Ponytails & Chocolate Milk

All 3 of my chickies are under one roof tonight. Thank you Lord. :) 

As I sit here in the quiet listening to the dishwasher hum, the crickets singing outside, and 2 out of 3 of my dogs snoring, I am thankful. This time of night is my favorite.

Earlier today I picked up my big kids from a week long river trip with their Oma. It was great being back together. We played and laughed, and Cheyenne poked at the kids the whole 2 hour ride home. She was so happy to see them.

On the way home we picked up Whataburger and I ordered Cheyenne a chocolate milk. She normally drinks regular milk at home (warmed up for about 30 seconds, yes she is a bit spoiled). 

Wyatt was shocked that I ordered it for her, I said well I want to let her try something a little different today. He said wow she is going to be like me now! ( He loves his chocolate milk extra cold, shaken very well.) 

We didn't discuss more after that, we just got home, unpacked, and were enjoying being back home. 

Daddy got home and we decided to head out for FroYo after dinner. Cheyenne had been playing outside and her hair looked so hot stuck against her neck. So I grabbed a tiny little ponytail holder and managed to get her hair up into a ponytail. 

Is that not the cutest?!

These next 2 pictures PERFECTLY sum up just how she feels about said ponytail.

OH the drama. If she could speak she would say Get. It. Out.
I just crack up so much over that little personality.

Both the kids looked at her and ooohhh-ed and ahhh-ed over it, but it was Wyatt's reaction that stood out the most to me.

Momma, I almost forgot about Cheyenne at the river.

What?

She is just so different now!

What do you mean buddy?

She is just GROWED. 

We went to the river and now I came back and she is growed. 

She has a ponytail in her hair, and she is drinking chocolate milk. 

I had to keep from laughing, only because I know his feelings. 

One day they are babies, the next they are "growed".
He has always had such a tender heart, and I know he is going to be a great Daddy one day.

My heart is so happy to have all of my babies together, and growed or not, they will always be my babies. <3 nbsp="" p="">

Socks In The Drawer

This morning was a little rough. 

I woke up late, after a long night, and a few interruptions of sleep with the baby. 

There was ICE in Texas. My windshield was covered in it. 

We were running late getting the big kids to school. 

Taylor needed help with her shoelace that was stuck, Wyatt needed help with his jacket sleeve that was inside out. Cheyenne was crying, impatiently waiting for her milk. All within the 5 minutes that we needed to head out the door. 

I had the big kids situated and was changing Cheyenne's diaper when Wyatt came in and said "Momma..." And I admit, I snapped back at him. "What?!" I felt frustrated and tired, and pulled in 100 directions already and it was only 7:30. What could he possibly need now... 

"Thank you for putting my clean socks in my drawer."

My heart instantly melted. All of my unnecessary stressing just left in that moment. God was using my little 6 year old sweet-hearted boy, to speak to me. 

All I could say was "Thank you sweet boy. You are very welcome."

Quick side note on the laundry situation in our house. I can wash and dry clothes like my life depends on it. I can even sort them into prospective piles. Towels and sheets have a basket, regular clothes have a basket. The kids even are old enough now to help me sort everyone's own pile. The part that falls behind for me is the PUTTING AWAY part. We have piles everywhere. On top of the dryer, at the foot of the beds, on the couch.... Usually if someone comes to me and says - have you seen my __________(insert clothing item here)? I answer with... Have you checked the pile? My kids and husband are all gracious enough to not complain, they just go to digging. 

I am working on better execution of this whole laundry putting away business, but it's a work in progress. There are those days though, (like yesterday), when I get the clothes all folded, and actually put in their rightful place. And the couple of days that follow afterwards are AMAZING! I never have anyone comment on it though, until this morning. 

My sweet boy showed me wisdom and grace beyond his years. He showed me how to be thankful for the little things. He showed me how to show kindness and thankfulness even in the small moments. 

So today I am thankful for a warm house, and to be able to be home with my baby to enjoy it. I look forward to picking up my big kids from school in a couple of hours, and spending the weekend at home with my family. 

Life With A 5 Year Old Big Brother

This morning Wyatt woke up and came into the living room where I was feeding Cheyenne. He is usually my first one up, and I enjoy the chats that we have on the couch just him, me, and the baby. He usually talks about a dream he had, or talks about how Cheyenne is growing. 

