The fight to quit

Sigh.


I have failed at my attempt to quit smoking. I am so disappointed with myself. I was doing just fine until Saturday, I forgot my nicotine patch. Honestly, I was looking for an excuse to fail. I wanted to fail. The truth is that I like to smoke.

Another truth, I like to live.

Yet another, I am overweight and I am scared that not smoking will cause additional weight gain.

So, I feel backed into a corner. I can smoke because I like it, and it's easier, and I am more likely to get various forms of cancer and other nasty diseases. I can quit, and likely gain even more weight, which could lead to diabetes, there is a strong history in my family, which can lead to all kinds of other complications. On the other hand, I could feel better enough to exercise when I am not smoking. It makes me so grouchy not smoking that I just want to sit and grouch and gripe and not do anything productive like exercise.

Ugg! Do you understand the battle here?!?!?!

I certainly wish that when I decided to start this smoking stuff, I had known... Oh, wait, I did know. I was 15 years old and believe me, I knew it ALL. *sarcasm*

I have failed. Time to step it up, put on my patch, and make it through a new smoke free day.

Cadan tells me all the time, "Mom, you need to go to stop.com and log in and just stop."

If only it were that easy.

The Quiet of the Night

I never knew how much I would appreciate bedtime until I had kids of my own. I remember when I was a kid, Mom & Dad would make Donna & I go to bed at 8 pm every single night. I thought that they were mean people at the time. I thought that they just wanted us out of their hair. I was right.

I guess it's not exactly that I want the kids out of my hair at bedtime. There are other good reasons for bedtime. Sleep for example. They needs lots of it to be functioning little humans. I know I need lots to function well, and well, I don't get that much, especially when I let the bedtime routine slip.

So I enjoy a few hours of the quiet of the night, after bedtime. This is the time when I can relax, or not. I can blog, or not. I can lurk at my favorite message board. I love that place. It's my "home" on the net.

I truly believe if not for the prayers sent out from around the world from the friends on my message board, my husband would not be here today. I think that desperate post was the smartest thing that I have ever done. I cried out to anyone who could hear me to please pray. They did. I just wonder how many people were reached, how many cries went out to God that night on our behalf. Certainly, my "home" on the net did not fail me. Those folks held my hand through the darkest days of my life. It was truly amazing the comfort received from virtual strangers. This is not to say that those I know in real life were not equally amazing.

These are the things I think about in the quiet of the night.

I ofter wonder how things would have turned out had I chose not to post "Prayers desperately needed." Indeed, prayers were desperately needed that night, and they were answered. Those dark days I felt so close to God. I felt His presence. I was guided by Faith. I knew that my husband was going to be here with me to raise our children.

Goodnight.

Back to normal.

He finally looks "normal" again. His smile is back. If he heard me say that he would laugh and say that there is nothing normal about him.

Looking "normal" is not important, though. Not at all. It's the feeling of normal that is important. We have a routine, we eat dinner together. We enjoy each other's company. We are normal. We are a normal family, a normal couple, who had a near miss. We are going to be okay. He is going to be okay. Life is going to be okay. This is a feeling that I missed a lot. In fact, I had no idea how much I missed it until I just felt it. I was just sitting here in the back yard, talking with Steve, watching the kids play, and I looked at him and thought, WOW! It hit me like a ton of bricks, all at once. It's a very nice feeling.

Steve can do almost anything that he could do prior to the accident. Some days are still rough. Sometimes he helps my Dad for a few days. He and I have been working on painting the house. Right now he is under the house working on the plumbing. Jacob, his best friend, is still around, and I am so grateful for that. Most of his friends disappeared after the accident and that really hurt him. Sometimes he still slurs when he is really tired, and his face will still droop occasionally. If you never met him before the accident, you would never know.

He spends much more time with me and the kids, he is funnier and funner than ever. He tells jokes again! He smiles all the time. We talk a lot more, we love a lot better. We are friends again. We are going to make it. Our marriage feels stronger than it ever has. I think that we have survived and we are going to continue to make it.We were finally at a good place when the accident happened. Steve and I have always had a rough marriage, not bad, not great. There were lots of trust issues, and I was finally getting over them. We were getting along, the bills were paid, we started working the same shift the week before the accident. We had big plans. Then it felt like the world crumbled.

