Nothing of importance...

I don't really have anything important to share...do I ever? But felt like I should keep up the streak and write. There have been 2 new and very beautiful additions to our lives! Milo Jay Jackson was born 2 days ago to one of my very best friends. He is the most handsome little boy - ever. He's got these big huge brown eyes, lashes that last for days and just the cutests little look to him. I can't wait to meet him and smooch on him! Just need to get this stupid foot to cooperate!

And then one of my oldest friends, Alana, just had her baby boy - Kayden Hatton today. He is a little doll, as well. He looks just like his Daddy and has some definite fire in his eyes. He's got his fair share of smooches coming from BB as well.

I got a call from my doctor today about my foot...he wantedme to come in and get a steroid shot. Can we saw - ouch??

My precious Dad had just came and rescued me from my children. As soon as he got to Lufkin I got the call that they needed me in the office. He came back and got me. Anywho, Dr. Warren suggested that we go with a steroid shot - keep it in a boot - and recheck it later. The MRI did show a few issues - but definitely not surgery worthy - yet. WHEW.

But then he pushes to button to make the bed go up, up, and away while he gets out the shot. Now...let me tell you...this was a SHOT. My dad saw the look in my eyes. I was not a fan. But I'm freakin suspended 4 feet in the air - and with a bum leg what the heck am I gonna do - hop down and run away? Well...the doc and my dad both picked up on my fear and took this as an opportunity to poke fun...let me tell you they were a riot (read annoying). At the last minute he actually numbed my foot and it wasn't too bad.

So far - nothing has changed. :/

Here's hoping that something gives! At least the world has 2 new beautiful baby boys in it!

Still waiting...

Current Read: Girl Who Kicked the Hornets Nest
Current Watch: Teen Mom
Current Procrastination: You guessed it...the pack n play laundry
Current Want: To get my results back!

So, today was my MRI. Not exactly a great time as I kept sneezing...but we should get the results back Friday - at the earliest - more realistically on Monday. Today has been a rough day. Mom is stressed and tired from taking care of me, the babies, and trying to clean my house up to "her standards." That will always be one thing we struggle with - Mom expects things to be a certain way - doesn't judge me for them not being it (even though I feel that she does) but in turn, I'm sitting with my leg elevated, miserable, watching her chase after my kids and do her best to make my house sparkle. Can we say guilt?? And...my house is not nasty...please get that straight - I wouldn't hesitate a second to let anyone who worked full time with 2 small kids enter my home. I think that they'd get it. They'd understand the dishes in the sink and maybe even relate to the pack n play full of laundry waiting to be folding. I hope that they'd even acknowledge that I managed to sweet and clean the bathroom and give me some well deserved dap. But...it's not perfect. My mom managed to create the Martha Stewart house. It was always decorated. Always spotless. I didn't get that gene. There's fingerprints and smudges. Diapers in the trashcan. At least one wine glass in the sink. But it's home. It also echoes with the laughter of a little boy and the squeals of a little girl expressing her glee. It has whispers of intimacy and shared secrets of two incredibly imperfect people who are in love. It's not perfect. But it's home.

My home.

I didn't know I was pregnant...

Current Read: The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets Nest
Current Watch: Mall Cops: Mall of America: Season 1
Current procrastination: The pack n play full of laundry...
Current Want: To be able to walk!

Okay ladies and gents...While I've been parked on my duff, I've had the opportunity to watch a lot of TV...well I've tried to anyway. I haven't been able to find anything really worth watching. I read a bit and then when I woke up the TV was on, "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant". My first reaction...really?

I have 2 questions - first of all, how do you NOT know you're pregnant? I get not realizing that you're knocked up for 1, 2, 3, maybe even 4 months - but to be 40 weeks pregnant and not have a clue?? REALLY??

Second of all - how do you get to be a member of that club? Cause, let me tell you, both times I've been knocked up, I was fully aware. Eating crazy stuff, mean, moody, sad, oh and, let's not forget - puking NONSTOP. So...how do you get to be part of the club where you don't gain weight, you don't get sick, your boobs don't ache to the point you'd gladly donate them to charity, and you continue your daily routine as if no biggie.

Those women are ridiculous and delusional. That's what I call DENIAL.

Okay...enough of my random rant.

Tomorrow I have an MRI at 2:30 to figure out what to do with my foot. I'm not going to go into it in detail because I'm fighting the blues as is, but, it hurts people. It's depressing to not be able to care for yourself or your children. Right now life is hard. So...here's hoping!

Christmas 2010

Currently read: "The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest"
Currently dread: Folding a pack n play full of laundry
Currently tv: Friday Night Lights Season 3
Currently want: Urban Decay Naked pallette from Sephora

Wow...Long time no see...if anyone sees this at all...anyway. I'll explain why I'm starting my blog AGAIN at a later post...but...Christmas 2010 is a much better story.

