The Bush Years

I've been incredibly reminiscent this week and on the verge of feeling crazy. I know, how is that different from any other week with me? When did I turn into such a basket case?

It all started several weeks ago when I got this invitation in the mail:

For some odd reason, not for one second did I even entertain the notion of going. I blamed it on my circumstances and current role in life and simply thought "Too bad I can't go."

That was that and I was okay with it.

A week or so later, an old friend and former White House co-worker called to wish me a happy birthday. She mentioned the event and remarked, "You're going, right?"

I think I said something like "Pssshhh. Yeah right. I can't go to those types of things anymore. That was in my past. I'm a mom now. I have responsibilities. I can't just leave my kids."

She responded that I should just bring them along, to which I responded "That's not an option. Brian couldn't come and who would watch them in Dallas?"

At that point, I still was okay with not going. I still thought it was weird to even consider it.

Initially, in my mind, it was the hard core, senior staffers, or those staffers with mega political/Bush connections who would be going. But not me. I was just a lowly junior staffer. People like me would probably not be going. 

And then lo and behold, one by one, I learned that all my friends and former co-workers, and basically every former White House staffer but me, were going. Even the ones who had been in my lowly position. Even the ones who now had kids. ALL of them would be there. And I would not.

That was the turning point.

Suddenly it wasn't okay anymore.

Suddenly I wondered why I had dismissed it all so quickly. Why had I automatically assumed I couldn't go? I felt an overwhelming homesickness for my former life and former career. I wanted to be there with all my old friends more than anything. I wanted to be surrounded by all that political greatness, the American history, the perks of working for the president, just to sit with old friends and reminisce about the good old days. I really miss that whole atmosphere I used to breath 12+ hours a day. The urge to be part of it was so overwhelming it hurt.

I was so mad at myself for planning so poorly, for my once ambitious and go-getter mind having turned to mush for not thinking it was okay to allow myself to do such things anymore. I'm still not sure who would have watched my kids or how I would have worked out all the details, but I would have liked to have given myself the chance to at least try.

I broke down and cried for awhile yesterday and then called my sister, the one person who I was sure would understand. She didn't answer. So I cried some more and then was mad at myself for crying and told myself to get over it.

When my sister finally called me back last night, I thought I had come to terms with it all. I had even looked up plane tickets, but they were way out of my price range at that late in the game. I had no other choice but to be okay with not going. But when I heard my sister's voice and started telling her why I'd called in the first place, I lost it again. But you know what made it all okay? She broke down with me. She didn't tell me I was dumb for feeling that way, or criticize me for not figuring out a way to make it happen (although she did state what should have been obvious to me, "Britt, when you get invited to something by a former president, you just go.") She let me vent and told me I was validated for feeling how I felt. She told me that even though we knew getting married and starting a family were the right things to do, that it was okay to miss our old jobs/lives sometimes, too. Most important, she told me it was okay to feel the way I did. I didn't have to feel guilty about it just because I'm now a mom. It's okay to miss the past sometimes (as long as you don't get stuck there). 

So, by no ones fault but my own, I may very well be the only former Bush staffer not in Dallas tomorrow. Actually, there are a couple others not going, but only because they are off fighting in Afghanistan. So while they're doing that, I'll be fighting my own battles with my three-year-old, and trying to watch it all on TV. I will hear about it afterward from friends. I'll see their pictures on Facebook and Instagram. And I will have to be okay with it. And that is okay.

Updates

Insanity. Dang. It was hard, hard, hard. I could not have done it without Brian there pushing me every day. As hard as it was, we finished and I'm quite pleased and shocked with myself for carrying through with a workout like that, or any work out for that matter. The results? I do not look or feel like one of those before/after cases on TV. I don't have a six pack, and in fact, I may have only lost a pound or so. But, what I am happy with is that I toned up a bit and feel like I am in much better shape. That made it worth it to me. I'll probably try round two of it later this year. As for now, I have started doing Jillian Michael's 30 Day Shred, which seems like a piece of cake after Insanity.

