Get It Together ...

February has been a total whirlwind for me. 

 

From sitting at the auto repair shop having our van worked on (for three days in a row) to shopping for and buying Travis another truck to starting up our new Business Adventure with AdvoCare to Kolt having another double ear infection to my Khloe suddenly growing out of all of her winter clothes to running more errands than I choose to recall to the husband feeling the need to dismantle our mantle in order to make a newer, nicer one (eh, hum. I don't quite know what was wrong with the other one, but whatevs) to me starting a new 6:30 AM workout regimen to this month being the month that Travis is "Deacon of the Month" in which he has to be at the church loads earlier than normal to 

Um, have I said enough? 
Really, was it too much? 

Are you stressed out? 

Don't be.

Being on the go all.the.time is not my thing. 

Our time at the school table dwindled down to being happy that math was accomplished.

And I'm pretty sure that math was done in the car a few days too. 

And I would love to say I have handled this busyness with grace, but truth is with being gone every day of the week (which is completely out of my realm) comes a filthy, out of control house. And with that comes a frantic, stressed out Momma. 

At one point I found a banana peel in the bathroom floor behind the toilet. 

I can't make this stuff up. 

Khloe's room seems to be a catch all for laundry baskets, I am ashamed to say. 

Yesterday Kohen wet 7 pairs of underwear. The same kid who hasn't had a "wet" accident in a month. 

So the next few days I'll be getting my crap back together again.

Laundry.

Cooking real food again.

School.

Spending time with that dude I call husband. 

Lord knows my bathrooms need a scrubbin'.

So Mommas. Questions. 

Do your days turn into weeks turn into months like this one? How do you get out of the funk and regain control?

 I need some words of wisdom here. 

P.S. Thank you MawMaw for my getaway to the nail salon. A mani and pedi were much needed in the midst of all this shenanigans. I love you! 

P.S.S. And a thank you to my husband who brought me home the MOST beautiful bouquet of flowers on Hearts Day. My house is filled with the smell of fresh flowers, my favorite!

You Know You're Potty Training When ...

10. You know you're potty training when your child runs around naked all.day.long. And you let him. Because for some reason you'd rather just clean up some pee off the floor than to sacrifice another pair of underwear. 

9. You know you're potty training when there is a random toilet in your living room floor. 

8. You know you're potty training when you literally stalk your toddler all day doing the hand swipe. You know the hand swipe - where you run your hand over their crotch to see if they peed in their pants. 

7. You know you're potty training when you hear the words "Mommy, I have to go potty" for the first time and feel like the heavens just opened up because dear Lord, the child can communicate now! 

6. You know you're potty training when the conversation at the dinner table includes the words, "Well, Mickey Mouse goes pee pee in the potty."

5. You know you're potty training when you let your child drink their sippy cup while on the toilet hoping the drinking will trigger them to pee. Even if it is just a little drop. 

4. You know you're potty training when you step in a wet spot and actually say out loud, "Ah well, at least it's just pee."

3. You know you're potty training when it's perfectly acceptable to teach your son to "jiggle, jiggle, jiggle" his junk. 

2. You know you're potty training when you ask every 5 minutes, "Do you need to go potty? Do you need to go potty? Do you need to go potty?" Because really, his bladder could fill up that fast. 

1. You know you're potty training when your life has resulted to dancing in the bathroom singing 

"Ah, push it - push it real good
Ah, push it - push it good
Ah, push it - push it real good

Oooh, baby, baby
Baby, baby
Oooh, baby, baby
Baby, baby"

Because seriously, who cares at this point. Might as well have some fun in the process.

Forced to Rest, Forced to Feel Better ...

Mommas are just not meant to be sick. And as I laid in the bed just about all weekend, listening to the husband practically lose his mind downstairs playing Mommy, I wondered why. Why in the world do Mommas get sick? I mean can't we have a bubble around us or something? At some point though, I heard my sweet Lord whisper in my ear, "Had I not made you rest, when would you have allowed yourself to?" 

