Christmas Cards- the Outtakes.

We went to the local mall to take pictures for our Christmas cards.


They went... as expected.

Lily tried to steel Logan's candy cane.

We* couldn't get them both to look at the camera

*my Mom and I

They both found interesting "things" on the ground.

But they're still stinkin' cute.

If I do say so myself.

Out of 146 photos-

We only got one good one.

But we got some relief

at dinner.

and the Second One gets that shaft.

Lily is such an awesome baby- for the most part. She has her moments (and her days) that make me wonder "we planned this one, right?".

But all-in-all she's a great young lady, and the perfect second child. She rolls with the punches (sometimes literally) and goes with the flow. But while I was feeding her a nutritious breakfast of graham crackers and organic puffs, I got to thinking...

With my first I did everything "by the book":

• He ate only jarred foods (which, at the time, I thought was best)
• He was on a very strict sleeping and eating schedule
• His bed sheets were changed EVERYDAY (a little OCD on my part I know)
• He played with the safest, most up to date toys (although he would have been happy with a twig- or a phone... go figure)
• He was changed often, always had his face wiped, and his clothes never had a stain or mark on them. If they did, his clothes were promptly changed, and the stain treated.
• He was only exposed to Baby Einstein on DVD

Not to mention I:

• Cleaned the whole house- top to bottom everyday
• Did laundry everyday
• Exposed Logan to friends, play dates, and "outings" often
• Wiped down his toys with Clorox wipes, and made sure if his cup hit the floor it would be properly washed (I always had a back up)
• Wiped the cart, restaurant high chairs, and tables. If his hand so much as grazed any of those things- it was wiped too
• My diaper bag was sufficiently packed with everything I might need- and I had a back up in my car

With my second child, most of that junk went out the window. I don't have a rigid schedule, my house is nowhere near that clean- seriously- her sheets get changed once every week (or two- hanging my head in shame), I rarely bring a diaper bag let alone a well stocked one, I forget to bring food with me so we resort to pancakes (something I NEVER would have given Logan before his first birthday), she's never ridden in a grocery cart, I always "wear" her, I can't remember the last time I wiped her toys, she's never had an official "play date", and she watches Nick Jr.

Please don't call CPS on me- I'll put a Baby Einstein on today.

the Message in the mess

... of Christmas that is.


I am blessed beyond belief, and yet suffer from the "manys".

• Many months of planning
• Many decorations
• Many hours shopping
• Many dollars spent
• Many hours thinking about/worrying about presents
• Many hours of thinking about lights (yes I'm guilty of that)
• Many outfits (I'm guilty of that, too)
• Many gifts bought
• Many.. many.. many...

God, however gave us the BEST gift since creation. The indescribable gift of Life and Love: Jesus.

I'd like to take a moment and share a story with you.

One cold and dark night shepherds were chilling in their robes working in the fields. If had been four hundred years since the world had heard from God- no prophets, no burning bushes, noth-ing.

And all of a sudden an Angel of Lord appears from the sky. (this is how I envision it- the Bible doesn't go into detail- so I will only know the ACTUAL visual in eternity) The field was black, and I don't think the angel snuck up on them looking like just another shepard in a robe- I'm thinking the field light up with the awesome power of God- and the angel of Lord said "Do not be afraid..." And the shepards, trembling in their sandals, were thinking "don't be afraid- where did you come from? My family and I have been working this field for years, nothing OR NO ONE has ever stepped foot out here with out us knowing about it. And you tell me not to be afraid."

"...I bring you good tidings joy, for all the people of the world. For unto you is born this day, in the city of Bethlehem, a Savior who is Christ the Lord."

And the shepards all agreed, they would travel to see Him. They wanted to witness this awesome miracle that God had told them about.

Meanwhile, after traveling out of their home town, a young couple (Mary was an estimated 13is) were looking for a place to stay. It was cold, they had been walking for days and all they needed was a warm place to rest their heads.

"Sorry we're full"
"Sorry we're full"
"Sorry we're full"
"Sorry we're full"
"Sorry we're full"
"Sorry we're full, but we have this cave (yes a manger was a cave) where all the animals live. You can stay there."

Now think about that. Would you like to crawl into you're dogs kennel and sleep? Or cuddle up next to your kitty's litter box and take a nap- I'm thinking no.

So Mary (I imagine) starts praying:"Lord, I trust You. You have given me the Light of World. Please, Lord God, let me carry Him for a couple more nights."