I was done feeding Cheyenne, and she was up on my shoulder burping. Wyatt asked if he could hold her. I said sure let me make sure she burps first and then you can have her. 

Usually I check with him to wash his hands, and I guess he was anticipating that, because he beat me to the punch with a hilarious statement.

"Since I just woke up, I don't need to wash hands."
I said ok...
He continues on to say
"Ya, as long as you just wake up and haven't gone outside, and you haven't picked your nose, then it's fine to hold the baby..."

And there you have it. 

If you haven't picked your nose this morning, you are welcome to hold my baby. :-D

In all seriousness, look at them. So much love in that sweet boy's heart. I am truly thankful.

"I Love You Cheyenne"

So, it has been a LONG while since my last post. A very long while. However, I stumbled across a few posts that popped up on my "Facebook memories" and it made me miss writing. I miss journaling about the kids, and I really want to slow down a little to notice and remember different things that are going on. 

I say I want to slow things down as we are about to welcome our third little one, ha! We will see if I can keep up with blogging with a newborn in tow. :) She is part of the inspiration TO slow down though. I don't want to rush through life and miss it. Does anyone relate?

I have a few things I am changing up with the layout and the design of the blog, but if I keep waiting until it is "ready" I might not ever get a post out. So bear with me, as I will be making a few changes to it in the upcoming weeks! 

This picture right here is where I want this year's blogging to start.

This moment captures an entire 9 months of a story to tell. 

Wyatt placing his little hand on my belly and saying "I love you Cheyenne."

My heart melts. Both the kids have been so excited for the new baby. Taylor is thrilled to have a little sister that she can share her clothes with, and play dolls and barbies and princesses with. 

Wyatt is excited too, but he expresses it in a totally different way. When you talk about Cheyenne he gets this grin on his face, beaming ear to ear. He puts his hand on my belly and tries to figure out exactly which way she is laying. In the mornings before school he gives me a hug first, and then always gives Cheyenne a hug. He tells me "you take care of that baby while I am at school." 

I always knew I wanted to have my kids close in age so that they could grow up together and experience the same things at the same time. I honestly worried a little about having a bigger age gap between them and Cheyenne. But I will say having them a little older now, watching them throughout this whole pregnancy has made me so grateful and happy. They are so involved and I love that they get to really understand what is happening. God is so good, and I cannot wait to see them get to meet her for the first time. All of us for that matter. :) 

Dear Two Year Old Wyatt...

My Sweet Boy, 

You just turned two and I am still blinking my eyes wondering where the time went. It seems like yesterday I was holding your tiny (9 lb 12 oz) body in my arms, wrapped up in a cotton receiving blanket, and barely fitting into a newborn onesie. OK, so in terms of newborns, perhaps tiny is not the word to describe it, but you will always be little in my eyes. 

You are so full of life and at such a fun age. I love your little independent voice telling me "I do it, I do it" for every little thing, like climbing stairs, getting into your carseat, or using your own fork and spoon. It makes me sad and happy all at the same time.

(You are even adorable when you tell me that you don't want your picture taken) 

I love that you get so excited to see your favorite things...Like how the world stands still for a minute so that we can watch a tractor drive by.
Or how your face lights up when Taylor or Coco come into the room.

Or how you run screaming at the door that Daddy is home (and fall to tears if he is leaving).
I love when you tell me your juice is "gol gone" and when you find something you say "air it is!"
 I love that when you hear "Life Is A Highway" you scream CARS, and can watch the movie every day just like its the first time you've seen it.

I love that when we walk through a parking lot, you would rather hold Taylor's hand and form a train, then for me to carry you. (even though it makes me sad that I can't hold you like a baby...)

When I found out I was having a boy, a lot of people had many things to tell me about what it would be like to have a boy, how much of an adventure it would be. And let me tell you sweet baby, it has been the best adventure. You love your tractors, trains, and cars. 

You are energetic and fearless. 

You refuse to wear your floaties in the pool, and would rather just dive right in. 

You jump off the furniture, pull the dogs tail, and love to smash bugs on the porch.

You love to go play in the dirt and chase frogs with Coco.

You are ALL boy.

Yes, everyone told me all about the rough and tumble lifestyle I was about to take on, but one thing that they didn't tell me was the chance that the rough and tumble boy, would have an incredibly soft and loving heart for his momma.

When you are older and reading this I know that you will not like to be labeled a "momma's boy" but that is just the way it is. And I love it.

