Now, this will apply to all moms, but I have to say that the more children you have the MORE that you will be able to relate.  AND, if you happen to have had your children close in age you will get it even more.  To all the moms, in case you ever wondered, You are DEFINITELY a MOM if . . .

You have ever fished a toy out of the toilet . . . before it was flushed.

You have ever had to scrub poop off the walls.

You have ever gone grocery shopping and long about the chip aisle you realize that you hadn’t looked in a mirror all day.  And you’re not really sure if you brushed your teeth.

Your children all have clothes from Old Navy and Gap and your newest article of clothing is a t-shirt from Walmart.

You wore your new Walmart t-shirt 4 days last week because you truly didn’t have anything else to wear.

Once it reaches 8 pm you find yourself trying to justify why it’s really not important for children to have a bath every day, . . . or three.

Sometimes you decide to let your kids play in the hose in the backyard because then you can count that as a bath, right?

You have ever found yourself saying the most ridiculous things.  Such as:

     “If you fall and bust your head open you are going to get a spanking!!”

     “Son, we don’t put goldfish(crackers) in our ear, or in our underwear.”

     “What do you mean you have an apple seed in your nose?”

     “What are the rules about standing on the kitchen counter?  Right, you only do it when Mommy asks you to.”

And of course,  You are DEFINITELY a mom if . . .

Your lunch consisted of leftover pb&j, crunched up cheetos, and apple peels.

You spend 2 hrs preparing for a 30 minute outing.

In that 2 hrs you forgot to pack any extra diapers, a change of clothes for the one kid who has an accident (you have something for the other 3) and you forget your cell phone and to put new checks in the checkbook.  What exactly did you spend the 2 hrs doing?

And last (for today).  You are DEFINITELY a mom if you can’t remember the last time that you went to the bathroom by yourself!!

Love to all the awesome Moms and Moms to be out there!!!

This is NOT my foot!

I have wanted at tattoo for many years now, but I did NOT decide on my last night at the beach to go ahead and get one.  I would NEVER do something so permanent!!

It is purely coincidental that the tattoo in the picture has 3 blue flowers and one pink.  Even though that would work perfectly for my 4 kids, that is NOT my tattoo!!!

Getting a tattoo would be crazy!  That is why I, an almost 36 yr old mother of four, would NEVER get one!  Nope, NOT ME!!!!

My latest attempt (catastrophe) at teaching my children began when Nana showed up at our house with little containers each holding a helpless caterpillar.  It sounded very simple.  You just watch the caterpillar for a day or two and he/she will make a cocoon.  You then remove the lid from the container and carefully place it in some type of cage and wait approx 7 days for the beautiful butterfly to emerge.  You then wait about 48 hrs for the wings to be mature and then you release the butterfly.  Easy, right?

It started well.  We had “Pepper” in one container and “Hot Dog” in the other.  Both sitting in the kitchen window sill.  A day or so passed and I noticed that both had moved up to the lid, a good sign.  Within another 24 hrs two perfectly formed cocoons were hanging from the lids, right on schedule.  Piece of cake!

Now I just had to remove the lids and somehow secure them to the top of the bug habitat that I had previously bought for my kids.  Thankfully I did not allow my kids to be witness to this horrible transfer. 