James' crazy sleep habits are finally improving. And after my last whine-fest of a post, I realize as much as sleep deprivation stinks, life could be a lot worse. I am thankful I have kids at all, even if they torture me with their nighttime antics.

Last week James was being a bit too crazy around bedtime. He was also trying to be a cute brother and make his sister laugh by running back and forth across the living room and then diving across the floor. Well, on one such dive attempt, he got a little too close to the fireplace mantel. Poor kid got one heck of a goose egg on his head. It changes colors daily.

Livy is finally talking a little bit more. New words this week include: shoes and uh-oh.

The weather has reached the 80s here in Knoxville. We finally turned on the A/C this week. Park time is back. Oh how we've missed it. Livy is loving it. Her newest thing is to bring me her shoes and point to the door.

I hate cars. I guess I just hate when they don't work and it costs an arm and a leg to fix a part you didn't even know existed.

Couponing. I used to be so good at it and felt great at the massive amounts of money we were saving on groceries each week. I still try to do it but am not anywhere near as obsessive about it as I used to be. I've still been getting awesome deals on random things though. I'll have to do a separate post on my favorites.

My sister-in-law found an old book at her parents house called The Art of Homemaking. I started reading it as a joke. It was written in the 1960s and, although parts of it are quite humorous, I've never read anything more sexist or old-fashioned. But parts of it are actually really, really good, like life-changing good for this slightly feminist girl who hates cleaning her house/feeling like a maid, etc. It has led me to a new way of thinking and helped me develop a better attitude about it at least.

We've made these several times in the last few months. They are way easy and sooo much better than a boxed mix.

We broke down and bought season passes to Dollywood. Since we plan on being in Knoxville all summer, we figured we may as well have something fun to do here. We went for the first time last week. James and Livy both loved it. It was way more kid/family friendly than I expected. Definitely red-neck though, which was fully expected. Should be a fun summer!

Head on Over...

Ever try Kerrygold products? They're an awesome Irish dairy company that makes amazing cheese. We're doing a little giveaway over at Just Cook Already, so check it out for some free cheese or butter and an awesome cookbook:

http://www.just-cook-already.com/2013/04/giveaway.html

Ode to Sleepless Nights (or Woe Is Me)

For the second day in a row, I have a massive headache. You know it's going to be a long day when you wake up with one. Usually my remedy for any type of headache is sleep, but when your three-year-old wakes up two to three times (sometimes more) every night screaming bloody murder for 13 days straight and counting, and often refusing to go back to sleep, waking up every one in the process, you don't get enough sleep to remedy anything.

I am so tired. And cranky. And impatient. And overly-emotional. And every other negative quality a mother should not possess. 

All I want is for my boy to go back to sleeping normally.

The cruel irony of all this is that Livy actually started sleeping better finally. I could have finally been on the road to much needed rest (I haven't had a full nights sleep since I found out I was pregnant with her, a two year anniversary coming up in a couple months).

It all started when we got home from our three-week long trip last month. The first couple times he woke up screaming I just thought it was a fluke (he does it every now and then). But when he did it for three days straight, I knew we had a problem. It has continued ever since.

I tried being super sweet and sensitive to any fears he might have, tried reasoning with him, tried talking it out, etc. When that didn't work, the impatience kicked in and I got mean and yelled and threatened and ignored. Not surprising, that didn't work either. And then I just felt like a terrible mother.

I tried putting him to bed super early, tried reinstating naps, which only made it worse because most days he w/couldn't fall asleep and it just made both of us crankier.

I tried researching the issue to find solutions. So not helpful.

I prayed. But I was so tired and cranky I didn't feel like I was even in a position to receive any promptings that could possibly come. But I'm still trying. 