Just then, her water breaks.

And here He comes. Hours of labor (again, this is what I envision- the Word doesn't go into the details of labor), the smell of poop, animal hair in the eye and one brave girl and her betrothed waiting for the most precious gift. Joesph was trying the keep the donkey out of Mary's face, while Mary was screaming out to God saying "Why, O God, did you choose me?"

Then out of darkness, after the morning sicknesses, the stretch marks, the sleepless nights, the leg cramps, the hemorrhoids, the varicose veins, the swollen feet, the pushing, the screaming, and the bleeding came the soft cry of a baby boy. He could have come with winds stronger than a hurricane. He could have come with all the power and might of a typhoon. But He came like a soft winter snow.

Wrapped in some dirty old rags, God presented the most beautiful gift- Jesus.

He didn't come wrapped in the finest linen, or foiled paper with gorgeous bow. He was presented lying next to animal hair and poop, wrapped in old clothes.

Here's me on the birthday of both my kids. Defiantly not as dirty as a manger would be.

Thank You Lord for the most precious gift of all mankind. Thank You O God, for giving us Your Son- 100% man, 100% God. Open our hearts, Father. Teach us Your way.

I've thought a lot about Mary over the past few months (and in turn, a lot about the young Jesus). As I sit up at night and rock (or glide) my baby girl, I wonder "Did Jesus pull Mary's hair, too?" I think He did. I wonder while tucking my son into bed at night "Did Jesus like to run around the house with His brothers screaming in joy (all the while minding His parents, of course)?" I think He did that, too.

And that friends, is the true gift this holiday. The gift of Hope. The gift of Love.

Christmas is not about the magic- but the Miracle.

He's heard my cry. He knows my pain. He knows my fears. He knows me. And I know Him. And sharing His love is the best gift I could give.

So this Christmas- I'm not getting caught up in the mess. I'm getting caught up in the Message. Christ is here- my chains are gone, I've been set free.

Logan's One Month Evaluation

**I couldn't get pictures to upload- check back for photos**

On Friday we had Logan's one month Therapeutic Pre School Evaluation.

Every month the psychiatrist makes a home visit to discuss Logan's progress. This was our first evaluation- and I was eager to hear how he's been doing in school.

She said he's been doing really well riding the bus, following directions, and not being anxious. I was pleasantly surprised! She said he hasn't demonstrated anxiety characteristics in a while- and I was thrilled!!

She also mentioned that she and him have a special bond, and he lights up when he sees her. She said she loved working with him, and looks forward to watching him grow.


She said the areas he needs to work on are:

• Touching/throwing sand. This is one of his (many) sensory issues. He likes to feel the sand running through his fingers. She said he gets so fixated that they (his teachers) have to make it "off limits" some days.
• Touching other people. Logan will "pet" other people to feel their clothes, or body. The other kids don't like it- so he needs to work on keeping his hands to himsef.
• Pooping on the potty.
  
• Talking about the phone.
• Doing "The Claw" (he claws his hand at inappropriate times)
  

She gave me some more social stories* to read to him every night on:

• Eating too fast (I know, I was shocked too!)
• Chewing with your mouth closed
  
• Not interrupting
  
• Completing a request
• Getting the attention of others
• Hearing "No"
• Making a request
• Using a napkin (he uses his shirt-hehehehe)
• Showing affection
• Shutting the bathroom door

*A social story is a short story that gives children simple explanations to everyday tasks. Example: Little boys go to school./Little boys ride on the bus to school./Little boys stay seated on the bus./Little boys get off the bus./Little boys line up for class./Little boys go to school./Logan's going to school.

I know this seems trivial, but she used the term "next year". I guess he won't be graduating to "regular" preschool next year. Oh well, maybe kindergarten.

The Giving Tree

**Warning: This post contains raw, real emotions. I'd like to preface this with how much I love being a Mom. How I dreamed of having a child, and how I am thankful to God everyday for blessing me with two beautiful children, perfect in His image. I know many people struggle with infertility, or loss of a child and make no mistake, I pray for those people out there everyday. I know how blessed I am to have my kids on this side of eternity- and I'm thankful.

That said- Let the rant ensue.

There are days where I feel sorry for myself, and today is one of those days.

I try very hard to have a cheery, light hearted, optimistic spirit- most of the time. But today, I just want to complain.

Everyday I give and give and give and give and give, and explain, and give, and explain, and give and give. And then when the house is finally quiet, and the last potty break is over, and the last cup of water has been drank- I give some more.

