ever!".  As I sat there in my lawn chair, watching the boys run from pool to sprinkler and back, I chose to let this moment sink in.  This moment where I had no place to be, the boys were laughing and having fun, and I could just enjoy the time with my boys.

I grabbed the moment and I held on with both hands. And I am so thankful.

End of Year

School ended last Friday. On one hand it felt like an eternity, but on the other, I swear I just dropped them off on the first day.

This year there was no crying when I asked for pictures.  Jack even suggested taking pictures with the teacher gifts - a complete surprise.

Jack's teacher this year was the perfect fit for him. She loved his quirky sense of humor, encouraged his love of dance, and listened to every story he had to share every single day.  There were tears when the day ended and we had to say goodbye - and they were not from me.

Micah's teacher I am pretty sure is doing her own dance that she will not have to do any parent teacher conferences with me next year. I told her she has 2 years before Finn comes to 1st grade to rebuild her Kleenex supply. Micah had a great year, he is our author, constantly writing unique and funny stories.

These boys. How did they get so big? Love these two.

And Now You Are 9

How is that possible? 

One more year until double digits? 

How am I old enough to be a mom to a 9 year old boy. 

How did I get so lucky to be blessed with such an amazing, funny, sweet, sensitive, creative, confident little boy?

I don't know how it has happened, how you are already nine years, but I know I wouldn't trade a minute of it.  

I hope you never lose the part of you that makes you unique among your peers.  You are truly one of a kind and I am so proud to be your mom.  

For The Last Time

For the last time I walked into this room and sat at this table.

Four years ago I walked in with my 7 month old baby, and Brandon at my side. This was an exciting moment, our first parent-teacher conference. Even though it was only preschool it was such a big step. I was no longer the teacher welcoming in nervous, or excited parents, but I was that parent. The one the teacher smiles at, asks to sit, and then begins to tell them about their child.

This conference did not go as I expected and my smile, turned to a scowl, and then to tears. Unfortunately, this was not the only time I cried at a conference. Last week I went to a conference for my middle son and when I walked into the room I saw that all was ready for me. At the empty table where we would sit was a full box of kleenex. Oh, yes, my tears are expected and prepared for.

Four years later I am once again at that little preschool table. This time it is for that little 7 month old baby that came with me the first time. This time I came alone. Not even Brandon came with for moral support.  This time I was there to hear about my youngest, my baby, my last one, the one about to turn 5.

It was a new teacher but the conversation was the same. For the third time it was recommended that my beautiful, amazing, smart, funny, active boy wait one more year for Kindergarten.  This time I did not react with anger or sadness. I smiled and thanked the teacher for her honesty and for truly knowing my son. We were on the fence with what to do for school next year and her knowledge of my son helped to solidify the decision.

Three times I have sat at this table (okay actually four, we did it twice for Jack). Three times I have been told my son was not ready for kindergarten and should wait.  Twice it was for social and emotional development, once it was for academic.

Each time the decision on what to do was all consuming, and sometimes overwhelming.  Thinking of pros and cons, what this decision would do for my son's future, what was truly best for that particular son, consumed me.

One son we kept at this same preschool for two years.

One son we decided at the last minute to send to kindergarten.

One son we will wait but move to a pre-K closer to home.

For the last time I sat at this table. This time I did not cry, I laughed, I listened, I talked.  But I did not cry.

I cried later realizing the end of an era for my boys and me.

Micah In The Middle

Selfishly, I probably always wanted three kids just simply so I could have a middle child. And my Micah is so much like me, in looks, personality, and birth order.  Being in the middle has its pros and cons.  You get to be both a big and little sibling.  But you never get your own room (unless you live in a mansion). You are never first or last. The middle seat in the car tends to be yours.

When I was in the fifth grade I remember sitting at the kitchen table and my mom handed me a present. "What is this for?" I asked.
"It's a 'just because' gift." my mom said.
Just because I was me. Just because I was in the middle. Just because that was a really tough year.  I'm not sure but it will forever be one of my favorite memories. I opened the box to find purple leggings, complete with stirrups, and a white sweatshirt with a multi-colored confetti design on it. I LOVED that outfit and wore it as much as possible. And every time I did, I remembered that it was just for me. And just because.

Recently, life has been hard for little Micah. School isn't as easy for him as it is for Jack.  His very best friend from Kindergarten is turning out to not be such a good friend this year.  He seems just a little lost in the chaos that is our family.

A few Saturdays ago between soccer ending and Christmas stuff starting, we found ourselves at home. It was the perfect day for a date with Micah.  Instead of pb&j for lunch, we headed to his favorite restaurant, Subway, for a lunch date. One tuna sandwich with cheese, olives, and pickles, later, we were set.  I tried a bite of his and gagged. He tried a bite of mine and declared it disgusting. We both agreed we loved our own sandwiches. We talked about school, soccer, and Hunger Games.

It wasn't a gift but it was a lunch date, just because.