This is going to probably sound really selfish, but here goes. I feel like I am over it. The past is what it is, and it is time to go on. We have so many things to be grateful for, beautiful healthy children, birth control, I have a good job. We are healthy. I am getting the help I need for my emotional issues, and I own them now, I don't feel trapped by them. I am ready to start losing some of the 100 pounds I have gained and taking care of myself and my family. I even went and had a hair cut and color the other day. It felt so good, and it's been a LONG time.

So, life feels good again.

Thanks for reading.

The loss of Frankie.

Do you ever lose anyone expectantly? Nope. I don't think so.

We lost a colleague, a good friend, a comedian, this weekend. When I say we, I mean the world. The world has lost out on Frankie. All those who never heard that laugh have missed out. All of those who never saw that spirit that carried him have missed out.

No one should die at 30.

I am so saddened, not only for the lose of Frankie, but for the pain that my friends are in. I haven't actually seen any of them, but their pain is evident in their online postings, their text messages.

One of the things that really strikes me is that Frankie was one of five boys. As a Mom of 4 boys, this touches my heart in a way I cannot explain. I loved to hear Frankie talk about growing up in a family of all boys. He adored his brothers. He could always relate to me when I was having a hard time dealing with my 4 boys. It was truly a blessing to know him.

I wish I could reach out to his mother. Most 30 year old men don't speak about their Mom the way that Frankie did. I remember when she was coming in for a visit a few months ago, he was so worried about mowing the lawn.

I will miss the contagious laughter. The sparkling eyes. The jokes. The man. The friend.

I wish you peace Frankie.

Cadan is about to start Kindergarten

We are getting ready this week. Today we had his 5 year check up. He is 48 pounds and 46 inches tall! He is over the 90th percentile on both metrics! He has weighed basically the same since he was 3 years old, he has just much taller and skinnier.

Tomorrow we will spend our last family day of the year. I plan on just hanging out at home with the boys and doing fun stuff.

Wednesday is the BIG day! We will get him registered and enrolled. Hopefully we will meet his teacher.

Cadan seems to be really looking forward to returning to school. Me, not so much. He is just growing up too fast!

I can remember walking him around the kitchen when he was just a tiny little thing, telling him about the adventures that we would take. I remember how sweet it was to just be in his presence. I would lay him beside me on the couch, when I just wanted to hold him, because I had been warned of spoiling him. I so clearly remember those first little steps across our living room floor. Back then, I couldn't wait for the next milestone. Now, I dread reaching the next.

Watching them grow up is so hard to do. Loving them is so easy.

Up before the Sun... Again!

Yes, another very early morning for me. Carson fell asleep about 6 pm last evening, and woke at 4 am this morning. Sigh. I am sooooo tired.

Somehow, despite getting up so early, and not getting a nap, I was able to be productive yesterday. Steve and I managed to get almost all of the laundry washed and dried, and dumped into an unused crib in the unused baby's room. In other words, we have a whole lotta folding to do. The crib is full. We also were able to do a lot of cleaning in the main part of the house. It's nice to have a neater house. I won't say it is completely clean, we didn't get to the floors, but it is well on it's way.

I have really enjoyed watching Carson play by himself this morning. He is on the couch now playing with some sort of truck, saying "beep, beep, beep" as he drives it on the cushions. Kids are so different when they are alone versus in a group. My kids are almost always in a group, and Carson, being a typical 2 year old, in my experience anyway, does not like to share. He flat refuses to share his motorcycle toy. He will carry it around all day, clutched to his chest like it is made of precious metal. We have decided not to fight that battle any longer, and have instead told the other boys that the motorcycle belongs to Carson, and asked them to leave it alone. I know that this is probably not fair, but I have told them that they may choose a toy of their own to try to make it up to them. I have also reminded the big boys that they each have their own blankets that they carry around and no one is allowed to touch.