Don't get me wrong, I love being a Mom, but on days like this I find myself asking: why me?

Why is it I can't walk into a store without talking about a phone. I would love to go to a store and not talk about a freaking phone. On that note, I would love to go ONE DAY without "pretending" to talk on the phone. You know what- I WOULD LOVE TO NOT SEE A PHONE FOR ONE DAY. That, friends, would be a good day.

I would love not to hear an absolutley, horrific, ear piercing screeching whale come out of my son's mouth. I would love to not hear it at bed time.

What did I do to deserve this? Why do I have to constantly explain explain explain why we can or can't do something. I would love to go one day with out having to worry about my son having a panic attack.

I would love to go one day without thinking about, worrying about, or talking about sensory issues. I would love not to worry about the volume of something, or the feeling (the physical feeling) of something. That would be AWESOME.

I would love not to worry about my son's future issues. Wondering what his OCD fixation will be when he's 15. It probubly won't be phones- so what? What will it be?

I would love to not think about poop. I would love for Logan to GO POOP.

I would love if my daughter was no longer teething. I would love for all those little boogers to pop right through, with no pain-therefore no crying.

I never asked for this. As a child, I never sat back and thought "Oh, I can't wait to grow up, get married, and have a baby boy with special needs."

I absolutely, undoubtedly love my son, but sometimes I just wish he was..."typical".

I would love to have a husband that worked normal hours, at a job he loved so I didn't have to put the kids to bed- all-by-my-self 5 nights a week.

I would have loved him to not go to that meeting last night- and I hope he doesn't go tonight.

I would love to shower, shave and go to the bathroom without an interruption.

And finally I would love a vacation- scratch that- I would love a night off.

Rant. Over.

Filters

Sometimes I believe the Holy Spirit works through you when you least expected it.

Today, while I was visiting a new superstore (which was awesome minus this incident) Logan got confused and began to have one of his "mini meltdowns"- which includes screaming.

~For those of you who know my son, you know his screaming is very loud, very high pitched, and honestly very uncomfortable.

I held his hand and walked down the main grocery isle to grab the last thing I needed for dinner so we could check out and head home. It was as if a spot light was on me. People were coming out of the isles to see what was going on. No exaggeration, there were at least 40 people turned and looked at me and my sweet boy. Now, that being said, it was 30-45 seconds of excruciatingly loud uncomfortable screaming (which I'm used to) so I can understand why people were looking. But what they don't understand was this was not a "typical" child "I want that toy I can't have" tantrum. This was a little boy having an anxiety attack because he didn't understand something. I can't imagine how scary it must feel for him to feel trapped in his own world of fear and worry.

Anyway, while I was quickly grabing the thing I needed an old crotchy lady leaned over a very sternly said "Young man, you need to mind your manners while your...".

Before I could even think of what to say I threw him behind me (as if to physically protect him from the verbal daggers she was throwing at him) and said "Listen, lady, he has special needs."

And she looked at me with a stone cold look as I walked briskly away.

By the time I got back to the produce section, Logan had calmed down, but I was in tears. I thought of all the things I "should have said". I think the Holy Spirit was my filter at that moment.

So, for those of you who were at that superstore on this day and this time, I'm sorry. And for those of you who may encounter a screaming child in a superstore, before giving dirty looks or even saying a nasty comment* please think twice.

*I know most people would never do that, but everyone has weak moments-I'm sure back in my day I would have given "the look". There were some (few, but some) friendly faces that looked at me with sadness-as if they were saying "I've been there".

The Rumors are True

Every year, on August 9 (the day after my birthday) I put out all my fall decorations. I absolutely, with out a doubt LOVE the Holidays and it kicks off with my birthday!

I put out pumpkins, scarecrows and anything "harvesty"-usually.

This year was different, though. I was tired. I have two young kids, one with special needs and one breastfeeding and I thought napping was more important then decorating...

So, because I usually get three whole months of fall, and Christmas gets a measly 35(ish) days (if you decorate the day after Thanksgiving) that I would decorate for Christmas early-a whole month early!!

On November 5, we decorated the entire inside of our house! Logan and Lily love the lights on the tree and all the animated Christmas stuffed animals. And Logan had a blast hanging the ornaments on the tree this year. I just love being able to enjoy all the beautiful decorations I've collected over the years.

This weekend we'll be working outside decor! Can't wait to give hubby the good news :)