So there Nana and I were.  In my kitchen with two bug habitats ready and two small containers of cocooned caterpillars.  You know, you really shouldn’t mess with nature.  These bug habitats didn’t really have any way to attach the lids to the top but I had a plan.  See, once I removed the lid I thought I should just be able to tape it to the top net.  Except I didn’t have any good tape, but I DID have a roll of painters tape (I just repainted the playroom).  That should work fine.  I opened the first lid and very carefully, held it up as I rigged up some type of double sided tape thing and carefully (with shaking hands) stuck him in his new bug habitat home.  Whew, one down one to go.  I removed the second, except there was a problem!!  His silk strands were stuck to the side of the container and when I removed the lid his cocoon became loose from the lid!  I started to panic.  I mean a cocoon won’t work if it’s not hanging upside down, will it??  I carefully lifted the lid and had to “surgically” cut each silk strand loose from the lid.  It was rough and the result did not give me much hope.  The cocoon was barely attached to the lid.  Any movement and it would have broken loose.  And then . . . came the movement.  I DROPPED the lid!!!  Seriously.  I dropped the lid with the cocoon barely attached.  All the way to the floor.  I screamed and dove to pick it up.  My heart rate was elevated and breathing was shallow.  I was killing an innocent caterpillar or butterfly or whatever it was it this moment.  My hands were shaking as I stared at what I was convinced I had just killed.  This poor cocoon. 

I took a deep breath.  Pull it together Mom.  Everyone is counting on you!!  Especially this tiny life in the cocoon.  So, having no other real options, I reach for the super glue.  I HAD  to reattach the silk strands that were holding the cocoon to the lid of the plastic container so that I could secure it to the top of the bug habitat.  Just as I had done with the other cocoon.  So I did it.  I super glued the silk strands to the lid.  Nana was helping and saying that the fumes were going to kill the butterfly.  But what choice did I have???  If  I didn’t do it he was going to die, and if I did do it he might die.  And if he died I was going to have to face my kids and tell them I killed their butterfly!!!!  What choice did I have???!!!??? 

So I got the silk strands secure with the super glue and managed to pull my finger free from the super glue without pulling the silk strands back down.  And then while rigging up the same double sided tape thing the unimaginable happened, again.  I dropped the cocoon!!  AGAIN!!!  I shrieked and again dove to the floor to rescue the poor cocoon.  What was wrong with me?  Why couldn’t I manage to hold this cocoon in one hand while building  a tape apparatus with the other?  This was all going so wrong and the butterflies were going to die and it was going to be my fault.  Why was I even given this responsibility?  I mean I already have to take care of 4 humans everyday.  Did I really need to add a couple of helpless cocoons to that?

The next 2 minutes are a blur.  Somewhere in the midst of shaking hands and shallow breathes I managed to get the cocoon in his super glued lid taped to the top of his bug habitat.  I was spent.  And now the waiting period begins.  Approx 1 week from the time they cocoon a  beautiful butterfly should emerge.  And my kids were counting on it.

Fast forward about 6 days.  I come downstairs that morning and as I am fixing the babies cups I look at one of the habitats in the window sill.  The cocoon is empty!  And there is a beautiful butterfly in the habitat!  Success!!!!  I was so happy!  Until I realized that the new helpless butterfly was stuck.  TO THE TAPE!!!!  The painters tape I had used to secure the cocoon to the top of the habitat had become a trap!  This new baby butterfly and her tiny delicate legs were STUCK to the tape.  I was in panic mode.  Strange thoughts crossed my mind.  Can a butterfly live without legs?  If I were to reach in and cut off the tips of her leg would they regenerate?  Maybe I can just release the whole thing, butterfly and tape?  I couldn’t believe this!!  I was killing a butterfly.  Thank goodness the kids were at school and didn’t have to see this.  I was distraught.  So I did the only thing I could do.  I took the babies and went to Target.  No need to hang around and watch the devastation I had caused.

When I returned butterfly #2 had emerged!!  This was a huge relief because this was the super glue butterfly!  And she was NOT stuck to any tape!!  Yay!  I had not killed this butterfly.  I moved over to inspect the poor stuck butterfly and guess what?  Somehow the butterfly had freed itself from the tape!  I had two perfectly healthy butterflies!  What a relief!

The next 48 hrs I “misted” their wings.  I place tiny dishes of premixed nectar in their habitats.  I stared intently as they stretched and shook their wings.  Before I knew it, it was time to release them!