There is so much truth in that statement. I won't speak for all of us Mommas, but as for me, I never allow myself to rest. In my restless mind, there is always, always, always something to do. Always laundry, always lessons to plan, always a kitchen to clean, always a baby to change, always a dirty toilet, always a need to vacuum. So I guess sometimes God makes that choice for me. And to Him I say thank you, thank you for the days of rest. Even if a sore throat, cough and fever were necessary to get me there. 

Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays are different than Saturdays and Sundays though. I've been forced to get out of the bed, bathe each day and be Momma again. The Hubs has school and work and the children demand to be fed three times a day. How dare them? Thank the Lord Kollin can be such a big help during weeks like these. 

School this week has been packed. Kollin and Kolt are just about to finish up their first math book. We're learning about space, specifically the Earth and Sun right now. And Kruz is cruising right along in his reading lessons. Between those and our other usuals, we have also added Mother Goose Time in our schedule for Kruz! Mother Goose Time is a preschool curriculum. Each month we get a new box that is packed full of everything you need for the theme that month. This month we are learning about the rainforest, which is really cool because the big boys are even interested! I am going to do an entire blog post really soon about Mother Goose Time, how it works and what all comes with the material. This week one of our beginning projects was making our own rainforest using pictures, tissue paper and lots and lots and lots of glue! 

Life doesn't stop. Ever. But it is important to stop and rest sometimes. I can't wait to share more about what's going on here at Nichols' Prep and more about Mother Goose Time. 

Happy Friday!

The One I Worried About ...

Kollin prayed her into this world ...

Kolt asked every single day when she would be here ...

Kruz constantly talked about all the things he would teach her ... 

Kohen? My KoKo just didn't get it. The whole baby concept. Sure, he pointed to my belly and said "baby" about a thousand times a day. Me and every other person we saw had babies in their belly. Seriously, he had no clue what was coming. 

And in all the times we have added to our family, I have never felt so guilty as I did this time around. Kohen has remained such a needy little guy. He is no hurry to be independent, no hurry to pick playing over snuggles with me, no hurry to be a Big Kid, no hurry to dress himself, no hurry to be like his Big Brothers. Lets just be real here, the kid is a Mommas's Boy, attached to my hip. There ain't no way around it.

The baby of the family always endures the most changes when a new baby comes. More than likely they'll get kicked out of their crib, their paci gets yanked from their possession and potty training will hit them like a ton of bricks. In the past, I have always been so adamant about having these jobs accomplished before a new little one arrives. Moving Kohen out of the crib and into a twin bed about killed me. In fact, after the crib had been disassembled to be refinished, I put him into a Pack-N-Play for like a month because I just couldn't stand the thought of him in such a gigantic bed. In a bed that appeared would swallow my Momma's Boy right up. As far as the paci and potty training goes, he's sucking on one right now and is wearing a diaper too. 

Baby steps. 

So last Wednesday the boys came bursting through the doors to meet their Little Sister. I was facing my worries, how was Kohen going to react to seeing his Mommy holding a baby? Kohen came in and asked for his Daddy. His Daddy. I was shocked and a little broken hearted. He hardly even acknowledged me, much less the baby. He didn't cry when it was time for him to leave us either, another thing that had plagued me for weeks - how was Kohen going to be about leaving his Mommy again? 

We came home Thursday afternoon, I came through the doors just wanting to hug him and snuggle him and he ran right passed me and reached up for Travis. The next few days were just like that, I think he was mad at me y'all. I have been preparing myself for him to scream at the sight of me holding Khloe and him trying to push her out of my arms. And I got the exact opposite, I got the cold shoulder. And it kind of made my heart ache a little. 

It wasn't until Monday, when Travis left to work, that he finally came around to me. He crawled in the bed with me that morning and we cuddled. We shared a bowl of cereal for breakfast. He reached up for me to hold him and I snatched him up so fast. 

It wasn't until Monday that he acknowledged his Baby Sister. He climbed onto the couch and started patting his lap, asking for "Baby" over and over. He held her, smiled at her, jerked her paci out, shoved it back in her mouth, "sssshhhhh"ed her when she started to cry, let her tiny fingers wrap around his and tried to pop her in the head with her bow. 