No matter what way you say it, whether you are crying "mommmmmaaaaa" or "mommy, mommy, mommy" or "MOM-MA!" I will always answer. 

The other day we were at the pool and you saw a bee in the water, and you grabbed my leg to push me back away from the edge and said "momma, atch out" 

Sweet boy, you know how to melt your momma's heart. 

You are only two years old, and your sweet protective innocence just overwhelms me with love and thankfulness. I could not have prayed for a better son. I love you always my sweet boy. Happy 2nd Birthday. :)

Love, Momma

Dear 16 Month Old Wyatt...

My sweet Wyatt, 

As of Friday, you are officially 16 months old.  

You are the sweetest, most loving boy, and continually bless us each and every day. 

You are running around all the time, and would prefer to stay outside all day if I would let you. 

The weather just turned a bit cooler, and we have some beautiful evenings to play outside. It's momma's favorite time of day.

You love to run and play in the backyard, in the sandbox, and on the swing set.

I cannot keep shoes on you. 

Your sister is your best friend. 

Whatever she is doing you like to be right there with her. 

You just recently have taken an interest in books. Taylor is beginning to learn most of her letters, so she loves to show you books and teach you what she knows. 

You are starting to talk more. 

You say momma, dada, ball, milk, night night, sister, more, ow-side, deer, and my favorite: what's that :) you also say "mi" for mimi, you can say oma, ba ba for ba paw, and am-ma for the great grandmas. When it is time to brush your teeth, ((which you love by the way)) you say teeth-teeth and start grinning.

You like to jabber a lot of other words as well, and I just nod my head and pretend to understand what you are saying. :) 

You love to blow kisses, and you have the most adorable wave to say bye bye.

You just spent a weekend at your Oma's house, and you love to be there with all your cousins. You and your cousin Cassidy are only 7 months apart and she loves you to pieces. 

Sometimes you can be a bit of a momma's boy, but I am not complaining. :) Cuddles are hard to come by with you, so I will take all the extra I can get.

 Even though you want me quite a bit, you and your sister are so in love with your daddy. At the end of the day you can recognize his truck coming down the road, and you, Tay, and Fifi all run to the window, eager to greet him. He barely has time to get his boots off before you both are tackling him, ready to play.

Your daddy loves you so much and is so proud of you. He can't wait to teach you how to hunt, fish, and throw a football. 

You love to go out to the garage with him and "help" work on whatever he is doing.

 You look just like him and I can tell you, you will continue to grow up to be a handsome man. I am a blessed momma. 

I love you sweet boy. Happy 16 month birthday.

Love, Momma  

The Story of Wyatt's {Birth} Day

How fast one year goes by. I am still trying to wrap my head around the fact that my baby boy is going to be 1 tomorrow. At 3:53 PM to be exact ;)

And today is the day I went into labor... Although the nurse at the hospital might argue you on that one.. But trust me.... I was.

It all started at 1 AM.. I woke up from a dead sleep, feeling a sharp twinge in my stomach, and a feeling that my water had broke... I waited a few minutes to get my bearings and sort of assess the situation. I was not about to wake up John, simply because I did not make it to the restroom in time. After about 10 minutes of the same feelings I decided to wake John up. I told him I thought my water broke and we needed to get ready. He woke up faster than I have ever seen him wake up. However, rather than rush out of the house in a panic, we took our time. This was not our first rodeo.

Oh the joy of the second baby. YOU HAVE A BETTER IDEA OF WHAT TO EXPECT. Can anybody out there agree with me? Even though we read the books.... and feel that we know "what to expect when we're expecting" You never know until you go through it.

When I went into labor with Taylor, my sister drove 90 mph to get me to the hospital, and guess what... We still had 10 hours to spare!

But anyways. I will have to share that story later. Continuing with the birthday boy.

 I took a shower, put on some make up, packed my bag {no.. my bag was not packed.. yes, it was only 5 days before my due date..but back to previous comment, I knew I had time} packed Taylor Rachelle's bags to go to her Mimi & Bapaw's house for the next couple of days, called my grandma to come watch Taylor until the morning {she had been telling me for a month that she was on call to help with Tay because A) our apartment was only 2 minutes away from her house and B) I guess she had a feeling already that I would go into labor in the middle of the night} called my mom, called John's mom, texted my sister, texted Kim, Richard & Audris. So now that we were all packed, everybody notified, 2 hours later, we were heading to the hospital.