I finally broke down and have been an emotional wreck this entire week (I almost lost it at church when Brian got stuck at work, leaving my sleep-deprived self alone to handle two cranky kids on Easter Sunday. I really couldn't handle it and it was only exacerbated by the fact that we were sitting right behind a family who had two sets of grandparents with them and an aunt and uncle or two. I have really been missing family this week. Oh, and then James refused to go to his primary class. Something he has never done before. I wanted to scream and cry and go into a coma all at once).

I am in dire need of a night alone at a hotel. Or a real vacation without kids (something that has never happened). Or both. Too bad neither is a possibility. Brian is back to his crazy 5 a.m. start days (last night didn't get home until after 1 a.m.), so we're all walking around with bags under our eyes around here.

I'm so tired that I'm not even sure what the point is of all this except it has been floating around in my head all morning and I wanted to get it out.

So if someone could send some help my way, I will take it in the form of prayers, advice, a full-time nanny, or even brownies.

Until then, this little gem kind of made me feel better (but also made me cry) last night:

Now I'm off to take some tylonel for that headache, and to try and find a positive attitude, because I just know there is a lesson somewhere here for me.

My Baby...

 

Turned ONE last week!

 

It was a super crazy day filled with a gazillion (at least) last minute wedding reception preparations for my sister-in-law. So we didn't get to have a party for her, watch her stuff her face with cake, sing to her, or any of those memorable first birthday things.

 

Obviously, she didn't know or care, but it still totally broke my heart that we couldn't devote more of the day just for celebrating her. What made me the most sad was that every time a special day rolls around for us we are always without any family, so that is all I wish for. This time, however, we were actually with tons of family and we still didn't get to do anything special for her. Can you tell I was totally bummed about this? Sorry little girl. I'll make it up to you some how.

 

Here's some fun pics of the birthday girl that totally capture her sweet personality . . .

(In the tub at my parent's house.)

 (On our way to Ashley's wedding reception. I am in dire need of a major haircut.)

(She still will eat just about anything. How do I keep her doing this and stop her from turning out like her brother?)

 

At one, Livy totally melts my heart on a daily basis. Probably because she loves me more than anyone and gives me a hundred hugs a day and breaks into a smile whenever she sees me. She no longer looks just like her brother--she has turned into her own little person. I am in awe daily at how beautiful she is. Her sleep is slowly improving (knock on wood). She is a great napper (two a day, usually two hours each) and is developing quite the sense of humor. We sure love her.

Speaking of Growing Up . . .

As if James isn't growing up too fast, his little sister is quickly heading down the same road.

She'll be a year old next month. I wish I could say this year sped by, but with how little sleep I've had, it has actually been one long year. Regardless, I sure love this girl.

She's starting to talk a little more. She can now say "Mom," "Dad," and "More." I can't wait for the day she says "James." She also signs "more" which is super cute. She still loves food. Every time we go to the grocery store she signs "more" every aisle we turn down. It's kind of funny.

She started officially walking last month. She'll only crawl now if she's super tired, which is a lot these days. The poor girl has been so sick. We've had two trips to the doctor in the last 48 hours. She got the horrible runny nose we've all had but to top it off she also caught a nasty infant virus (Roseola?). She had a terribly high fever (up to 103.7 one night), earaches, a sore throat, a cough and today developed a rash. Poor kid. Just in time for us to leave town for three weeks. Awesome.

All I have to say is thank goodness for tylonel. It saved us. She has been waking up every two hours the last few nights, but without the meds I don't know if she would have slept at all. She was so uncomfortable I was usually up half the night just rocking her little fevered body. She totally broke my heart.

Here's to a better March and no more sickness/doctor's visits! We'll be in Utah most of the month for Brian's sisters weddings. I'm excited to be there but not excited for the additional lack of sleep that usually comes with vacations!