She started to fuss and Kohen rubbed her belly and then he started to sing to her. To hear his sweet little voice calm her made my cup run over. He loves her, I thought. He's not going to try to hurt her, he actually likes her. After a good ten minutes, I had to pry her away from him and it's been that way ever since Monday. Kohen asks to hold her every morning, every afternoon and every night. And if I can, I let him take her in his arms and sing to her. 

What Thirty-Five-Weeks-Pregnant-With-Four-Kids Looks Like ...

It looks like a constant messy house ...

It looks like making your kids clean a whole lot more than they used to and then you asking yourself why the heck you didn't do this sooner ... 

It looks like your toddler having major mood swings ...

It looks like morning walks become your saving grace ... 

It looks like your clothes clearly not fitting and yet you wear them anyway ... 

It looks like loads of library books, Tums and crackers for dinner ...

It looks like letting your three year old bring toys into your room after you have said over and over for him not to because well, you are picking your battles ... 

It looks like feeling like you hit the lottery when all the laundry is done ... 

It looks like eating loads and loads and loads of ice cream ... 

It looks like being crazy enough to get the office painted in your house knowing all the chaos that will come with it, but at least the walls are pretty ... 

It looks like dragging all your kids out of the house just to get a Starbucks because there are some mornings you actually need it ...

It looks like PB&Js happen every.single.day for lunch ... 

It looks like leggings are your only functioning piece in your wardrobe and your seven year old asking you why you're "so dressed up" ...

It looks like just what it sounds like. I am 35 weeks pregnant with my fifth kiddo. And life is messy and forgiving and crazy and beautiful and miserable ... 

Says the Not-So-Good-Little-Pregnant Girl ...

Y'all know the Good-Little-Pregnant-Girls I'm talking about? The ones who never, ever complain. The ones who never need a nap. The ones who cook dinner for their kids. The ones who enjoy their baby's feet torturing their rib cage. The ones who drink a gallon of water a day (and eat their fruits and veggies). The ones who get dressed every day. The ones who have the nursery done and their bags packed and a midwife in mind for delivery well before 32 weeks. 

I am trying so hard to be that Good, Little Pregnant Girl. I mean did you see my IG post this morning? Before like 7:30? I was out doing my morning walk, enjoying the sunrise. See. I am trying to be positive.

And y'all, it just ain't working. 

I am crampy and complainy and achy and ill.

I am exhausted.

I am swelled. 

I am hormonal.

I want to be a hermit.

I want to eat Doriotos and watch Dr. Phil all day.

I wish my children would just sleep or watch TV.

And my bedroom looks like the victim of a tornado.

And quite frankly, I think someone should bring me Chick Fil A, Marco's Pizza or Gezzo's when I call for it. I mean a large sweet tea would be nice at dinner time. Ya know? And a big, fat burrito loaded with cilantro, cheese and sour cream.

I'm pretty sure my husband is enjoying cutting grass in the scorching heat, being slammed with homework and having longer than usual hours at Costco. Because I am a little crazy right now. And feel like I'm dying. And he gives me no sympathy. None. No foot rubs. Nothing.

Dang it, I need some flippin' sympathy here!! Says the Not-So-Good-Little-Pregnant Girl.

And I'm pretty sure my children think I'm a fat, lazy Momma who never wants to put on regular clothes or share her Doritos. And while I am completely telling on myself, I feel like I am totally burdening them with me being pregnant. I feel like I say a thousand times a day, "In just a minute" or "Please just let me lay here". 

Daggummit, I have every right to lay on the couch all day! Says the Not-So-Good-Little-Pregnant Girl.

I am also staring at a crib that will not, I repeat will not, put itself together. Along with a shelf that won't screw itself to the wall either. And then there's my husband who is worried about finishing a dang clubhouse in the backyard and pressure washing the deck.

Oh! The audacity that man has!! Says the Not-So-Good-Little-Pregnant Girl.

Eight more weeks.

Technically, seven weeks and three days. But who's counting?

With the way these hormones are lookin', I could be blogging tonight about all the joys that come from being pregnant. Who the heck knows.

Until then ...