So - Thursday, December 17th was supposed to be such an easy day. My kiddos were watching a movie, grades were in, Christmas break was right around the corner. I was PUMPED. We had a girls night out planned and I was hell bent and determined to make it. I went to Christmas Spectacular and was looking forward to girl talk and holiday cheer after the show. Then I received this message:

Need you home. NOW. Hadley throwing up. Lots.

This is never something a girl time hungry, holiday cheer needing, stressed to the max mama wants to see. I called David back and hastily explained that my phone was dying - but that she'd be fine. She was congested and teething - it was natural for her to spit up. I was NOT going home with out my girl time (read holiday cheer).

I go to dinner and head home. I was greeted by a very haggard papa bear holding a very whiny baby girl. I gave her a bottle, kept her up for a bit - I thought all was well. I put her to bed. I had doors open, monitors on - the whole bit - and was INCREDIBLY relieved that she didn't puke the entire night - and that once again my ninja mama instinct was right and it was just the teething/congestion combo.

WRONG.

At 6:50 the next morning I went into her room to get her dressed and ready. The crib, the floor, and the girl child were all covered with puke. At the last minute I called in a sub, got the children as dressed and ready as possible and headed out. I took her to Dr. Fidone - and he declared her victim of the stomach bug. We stayed at the doctor for 5 hours so she could receive IV fluids. We arrived at my parents to pick up the kids at 2:26.

At 2:30 Dad pulls up with Bug in the back. He rolls down his window and screams - Hurry - He's throwing up everywhere. Great...now my 2 year old. We rush inside, get cleaned off, and put a call in to Dr. Fidone that he needs meds. I called David and told him that with both babies being sick - I needed him home ASAP. He heads our direction.

David enters at 3:15 - and promptly pukes at 3:25. At that point I knew my time was coming and rushed to get medicine, gatorade, and lysol. I got home - made it through the night - changed several clothes and sets of sheets - and took babies to follow up appointments the next day. We got home Saturday afternoon around 2 - and at 2:30, the universe suddenly decided it was my turn.

None of us were 100 percent until December 23rd. Yep...2 days before Christmas. We put our tree up on the 23rd, bought stuff to cook, and started our Christmas shopping - December 23rd.

Can we say, CRAZY?

Then - out of the blue - my ankle injury became increasingly worse. It started out randomly bothering me a month ago - but this morning it was so severe that I had to go to the doctor. He says I have a torn tendon - that I need to keep it wrapped and in a boot until my MRI later in the week.

YAY.

I'm ready for this break to be OVA.

The One That's Hard to Write...

You know...I'm willing to write about the good stuff - the good days - the good moments - even the not so good ones that have a funny twist or end up with a lesson learned and everything tied up in a pretty little bow. I always fail at writing about the real nitty gritty stuff...In past, when I've had blogs, they've lasted only as long as the good stuff has. They've lasted until David got laid off, or until my Grandma died, or until I didn't know how I was going to make it through...they never lasted any longer. I'm determined that this one is going to be different.

This weekend, has been by far the most harrowing weekend of my life. I've experienced fear and shock like I never have before. The image of seeing your good, sweet, honest, hard-working loved one hobble down a hallway, in an orange jumpsuit, being treated like a criminal - not knowing when you'll see them again, not having any answers for them - and just hoping that they makes it through this trial - is one that haunts you. It steals your breath away. Freezes your heart. Makes your hopes and dreams seem ridiculous - when all you want is to know that someone is going to be okay.

God worked some miracles. He once again surrounded me with support and reminded me of why my God Father is called God Father - because he truly is a gift from God. When I looked into my Dad's face Thursday night, separated by a plexiglass wall, our hands on the window to find some sort of comfort - even though he had fear in his eyes, and a feebleness that was so visual it shook me to the core - he told me - God has a plan, Britt. He's never failed me. He never will. Help me trust in Him, one more time.

To make an endless story short - God did work a miracle. Not that Dad got out - for his innocence was known before this was even started - but that he got out Friday instead of having to stay the weekend, he was protected, and he is home with us now.

I don't have all the answers. I could ask why - again - and again - and again - and again - but until He fails me - I don't have to know why. I can rest in the comfort that He has a plan.

I don't have any pretty little bows. I don't have any wit or humor to add to this. I have a hope and a belief that He will work all things out according to His will - and for today - I'm standing on that.

Purple Cow - Mooooooo

Lemme tell you friends, there's nothing like getting dressed in the morning with your son's leapfrog animal match game saying, "purple cow mooooooo" - especially when he's practicing his DJing skills and mixing it up to say, "pur - pur - purple - pur pur purple cow - moooooo mooooo". That in itself is it's own little nugget of joy. But, my friends, nothing tops looking at yourself in the mirror, purple maternity shirt stretched to the max over your maternity jeans stretched to the max - with the words purple cow mooooooo - lifting your spirits.