Meanwhile, during all of the hustle and bustle, I was trying to time my contractions. But they were completely irregular. 2 minutes apart one set, 10 minutes apart the next, 1 minute, 8 minutes.. and so on. Still, I knew I was in labor.

We arrived at the hospital around 3:30, I told the receptionist that my water had broken and I was in labor. She had me sign in, led me to a room, and we waited for a nurse to come in. Those of you who have been in labor before, might know the quick test they do to see if your water has actually broken, and for those of you who do not, I will spare you the details, other than the fact that there is a Q-Tip looking test stick that is supposed to turn blue.... mine did not. 

My heart sank, and my first thought was, OMG. Did I just notify the entire world that I had simply wet the bed? No. It couldn't be. I was having contractions. I told the nurse she had to be mistaken. She was wrong. The test was wrong. I knew what labor felt like and I WAS IN IT. Well.. the nurse did the best she could to calm my hormones, but I wasn't satisfied until she agreed to try the test again. No.Blue.What.So.Ever.

She calmly told me that I was in false labor. That since my contractions were irregular, I should try to drink lots of water, and go walk a little while to see if they stop. It is now 4:30 in the morning lady, you want me to go walk and drink water?!?! I told her, what if I was really in labor.. Did she simply want me to walk the baby out?! She told me that if I was in true labor, the contractions would get stronger and closer together, water would not help, and that I should come back to the hospital. Textbook.

But in case you can't tell where this is going, nothing about this labor and delivery went by the book.

Now the part I dreaded.. Walking outside and facing my mom, in laws, sister in law, and Richard & Audris {who by the way beat me to the hospital - they were ready for the arrival of Twoler ;)} So...the dreaded news.. I'm sorry all of you got up in the middle of the night, but I'm supposedly not in labor.... They were all very understanding of course {that or just not willing to get in the path of a hormonal pregnant woman - we will never know ;) } And when I told them my "directions" someone suggested we get breakfast! Great idea, I was starving, and if I was going to be having a baby later on, I might as well get a good meal in. So, we headed to Jim's, at 5 AM, we were the first and only ones in for breakfast :) After a nice breakfast, interrupted by a few contractions, we decided well, why don't we go "walk". But what is open at 6:30 in the morning? My first option, Target, did not open until 8, so Wal-Mart it was. I needed a new broom anyways.

I did not really want to draw attention to ourselves, but with a giant belly, and 8 people all walking into WalMart this early in the morning, we were bound to raise a few eyebrows... And we did! All the employees simply stared at us, as we made our laps around the store. Finally, we started sharing our bit of news, "She's in labor and we're trying to pass the time!"

Even bigger eyebrow raises and shocked expressions... Don't worry people, I'm not trying to have my baby here in the lawn and garden section. Which is where we parked it for the next 2 hours. I was tired, still having contractions, and we resorted to waiting until my doctor's office opened, to see what he wanted me to do. So we sat and we waited, rested, and timed contractions. Richard was my official timer, Mom the back up timer who got after Richard if he missed my start and end signal hand raise hehe, Sherry my gauge as to how painful the contraction was - I will never forget her telling me she was happy to see me wincing and pain in my face, that we needed it to meet her newest grandson ;), poor Audris got sick and was resting in the chair, Opa fell asleep, and John and Samantha my support group :)

But as much as we were ready for this baby, it was not looking promising... my contractions were not by the book. They were all over the place, and never, ever started on a normal pattern. The words of that nurse hung in my head, and I really started to doubt if I was truly in labor. 9 AM rolled around and I called the OBGYN office. I told them what was going on, and they said that I should come in, and Dr. Farhart could check and see what I should do.
As I walked out the door, I felt as if every WalMart employee watched me go. They probably did.

I went up with John to the doctor's while the family waited down in the hospital. Based on the description of my symptoms, and the fact that I had been having contractions for 8 hours, the staff took me right in, and I was seen quickly.

Dr. Farhart delivered the news... Laughter. My heart sank even further than it had been all morning. I dreaded what he was about to say. Laughter could only mean one thing, I was not in labor.

Through the laughter, Dr. Farhart told me, I cannot believe you are just sitting here, telling me you think you are in labor, and you are currently 8 cm dialated! Let's go have a baby!

OMG. FINALLY!

I.was.so.relieved.