The kids were thrilled.  Their butterflies had hatched and they were ready to release them.  I was outside with the camera, of course.  J1 opened the door to Hot Dog’s habitat and the butterfly flew away before I could even take a pic.  J2 took her time (at my prompting) and I got a few pics before “Pepper’ flew away.  It was bittersweet.

Bittersweet, and a MIRACLE!!!  I can’t believe those things survived!!  I have to say it again.  I’m just not that kind of mom!  I can’t do the cool experiments.  I don’t grow things.  I can barely  keep things alive.  Seriously, I had to super glue a cocoon in place and rig up some sort of tape thing that then trapped a poor innocent life???  Who does that??  I know moms who are super cool and who can do these kinds of things.  They always have some cool activity planned or some great learning experience lined up.  Not me.  I really just want to go about potty training, and laundry and desperately trying to get in enough fruit and veggie servings every day.  I can’t raise caterpillars to be butterflies!! 

Except somehow, by the grace of God, I think I did!

1.  I DON”T feel guilty for feeding my babies formula!  I did breastfeed all 4 for varying periods of time, but when necessary they got formula.

2.  I DON”T feel guilty for co-sleeping with some of my kids and not others.  Different kids, different needs, different circumstances.

3.  I DON”T feel guilty for setting an expectation of behavior for my kids and then following through with natural consequences if they don’t meet that expectation. 

4.  I DON”T feel guilty for sometimes letting a child cuddle with me on the couch even though they were supposed to be in bed and they sneak downstairs for “water” or the “noise” that they heard. 

5.  I DON”T feel guilty for not doing everything for or “babying” my kids.  Sometimes I wish I could baby them more, but with 4 kids it’s not always possible.  Nothing is wrong with a child that can do things for themselves.

Whew, that was tough!!!  Why should it be so hard to come up with things I’ve done as a mother that I don’t feel guilty about?  My reason for forcing myself to begin to make statements of things I’ve done right as a mother is because I don’t think I am helping my kids by drowning in my own guilt.  I want my kids to see that they are being raised by a confident mother who makes decisions and doesn’t second guess herself.  Sure, I will and do make mistakes.  But I want to teach my children to make good decisions and feel confident about those decisions.  They have to learn that from me.

Come on Moms!!  Comment with 5 things that you DON”T feel guilty about as a mother, or write your own blog post and put your link in my comments.  I want to read about all the strong moms out there!

I called my dad and fussed about how the birds hate my feeder.  I mean, how hard is it to feed a bird?  So, Dad comes by and says that my bird feeder is the problem, that it doesn’t look like a bird feeder.  Huh?  Do birds know how bird feeders look?  Who teaches them what a “proper” bird feeder looks like? 

So I send my dad to the store and he comes back with a new ($20) bird feeder.  We fill it up and hang it on the pole.  I wait about 3 days, and guess what?

They came.

And they ate!!

And they even got into a little bird squabble.

And then, . . .  HE came!

And HE ate, A LOT!!!!

And although I did like to watch his persistant attempts at stealing my expensive bird seed,

I also liked it when he failed!!

Pig squirrel eats too much!! 

So apparently I have snob birds.  They don’t like $4 walmart feeders.  They only like $20 Home Depot feeders (I should have known).

But, now I have all my pretty birds to look at. 

Now to come up with a plan to keep pig squirrel away . . .

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.
Here we are again!  Time for me to confess all the things that I did NOT do this week!

I did NOT send(lock) all the kids outside on 2 different afternoons this past week.  This has been a LLLLOOOOOONNNNNGGGG winter and I am sooooo happy to see spring come!  But we have a fenced backyard, so if I did lock the kids out, which I did NOT, they would have been completely safe!!

I did NOT let my 3yr old get his paci and “kiki” (blanket) and lay on the floor to watch Dora every night last week.  Daddy had to work late and Mama was just tired.  But even then I would NOT let my 3yr old have his paci!!  I mean please, he is 3!!!!  He does NOT even take a paci anymore!!