My Carson is such a beautiful boy. His brothers would correct me and say that instead he is handsome. He has a pile of dirty blond curls, fuzzy on top and tight in the back, that he twists into knots a couple of times a week with his sweet obsession with hair, he would twist mine into knots too if I would let him. I have not had his hair cut yet, at this point it is just barely long enough to cut. He has these green/brown eyes that sparkle like no other, and chubby little baby cheeks. In my eyes, which are admittedly biased, he looks just like a little angel.

Although, I am fully aware that he doesn't always act like an angel. He's two. Two is obviously a tough age. He is not a baby, yet still baby-ish. He still wears diapers or pull ups, he still takes his beloved be-be (aka pacifier). He has little tantrums that leave him kicking and screaming on the floor when we cannot understand him or satisfy his want of the moment. He is a big talker, with a heavy southern drawl. One and two syllable words are elongated to 3 or 4 syllables. The word house turns into hh-oww-oo-sss. It is about the most adorable thing I have ever heard, I love to just hear him talk. He is also a very good driver, he laps the house many times daily on his mini-Gator. He goes as fast as it will take him, skillfully avoiding obstacles like stumps, lawnmowers, and brothers.

Cars, as I call him about half the time, loves his brothers. Well, most of the time. He and Connor tend to tangle more than any of the rest of them. Being just days less than a year apart certainly contributes to their tangles. That, and they are both stubborn little boogers. Carson loves his Cadan the most, though, he calls him "Bubba." I strongly discouraged that for a long time, but in the end, it doesn't matter that much, and Cadan loves that Carson calls him that. I do too, it is like a term of endearment from little brother to big brother. Carson also does the role of big brother to Corbin very well. He calls him "Borby Ga-ga" and I have no idea where the ga-ga part came from. I bet Carson kissed his newborn baby brother 1000 times in the first week of his life. Now, he doesn't kiss him quite as much, but loves playing games of peek-a-boo and sharing cars, just not the motorcycle.

Carson tends to be more of a Daddy's boy these days, which is a little heart wrenching for me. When he was smaller, he wanted me or no one at all. I like to think he loved my cuddles and singing of lullabies, but truthfully, I had the longest hair for him to play with, and I let him do it, which Daddy would not. Now he dutifully follows his Daddy around, doing whatever Daddy asks. Major meltdowns happen when his Daddy goes anywhere without him. I don't know what it would be like if Steve ever went back to work.

Well, I could go on and on about my third little boy, I could go on and on about any of the four of them, but today Carson was really on my mind. As I said I was really enjoying watching him play by himself. Alas, though, that time is over, and Cadan and Corbin are now awake and about.

Early morning rambling

I am up really, really early today. I am enjoying some quiet time and some coffee. It's nice being up early without any real reason, although, I really probably regret it later today.

Steve and I want to have a "work day" today. The house is a mess and the laundry is piled up. Isn't every house like ours with 4 kids 5 years old and under?

We have some projects that we want to work on, too. We have decided to move the crib, which we rarely use, out of our bedroom, and move a second bed into our room. Now, we already have a queen size bed in our room, but those above mentioned children refuse to sleep in their own beds, so we are going to put a full size bed in there as well. There won't be too much room to move around, but hey, at least there will be room to sleep. As is is now, Steve ends up in the spare bedroom with no kids, and I end up in our room with all 4 of them.

Since his accident last May, he has been mostly sleeping in the spare bedroom anyway. At first it was because I was so pregnant, and he was is a cast and a sling. Then he had shoulder surgery in December, and again in January.

The other night, we tried to sleep together, with baby Corbin tucked snug between us. We weren't even asleep yet when Connor came into our room and wanted in "Mommy's pot," otherwise known as my spot in the bed. Soon after, Cadan comes and sleeps at the foot of the bed. Remember that this is just a queen size bed? Steve gave up at that point. He moved on to the spare bedroom, and the Carson came and took his place. Ahhh.... The days of undisturbed sleep are such a distant memory.

We are also preparing for a yard sale! We have massive amounts of stuff that we need to sale. Although, there are not a whole lot of baby clothes to sell, I have mostly given those away to my friends and family. We do have lots of house stuff, and I have a ton of clothes from my pre kid days. I wonder how much Steve is actually going to part with? He is such a pack rat!