But then relief  turned to panic, when it dawned on me that I might miss my window to get an epidural. {another thing about baby number 2... yes, yes, yes, I WILL be getting an epidural!}

Miss confident all morning that I had plentyyyyy of time before I had to get to the hospital, suddenly felt the extreme need to get down there and make sure I could get drugs! Ha ha. 

I got in to my room, set up to monitors, had a quick double thought that maybe I could make it without an epidural, after all, I made it to an 8 what was 2 more centimeters?, but that thought quickly passed, when I thought about pushing that baby out without anything to dull it. Hmmm, epidural please?! And I was ready. Waiting to meet that sweet boy.
And waiting.....waiting.....waiting.....

I stalled at an 8.
SO close....yet so far. So ensues some more waiting...

10:30...Tiff and Kim arrived..{because of all the urgency in the doctor's office, I was sure I would have this baby within the next couple hours!}

11:30 passed...

Kyle came to keep John company ;)

(notice Opa waiting it out over there, hehe)

12:30 passed...

My dad came during lunch break...

1:30 passed...

 Dad went back to work :(

2:30....

I was glad I had that epidural.....

3:30... YES! We have made it to a 10!

Time.To.Push!!!!!!!

Everyone scurried around, getting everything set for baby, and amidst all the shuffle I had my eyes set on that sweet little hat, ready underneath the baby incubator {not sure the technical name hehe}

and I could not wait to meet my son!  

10 minutes and 4 pushes later, at exactly 3:53 PM--my boy Wyatt James made his entrance into this world.

9 lbs 12 oz

22 inches long.

Wait let's go back over that weight. NINE pounds TWELVE ounces? Did I mention the little prayer I said, thankful I had that epidural?!

John texted everyone that Wyatt was born, and how big he was, and they really thought he was joking. Hehe. Nope, God gave me a sweet, gentle giant.

So....That is the story of my baby boy's birth.

It's not textbook...

It's not traditional...

and it's not anything I ever expected.

But I will tell you one thing it is.

It was God's plan for my life, and for the start of my sweet boy's life.

And I could not be more thankful.

Thankful for a healthy pregnancy,

for a comical labor,

for a smooth delivery,

for the life of my amazing

adorable

sweet

sweet

boy.

FOR MY FAMILY.



Happy Birthday my sweet son. I love you more than you will ever know.

Momma's Boy

Well hello there!

I am finally back and have a new post! Woo hoo! I have missed writing and yes I know... I only wrote three entries before I lost track of time and neglected my poor blog.... But I am back. (for now. hehe)

Lets see what happened between now and my last entry. In a nutshell....

My birthday..

..Christmas

New Years..

..Teething Baby

Crawling Baby..

..Standing Baby

Almost cruising baby..

..Family flu 

Valentine's Day

Dad's 50th birthday planning

Taylor's 3rd party planning

So... that about sums up the past 3 months of my life :) I am determined to keep up this blog a little bit better.. Starting today. :)

Today I woke up to a new sound.. Usually when Wyatt wakes up he just fusses. For those of you who know him, know that he rarely crys. He mostly makes a grumbling sound. Quite like a grumpy little man, belly achin. ;) But today was something new, as I listened on the monitor I hear, a bit of grumbling followed by a very clear mmmm---aaaaa.

Yes. I do believe he was trying to say Mama. And it melted my heart.

When John got home I told him that I thought Wyatt was trying Mama, and he just grinned, shaking his head. See, Taylor's first word was Dada. She is his little girl, and she knows she has her daddy wrapped. So I believe John might think I am trying to imagine things up. After all, everyone knows that it is easier for babies to pronounce a D rather than an M.

Well..we were getting the kids ready for bed, and Wyatt was a little fussy, ready for his nightime bottle. And sure enough, it happened again, this time with John standing there. I heard it, the "mmmmm" sound followed by a short "MA!" I looked up to see if John was paying attention and he had a big smile on his face. No denying it this time ;)

He looked at Wyatt and said "Are you a Momma's boy?" and he looked at me and said "Would that make you happy?"

What do you think :)

Truth is, it doesn't matter to me whether he says Momma, Dada, or anything else. It just makes me so happy to see him growing, developing, and forming word sounds. But yes, if the boy loves and wants his mama, my heart is beaming with pride. I am going to enjoy all I can right now, because I know in a very short time he will be all grown up and I will miss these times very much.