Turning Tables

I have written many times about our annual Seaside trip, I wrote about family camp, I even wrote about our trip to Spokane. What do all of these have in common?  They were trips I took the boys on and left Brandon home alone.  If you know me, then you also may have heard my slightly snide comments regarding how Brandon felt about these trips. This is the part of the blog where you can roll your eyes and decide I am a terrible person, it's okay.  You see, every time I left, Brandon would be sad. From the first trip when Jack was 8 weeks old, to family camp this summer, when Jack was now 8 years old, he hates when we leave.  I used to say to him, and probably my friends, MOST guys are happy when their wives leave and take all the kids with them.  I didn't understand why he had such a hard time with it.

Brandon has slowly begun to come along with us on our trips.  Seaside, is no longer a sister's weekend, more like a Sister-Wives weekend.  I did ask Brandon to come when Finn was born because I did not feel that I could keep all 3 boys safe at the ocean for the weekend. Considering I lost Jack one year, that was probably a very wise parenting decision.  Family Camp is now truly "family camp" as Brandon joins us for the weekend (that is another blog post).  There are no trips that I now take with just the boys, and part of me is sad for that.  Slight tangent: being a mom of 3 boys, I feel a strong need to do things with just the boys and myself.  Camping in the woods with just mom? I think that is a pretty cool adventure and a memory the boys will always have with them.  

So, when Brandon told me he wanted to take the boys camping, my first reaction was: no way.  Selfishly, I didn't want hm to have his own special trip when I didn't get to have one.  Also, I have a terrible fear of being home alone. Immature, probably, but still as soon it is dark, I am locked in the bathroom crying.  I blame it on the movie, Are You In the House Alone? Don't watch a scary movie with older boy cousins around. They will scare the bejezus out of you and forever cause you to be in therapy.

I handled the weekend away as I handle most things that scare me. I pretend it's not happening. Even up to the minute they were leaving, I was cleaning the bathrooms and vacuuming. Packing, nope. Food shopping, not my job. I had no idea what clothes they were taking, what they were going to eat, or how Brandon planned to handle the weekend.  Even avoiding the issue, 4:00 still came, and the boys all climbed into the car.  

And that is when I started to cry. I tried to not cry in front of the boys, but it took Brandon a heck of time to finally get in the car to leave. By that time Jack said, "Mom, you have tears in your eyes." and then "Mom, I do too".  I give them the best smile I could, made a funny joke about having to take care of the dogs, and went inside.  And cried some more.  

Because now I know why Brandon hates it.  I did enjoy having time to myself at home, but I missed the boys so much.  I hated going to bed alone at night and having no one there to keep me warm. (Not to be mistaken with how much I love my weekend away, that is something I still love). But being home, without my family, was sad.

When I stopped crying, I went upstairs to get the coffee Brandon had made for me, and saw this:

And then I smiled.

Full Disclosure: I did not stay home alone, because I am that much of a wuss, my 16 year old niece stayed with me to keep me safe.

Another First

This week marked Finn's last first day of preschool. Next year he may or may not go to kindergarten, that has yet to be decided, but this will be our last year at this school.  Jack started here when he was 2 years old, for the past 6 years I have driven down the same road, walked up the same stairs to drop off one and sometimes even two boys.  This was my first step away from all kids all the time.  These teachers were the first to know that a little Finn was on his way. They were the ones to let me know that my Jack was more special then I even knew. This is where I made some of my best mom friends. Where I finally accepted that I was a stay-at-home mom and joined an organized mom's group.  This place has been my life for the last 6 years.

This summer we spent quite a bit of time looking at preschools closer to home, making pros and cons lists, trying to convince Finn he would love to go to a new school.  In the end, we chose to stay where we were. Long drive, short hours and all. This is where we felt we needed to be.  And when Finn came down the stairs after his first day of school and whispered into my ear, "I loved it". I knew we made the right choice.  This little boy gets one more year, to be in the big Pre-K, just like his brothers, to be with his very best friend, and to be mine for just a little while longer.

Why We Moved

There are many things I like about our new house and location but there are some things that still make me sad. I miss walking to get coffee, and walking to the park. I miss being close to our church and my friends. I miss my kitchen.

But then today I am reminded of why we moved. Even before breakfast I had three boys begging to go for a bike ride. They willingly got dressed, put on shoes and helmets all before I found my coffee.  And then they were off.

We live at the end of a dead end road with very few cars.  The boys love it. They ride up and down the road, having races, playing games, and of course trying to not have another bike accident.

All the while I sat there, drinking my coffee and eating breakfast.  It was a perfect way to start the day.

Finishing Strong

For years I've been in a small group with this woman whose life I feel I am mirroring.   At the end of each school year she talks about encouraging her three sons to  'finish strong'.  She is so excited for school to be ending, for getting her boys back, and for no more homework! As a former teacher I was always slightly skeptical of how excited she was for school to end. Until this year. I have been counting down the days until my boys were finally out of school.

Being a new school this year I was unprepared for the amount of events that happened the final week. Between field day, final field trips, year end parties, and last day send offs, I was at school every single day.  And I kept repeating to myself and my boys, "just finish strong".