My Rascal

My little boy is growing up way too fast. Brian and I were just discussing how much he is changing in every way. He's definitely more independent and his thought process, and therefore conversation, is totally evolving. Here are some funny tidbits that have come out of his mouth recently:

 (I found this picture on my phone today. He loves taking pictures of himself.)

I've started trying to teach him about history a little more. Mostly random things. For instance, since he loves boats, the other day we discussed the Titanic. This week we just so happened to be driving through Pigeon Forge (a way touristy area here near the Smoky Mountains) where there is a Titanic Museum. The museum's exterior was designed to look like the Titanic, including depicting it ramming into a giant iceberg. So, we pointed it out to James as we drove past. It struck his little brain as amazing and he wanted to talk about it the whole way home. Last night as he was saying his bedtime prayer, it went like this, "Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for this day, we ask thee to bless us, and please bless the ship that ran into the iceberg." We've been trying to teach him to personalize his prayers a little more, and well, there you have it.

Today during quiet time I told James he could watch 101 Dalmations because Livy has been sick and not sleeping well and I knew a movie would ensure James actually would stay quiet. We haven't watched it in months and just as I was starting it he told me that his favorite part was "where the bad guy gets his bum burned by the fire." There is, indeed, a part where Jasper gets his rear-end burned, but I never would have remembered it or thought James would have either so I mentioned that fact to him, that I was surprised he remembered that part. etc. He then asked, "How did I remember that?" and I replied, "I don't know, buddy, probably because you have a good memory." I guess he was expecting another answer because a second later he asked, "Did the Holy Ghost help me to remember that part?" I had to think for a second how to respond to that one. Try explaining to a three-year-old that the Holy Ghost probably doesn't care if he remembers parts of a movie.

A couple nights ago I was giving him a bath. We've all had runny noses the last couple weeks (it just won't end) and so I'm constantly telling James to go get a tissue to wipe his nose. Toward the end of his bath his nose was starting to run and he slyly said "Mom, turn away. Cover your eyes for a minute." I very casually covered my eyes, of course watching to see what he didn't want me seeing.
He then grabbed one of the foam alphabet letters he'd been playing with in the tub, wiped his nose with it and then threw it behind his back. Seriously, kid? So gross (but also kinda funny)! We had a little chat about that and I made him scrub it with soap afterward.

The other day I was chasing James (probably trying to get his pajamas on) through the house and he yelled "You can't catch me! I'm the speediest guy you ever saw!"

James and I have our good days and bad days together. There are definitely days where he is a total rascal and pushes all my buttons or days when I am just so tired that I have no patience, even when he's probably not being that bad. A couple weeks ago we were having a really good day together, both of us were in a good mood, I hadn't yelled or had to send him to his room, etc., and as I snuggled with him on the couch to read a story he took my face in his hands and said "Mommy, I love you," then he kissed my hand and said "Good job being a nice mommy today!" I was overcome with a mixture of both love and guilt by that comment. It was a nice reminder that I have a lot to work on as a mother.

Last Sunday, Elder Dallin H. Oaks, of the Quorum of the Twelve, came to meet with our stake. It was a huge deal here because apostles don't come here often. It reminded me how much I took for granted growing up in Utah. He was scheduled to speak at 10 on Sunday but by 8 a.m. the chapel was already full. Crazy! Luckily we got there early enough to sit at the front part of the overflow. Elder Oaks showed up at 9 and went around and shook nearly every person's hand. I was in awe at his generosity (especially compared to an experience we had with another apostle a few years ago who didn't seem so excited that anyone wanted to meet him) and kindness, etc. I tried to explain to James what this meeting was all about and who was coming, etc., but he didn't seem interested so much. Even when Elder Oaks was shaking his hand, I could tell he had no idea what was going on or how special the man shaking his hand was, but it still made me a little emotional that my sweet little boy was shaking an apostle's hand. It reminded me of Jesus' love for little children and for the capacity that children have to love. Even though James probably won't remember that moment, I always will.

I sure love this kid.