I changed my clothes.

3 times.

Thanks, Bug.

Remember the chili!

Interesting is not an adequate enough word for my weekend. At all. I'll start with Friday.

Friday morning, around 2AM I woke up with really bad back pain. I didn't think anything about it...until I realized that it wasn't persistent, just a sharp, twisting, burning, agonizing pain that came every few minutes. Wait a minute...excruciating pain?? Every few minutes?? Agonizing?? Oh, no! Oh God, no!!! CONTRACTIONS?? But in my back?? I waddled my way into the living room to get a handle on this whole situation. No way was I going to wake up my dear sweet husband for nothing...nope nope nope. I got my handy dandy iphone...and I timed those suckers. Every 12 minutes...OWWWWWWWWWWWW! As soon as it was a reasonable hour I called my doctor. She diagnosed me as having Braxton Hicks contractions - the only twist - they were in my back. If they increased or moved to the front - it's baby time! Friday was a long, horribly painful day. I'm still having the contractions, but they're not quite as strong...

So, Friday, in the midst of this, I get an email about 2 eight month old puppies who were looking for a home. Spayed, neutered, house trained, chip implanted in case they're ever lost, well loved dogs who needed a good home. I instantly called Dad. He was game. In the midst of my contractions, I worked out a plan to get the dogs. I knew that it wasn't great timing...but I also knew that this was an awesome deal. I had to take advantage of it. I told David that if we got the dogs and it totally worked for us - then we got a free blessing! If we got them and it didn't work out...we were just out a road trip to Livingston. Did I mention I was having excruciating contractions every 12 minutes during this time?? I was. I still worked out a plan to get my baby son a "goggie". I rocked.

Friday afternoon, I finally reached my humble abode. All I wanted to do was straighten the kitchen while David started dinner, fold the basket of clothes I had, give Bug a bath - and CHILL. David would NOT shut up about me getting off of my feet. Would. Not. Shut. The. Heck. Up. Finally, albeit it was said at the top of my lungs, I got it through his head that there were things I HAD TO DO in order to relax. Then I turn to start the dishes to tidy up - and there's freakin water in the sink! Standing sink water gives me the heebie jeebies...especially when preggo...so I said...very politely, I'm sure, David pull the drain in the sink so I can start these stupid dishes! He goes over...fiddles...and says..."the drain is already pulled...I think our sink is stopped up." For some reason...this unnerved me. I did not have time for my sink to be stopped up! I did not have time to deal with landlords, and plumbers, and waiting the weekend to get it fixed nor did I have the money to eat out until it was (remember...I can't cook in a dirty kitchen.) "Well how does this happen, Dave?" And then, he did it. He laughed. LAUGHED. and says, "well...I might've put some chili down it...ha ha ha ha" hardy freakin har har. Needless to say, I was not amused. I went into a blind rage then...I'm honestly not sure of everything that I said (read yelled) - but let's just say it escalated. After Drano failed to fix the problem, my husband attacked the pipes. Turns out a big blob of grease will, indeed, stop up your kitchen sink.

Point: The sink was fixed. 35 minutes later the kitchen was clean and supper in the oven. Nothing was lost but my temper and a little bit of time. Why did I react that way?

Now, this brings us to Saturday. Saturday morning Dad and I head to Livingston to pick up the dogs and leave David to get Hadley's room in order (the contractions and labor and deliver bit really got me motivated) and mom to watch Bug (and make my house sparkle...thanks mom!). We go to just about the nicest person I've ever met's house, load up the dogs, and head home. Except on the ride home...Dad discusses how they're really not what he expected...yada yada yada (and they weren't) and if I wanted them for Brax, we should just keep them together. So. Now, I don't have 1 dog, I have 2...larger than I expected dogs. We get home, introduce them to Bug, unload all of there stuff...and wait. They do nothing. They sleep. A lot. They flinch when Brax tries to talk to them. They dont' know their names. You take em out, they want in. You keep em in, they want out. Let's all say it together. UH. OH. Saturday night, they barked. At everything. Loudly. They woke my son up (not good) - they woke David up at 5 - really not good. They peed and pooped where the pleased, despite being taken out. I'm already not liking these dogs...but my husband insisted I give them a chance. In fact, while he, Bug, and Dad were out eating, it'd give me a chance to bond with the dogs.

This is the way we bonded. They barked and woke me up from my nap. No one was there. I took them out, stayed out in the cold weather for 15 minutes. We came back in. They both peed and pooped on my floor (that my mom had previously made sparkle.) While I'm hobbling around - remember the contractions? - cleaning up dog poop - THEY CHEW ON MY COUCH. That was it. I'm finished. Done. Out. Stick a fork in me...DONE. I called David - told him that I wasn't cut out to parent a 2 year old, manage a house, work, grow a baby, and handle 2 mindless mean spirited pooping dogs. That they had to go back. There was a slight argument there...I may or may not have overreacted (again). And some how, lets just say David ended up being hung up on...