I did NOT request to have my kids conference by phone rather than in person.  I know that things are hectic and Nate did not have anymore time to take off work, but not going to a conference would be irresponsible, right?  So, that is exactly why I did NOT have the kids conference by phone, and love every minute of it!!!

I make it a habit of only confessing three things per week, so I have reached my limit!!

 Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.

Well, first off, I have NOT missed over a month of Mondays of doing my NOT ME Monday posts! 

I did NOT allow J3 to consume 1/3 a bag of ruffles chips and over 1/2 a container of french onion dip just because it was keeping him quiet.  I am NOT that desperate for a little peace and quiet that I would allow my child to do something so “un-nutritional”!!  I have much better ways of keeping my kids occupied!

In my attempts to return my kids playroom back to a happy and fun place I did NOT paint it the brightest turquoise blue that I could find!  I know I was desperate to totally change the look of the room that my kids had to give up so that it could temporarily become their grandfather’s bedroom while he was under hospice care.  But I would NOT go so overboard that the adjoining bathroom now glows blue, even with the door closed.  And I did NOT buy a polka dot and striped comforter set to go on the bed in that room.  When I revealed the new playroom to my kids they did NOT respond by gasping and covering their eyes.   I would never have picked a color THAT bright!!!

And finally, I did NOT bribe my two oldest children with money to spend at the school store if they would just get dressed quickly in the morning and not fight.  I know I was tired, and their dad had gone into work early leaving me alone to get them on the bus.  But I would NEVER resort to bribery.  I mean, that is just not right.

I have several ideas for posts this week!!  One on parenting, another one about my father-in-law, and one about “what I’ve done right” which will follow up on my Mommy guilt post.  Ideas are NOT my problem, time on the other hand is!!

I think he was saying, “If you take my picture ONE more time . . .!”

Enjoy!

The next 11 days are a blur of meds, oxygen and dread.  Bob had 2 good days after he came home.  Those were the two days that his family came to visit from TN.  He was up and able to talk and enjoy time with his family.  After that there was a steady decline.  His breathing became more labored.  He didn’t eat.  He would only drink when he took his meds.  And then there was the “terminal restlessness.” 

Ohhh, if I never hear those words again it will be ok.  By the end I felt like I was going to scream at the next person that tried to explain “terminal restlessness” to me one more time.  I told one nurse  “Oh, I’ve seen terminal restlessness.  I’ve lived it for the last 11 days.  There is nothing new that you can tell me about it.”  Terminal restlessness can have several causes and several extremes.  Basically, Bob was not ready to die and he fought it until the end, and he fought hard.  I believe that was the cause of his restlessness. 

So for about 8 days we all dealt with the restlessness which consisted of these things: confusion, agitation, pacing, insomnia, meaningless tasks.  During the worst part Bob was up for 36 hrs, took a short nap and was then up for about 8 more hours.  And by up I mean UP, and walking.  Taking oxygen on and off.  Trying to go outside.  And because he was confused we had to stay with him every second.  No amount of medication would help.  We even questioned if the meds were making it worse.  Physical and emotional exhaustion took over, we were running out of options.

Inpatient hospice.  We didn’t want it.  The nurses mentioned it to us for days and we said no.  We made a commitment to Bob, we would bring him home to die, with his family.  As two firstborns Nate and I don’t like to break a commitment.  In fact we will go to any length to avoid it.  We prayed and begged for another solution.  We prayed that the decision would be taken from us.  And it was.  We reached a point where Bob was suffering, and there was nothing we could do for him.  He deserved to be peaceful and free of pain.  So, there it was, there was no decision.  We do what we have to do.

Again we go through the motions.  Phone calls, insurance, nurse visits, signing papers.  Then, we wait for the ambulance to come for transport.  We had already gone through all these emotions when we left the hospital, but while we were at home it had turned into “work” mode and we were able to ignore the emotions.  But now, we were removing Bob from the house, and I knew he would never come back.  It was hard to hold back the tears.  I felt like I had failed.  I failed my father-in-law, and I failed my husband.  It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.