And finish we did. But maybe not as strong as I had hoped. I had plans for a special last day breakfast, a secret note tucked into lunches, thoughtful teacher gifts with hand written notes.  And then we woke up at 7:20.  Yes, 7:20. When we need to leave for school at 7:50.  No special breakfast, no little notes in lunch boxes, in fact no lunch boxes at all. The only thing special was the boys were able to buy lunch since I was too late to even make lunch.  We made it to drop off on time and with only a few tears.  It wasn't quite the morning I had planned, but I'll take it.

Micah's Kindergarten Teacher

Jack's First Grade Teacher

Here's to summer finally being here!

Jack's Plan

Memorial Day weekend once again found us in Seaside for our annual trip. This was our 11th year there, which seems insane. I remember talking with my sisters years ago about what would this trip look like when my oldest nephew was in high school. Well, now we know, we are still going, we are still having fun, just in a different way.  But that is not the point of this post.

One of the changes we did make this  year was to stay at a place with no pool. Not having a pool is quite upsetting so we had to find an alternate plan.  Little did we know Seaside had an amazing community pool.  No more freezing swims, the pool was almost like taking a bath. Albeit with 50 strangers, but whatever.

On the way to the pool one day I saw a church for sale. I am always a little sad when I see a church building that is no longer in use.  On the little country road my grandparents live on, stands a little white church. I remember going to services there, hearing my grandpa preach, being baptized there, watching my sister get married.  But with all things change happens, and for this little church that meant closing for good. And becoming someones house. I am sure they think it is cool that they live in an old church, but every time we drive by, I still feel a little sad.

So as we drove by this church I said, "Look a church for sale"

And Jack says, "We should by it"

I was so happy, in my mind I was thinking what a sweet, caring, godly boy Jack was.

And then he said: "And then we could tear it down"

WAIT! WHAT?!

Here is his plan:
We could tear down the church and then build a bank. That way all the money in the bank would be ours. And then we could rob the bank, but we wouldn't go to jail because the bank and the money are ours.

I guess that's a creative idea, and he obviously understands not wanting to go to jail, unlike his brother, but still.  While I was picturing buying the church and building a community, Jack was planning to become a wealthy business man who has a slight criminal side.

At least he's thinking.

To My Mini-Me

Dear Micah,

Tonight as I was starting the wind-up to bedtime, I said something like, "It's been a fun, busy day, and you have all run all day, and should be tired."

To which you said, "Tomorrow will be even more fun and busy."

And I hate to admit that my mind went blank. When I asked you why, you said, because it's my BIRTHDAY.

And, oh my, yes it is.  We have been counting down your birthday for the last two weeks. We counted down as soon as mine ended. We counted down through Disneyland and back.  I woke you up today singing the "Tomorrow" song, until you asked me to stop. I spent all day yelling, "TOMORROW IS YOU BIRTHDAY". But then tonight my mind just froze.

I can not believe you are turning 6 tomorrow. Your birth story is still my favorite one to tell. You are the only boy that was born in the middle of the night. You are also the only son of mine that was a true surprise. I loved having your aunts there waiting to meet you, to see the tears on Oh-cho's face when you were born.  The moment your dad yelled, "It's a boy!" and I yelled, "Oh my God!", you become ours.

You are so special to me. You carry my dad's name. You are the one boy that truly looks like me, and therefore looks like my dad.  You have the absolute best expressions, and can make my heart melt with a simple grin or break with the sad-I-don't-want-to-cry but-I-am face.  You are truly an individual in my sea of boys.

Being the middle is hard. I blame most of my years in counseling simply on being a middle child.  Never first, never last, never to have your own room, being in the middle is tough. But you are the most perfect middle child. You have been a support to Jack, an encourager and a playmate. The way you look up to him, play with him, and of course fight with him, has helped Jack more then you will ever know. And yet, when Jack is gone, you turn and become Finn's playmate. You become the leader, the big brother.

You are an enigma. So brave, strong, fierce, outgoing, athletic, and yet sensitive and hesitant too.  You love to run fast, be tough, and talk big. But you hate, hate, hate amusement park rides. If the ride is fast, involves a drop, dip, or spin, you will not be on it.  And yet, in all other areas of your life you are exactly like an amusement ride. You are loud (which I love), fast, you constantly change course, and keep us guessing what will  come next.

You tell amazing stories so far you have told people you are blind, you can't use scissors because you are Egyptian, and you are half German because your socks don't match. With each story you give a little half grin and a shrug of the shoulders.

You make my heart melt just looking at you. From your perfectly kissable cheeks, to your still-toothless grin, you are truly my son.

Happy, happy, birthday Micah. I promise, when you wake up in the morning, I will NOT forget that it is your birthday.

Love, Mom

Turning 8

Yesterday was Jack's 8th birthday. Hard to believe it has been 8 years since Jack entered our lives. I am loving getting to know this older boy, his sense of humor, his caring nature, his love for his brothers.  I am honored to call him my son.