I sat and I fumed. And I thought. And then I prayed. And you know what I realized...I made a mistake. A bad decision. A wrong call. A big fat (peeing and pooping and chewing) mistake. Just like he had the day before. Why was I the one always overreacting? Why did I allow myself to make mistakes...but not anyone else? Why weren't other people (i.e. my husband...) entitled to mistakes as well? I called him back. And I told him that I made a mistake...and that I was sorry...but I couldn't handle the dogs. I wasn't angry. I wasn't vindictive. I wasn't irrational. I was honest. I explained that I knew he liked the dogs...but...that I just couldn't handle it. And - the thought that I could...was a mistake. Do you know what my precious, gracious, gentle, kind-hearted husband said back to me? "It's okay babe. We all make mistakes...remember the chili??" :)

Thank you, God, for my husband that loves and accepts me...temper, entitlement, and mistakes - all of it. And God, also, thanks for making it to where, when we make a mistake, once we're honest about it, You give us the chance to fix it. Help me to give everyone that chance. And God - one more thing - THANKS FOR MAKING SOMEONE ELSE WANT THOSE POOPING, PEEING, CHEWING DOGS. LESSON LEARNED! Amen...

Gettin' bigger all the time...

So, as I previously mentioned, I'm pregnant with an absolutely beautiful and perfect baby girl who will make her appearance March 26th! When we found out that I was indeed knocked up, I hoped for a girl so that this could be my last pregnancy (I promised Romeo I'd try once more for a girl) - so - when Dr. Suiter said - "I think it's a Hadley Grace!" - I said - "THANK YOU JESUS! I DON'T HAVE TO DO THIS AGAIN!" For real. Totally legit.

This pregnancy has been much different than my first. Not many preterm contractions. Energy level is pretty decent...and all around...just better. One thing, however, that I didn't escape is that EVERYTHING has gotten bigger! Bigger emotions, bigger feet and hands, bigger belly, butt, face...you name it. It's been amazing to watch how I've grown.

When we first found out we were pregnant, I was happy. She was very much so planned and wanted and even prepared for...but a few days later, as I rocked Braxton to sleep...I began to weep uncontrollably. How in the world would I manage to love TWO babies? Braxton already had my heart bursting at the seams with joy, happiness, excitement, pride...how would it be possible for me to love another little person - THIS much?

To be honest...I didn't have answers. And I didn't have much peace. I just had to take a deep breath and say ready or not here we come...but...what I've noticed is that, Yes - my ring size has grown, my toes look like grapes that could be plucked, and I couldn't see my feet many months ago - I've indeed grown bigger. But, so has my heart. I definitely know that my love for my son hasn't diminished - he's such a remarkable little boy with the brightest eyes and biggest smile. No, my friend...my love has anything but diminished. So...my heart has simply grown. It's found a way to double it's capacity. So, now, as I hold my first precious gift from God in my arms, I no longer fret about loving another gift. I smile and tear up with joy thinking about how much love my arms are going to hold when I gather both of them in my arms, and how thankful I am that my heart has gotten bigger!

I'm not the best at this...

Introducing myself, that is. I never really know what to say - and am constantly fearful that I'll say too much or not enough. I guess that I could start by introducing the characters.

David - my adorable, loving, gentle, and sometimes clueless husband. He's a great sport about being the butt of my jokes and a champ at loving me like no one else ever could. Without a doubt - he's the one God made for me! And although sometimes, I'm sure, throughout the duration of this blog it won't seem like it...I DO, INDEED, love him endlessly.

Braxton - my perfectly adorable 20 month old baby son! His current interests are Yo Gabba Gabba (Yo Yo) and Wow Wow Wubzy (Wow Wow). He's the most perfect challenge God ever gave me - he's smart, funny, and 100% boy!

Hadley Grace - ETA March 26th! (Yeah, I know they'll only be 22 months apart...I'm not sure what I was thinking, either!)

Dad - My hero and best friend - my anchor and reminder of the strength that resides in me.

Mom - My beautiful friend whom I'm learning to appreciate more and more. The older I get the more I realize how I judge my success based on her.

There are also countless students and precious friends whom I'm sure will grace the posts.

About Me: I'm loud. I don't watch what I say or how I say it as carefully as I should. I like real people. I pride myself on seeing through the bull. I do my best to make my God proud...but am very aware that I have a long way to go. I love to cook, find strength in heart to heart conversations, and deal with stress through humor.

More to come later...I know you're all on the edge of your seats!