We get to the hospice facility and wait while he is being checked in.  Nate and I were sent to what looked like a cozy library to wait.  We sit huddled up on one end of the couch.  I felt so empty.  This room, it bugged me.  They tried to make it seem so inviting, a warm fire, shelves full of books, dim lighting.  Ugh, it was fake and we knew it.  It made us angry that they thought they could trick us.  The fire was even fake, just an orange light that “danced” on the inside of the fireplace.  I went and stood in front of it.  The sensation was odd.  To my eyes it looked like a fire, that it should be warm.  But as I stood in front of it my legs stayed cold.  Just like the room, cold.  I told Nate,  “I would feel the same inside if this room had concrete walls and bare metal chairs”.  He agreed.  It was one of our lowest points.

Bob received the help he needed.  Within about 24 hrs they were able to get him comfortable.  This was a relief, but short lived.  Nate and I spent almost all of Thursday, and all of Friday until Saturday morning there with Bob.  Those were some rough days, and nights.  There will never be words to describe what happened and how it impacted us.   But, by mid day Saturday things got back under control, and Bob was again as peaceful as we could hope.

Bob passed away on Monday night, Feb. 8, 2010.  Nate and I were with him for his final breath.  In a way there was relief.  Relief that he was at peace.  I knew where he was, and that brought some comfort.  But, the finality of it all was almost impossible to take.  And then, I had to go out to the waiting room to tell J1 and J2 that Grandad was gone.  They wanted to see him, so we let them.   There were two things worse than my own pain.  The pain of my husband, and the pain of my kids.  If I never have to see the look in my kids eyes when they realize that someone they love is gone, it will be too soon.

Honestly, the rest is business.  Packing for 6, sending everyone in separate directions.  Nate and I head to TN the next day to make arrangements.  My parents come the next day to bring J1 and J2 for the service.  The days after are spent cleaning out his room, going through pictures, taking care of details.  We return home on Saturday and spend the entire next week being sick.  Being sick was awful, but in some very needed way it helped us to catch up on some physical rest.  The emotional rest is still in progress.

At the visitation Nate said a few words to the family that was there.  He said that there may be several opinions of who Bobby Arwood was.  But he said that as a father and grandfather, he was flawless.  Flawless.  I agree.  I think Bob would have been honored to hear those words.  As a parent I could only hope to someday have that legacy.  He was a great man, and he was very loved. 

Thank you for reading about the journey that forever changed Nate and I.  I would imagine that losing a parent is one of the hardest things that you can go through, no matter the age.  Nate and I have endured trials over our almost 10 yrs of marriage, but this was one of the hardest.  I plan to write a post soon about Bob, and who he was.  How I will always remember him.  Until then, don’t assume that you have no earthly limits.  Say what needs to be said, love who needs to loved, and be with the ones who are important to you.  Start to finish, Bob’s illness was one day shy of 3 months from diagnosis.  Only 3 wks and 1 day from the time he came to GA, to spend time with his family.  But, we will see him again!  And for that we are very thankful!

(I have to give a little background.  My father in law, Bob, was diagnosed with stage IIIb non-small cell lung cancer in Nov. 2009.  He completed 33 radiation treatments, and 2 of 6 chemos.  By Jan he was getting weaker, and we wanted him to move to GA (from TN) where we could be closer to him, and help care for him.  Nate and I left on Jan. 16, 2010 to go get him from TN.  After returning home on the 17th and continuing to observe his condition, we decided that we needed to take him to ER on Monday morning.  He appeared dehydrated, and we were not able to control his pain with the prescriptions meds that he had.) 

Conflict.  That is all I felt for the first week.  Jan. 18th, as we were preparing to take Bob to the ER, I got the call.  My nephew was on the way!!!  I had been anticipating this moment for months, well 9 months to be exact.  The journey to Brayden’s arrival had been long, bumpy, and full of emotion.  And that was for me!  I can’t even begin to imagine how it was for his parents.  But, that was over now and Brayden was on his way, and I was thrilled!  Rushed phone calls, plans were made, and we were on our way.  I was off to welcome the family’s newest and long awaited addition.  In the back of my mind I was planning out how the ER visit for Bob would go.  I’m like that – I plan.  

 15 hrs. 

I went back and forth.  Labor and Deliver:  smiles, excitement, anticipation. 

ER:  concern, updates, test results, dread. 

Brayden was here! and he was perfect.  Mom was doing great, family was excited. 

 Bob was admitted, to telemetry unit no less.  His cardiac labs were “strange”.  A curve we didn’t see coming.

And so began a 5 day journey in the hospital.  Nate and I spend countless hours in room 275.  That and the hallway window seat.  We saw 4 doctors a day, sometimes more than once a day.  CT results: BAD.  Chest tube in place, pus draining.  Consult with a surgeon:  surgery was needed, but not sure if it was an option.  Cardio: his heart is weak, multiple past heart attacks.  Whoa. . .  what?  Cardio will not treat due to his “other” disease and it’s advanced state.  Oncology: we can’t continue with current treatment plan due to infection.  Pulmonology:  all we can do is drain infection, surgery is ONLY option.  Surgeon (final report):  surgery is NOT an option.  He will not survive surgery.  But wait, . . . they just said he won’t survive WITHOUT surgery!?!?

So there is was.  My beautiful, perfect nephew was here.  Such a gift.  And my father in law was dying.  Such a loss.

In between speaking with doctors, over and over and over again, and desperately trying to come up with a new approach, a new option, a different answer, I visited my new nephew.  So tiny, so new.  I held him and rocked him as his mom slept.  I touched his tiny hand and looked out the window to hide my tears.  This was so unfair.  How can one life begin, and another just . . . end.  Why now?  Why God, did you finally bless my sister and brother in law with this sweet life, only to take another?  The emotions were strong and tears came easy.  And I just rock, rock and rub that tiny hand.

But then, the visit was over.  Time to get on the elevator and put on a different face.  When the doors open on the second floor I have to be strong again.  Talk with doctors.  Support my husband.  Help make decisions.  Bad ones.  Where no one wins.

Thursday came, and Brayden went home with his mom and dad.  We stayed.  In that small room.  We sit in the hallway window seat.  There happens to be a box of tissue there.  Probably left behind by another family dealing with the same unreal decisions that we are facing.  It’s time to go home.

Friday comes with dread.  We have a power of attorney signed.  That was hard.  Then the attorney comes to have the will signed.  I barely could hold it together.  Bob is coming home, to die.  I feel numb as I make the same plans that I have made before, for other patients.  Except this time I was the one with the pain.  Speak with hospice.  Arrange for transport.  Discharge papers signed.  Prescriptions given.  One was for a cholesterol med.  Really??  He needs to take something for high cholesterol?  The hospice nurse said don’t bother having it filled.  Hmmm.  Have my dad clean out the playroom.  The hospital bed was being delivered.  Oh, and have dad go buy a coffeepot so I can make coffee for the people visiting.  Cream and sugar too.  The individual packets of sugar if you can find them.  Is this really happening?

I sit on the hard hospital bed in what was once my kids playroom.  The admitting hospice nurse is asking strange questions.  Does Bob have a history of any medical problems?  Uh, you mean other than the ones he is dying from?  I think he has had indigestion before, does that count?  I can’t concentrate, and I am not being very patient.  I am looking out the window waiting for the ambulance.  She is explaining the medications.  Whatever, I know what to do.  Just let me sign the papers so she will leave.  The ambulance is here . . .

Conflict.  The joy for what God has given, and the pain for what He will take away.