Date Night

The last date Joe and I went on without children was over a year ago when we left Washington and meet up with some friends for dinner. I can't even remember before that when the last time was that just Joe and I went out, just the two of us. Far too long ago to say the least. In December William joined us in celebrating our 10 year wedding anniversary at a super fancy restaurant. He slept in his car seat and never made a peep. But still he was there. And it feels like less of a treat when you are on a date and you still can't hold hands, because someone is holding a car seat.

To say I'm excited for a date with my husband and NO children is a huge understatement. I need this date. I don't know why we don't do it more. I know it is vital to a healthy relationship. But we slip into those reasons of not having a babysitter, or not wanting to spend the money, or the kids are too young, blah blah blah. It's just excuses. The truth is, we're not putting each other first enough.

Last week I was preparing for my Relief Society lesson and I found a marriage book Joe and I got before we were married. I have been reading it again. I was shocked when I got to Chapter 10 titled The Middle Years. "The middle years are largely occupied with learning to deal with careers, changes in financial status, the responsibilities of assuming larger roles in church and society, and the increasing demands of children." Check, check, check and check. I still think of Joe and I as "newlyweds." It's hard to believe we've been married ten years. But then I'm reminded of a move to medical school for 4 years, a move to residency for 5 years and a move to Kansas with 4 little babies born in the midst of all that, and I can't believe it's only been 10 years.

As I read through the chapters describing the "marital meltdown" that occurs between 30-50 year olds who have been married more than a decade, I was comforted knowing that Joe and I are not melting down. Thanks goodness. I already knew that, but it's nice being reminded. What struck me though was the phrase "neglect of the marriage." I'm afraid we have fallen a bit into neglecting our marriage. We stand by one another through all we can. We devote so much time and energy together to our children, work, church and our home that we have forgotten to find those meaningful, alone moments as spouses.

So tonight, I will be dusting off my heels and earrings and I will be going on a date with my good looking husband. It can't come soon enough. And the truth is, for once, I won't even miss my children. Is that bad?

Bedheads and Blankets

Last night Gabs asked if she could see her blanket. You see, I took it away a few months ago. She's big enough now not to have her blanket to sleep with. So I made her quit cold turkey. I remember talking about a blanket intervention years ago, and we finally did it. So I washed it up, folded it nicely, and put it away for safe keeping. Overall, she handled it rather well. But, for some reason she asked for it last night, "just to feel and smell it" she said. Joe, of course, is such a softy, so he got up to get it for her. He came back downstairs afterwards and said he shed a little tear watching her see her blanket after so long. I guess she said, "I'm so happy right now, I think I might cry happy tears." Sweet girl. I had to run upstairs myself to witness the joy. I crawled into the top bunk to find her sitting criss cross applesauce hugging and smelling her blanket. She had such a look of peace and contentment on her face. She found her favorite corner (not hard seeing as it has a huge hole in it) and had it tucked right under her nose where it always once was. She thanked me for taking such good care of it while she didn't have it. I made her promise not to suck her thumb, which she informed me in a teenage sounding voice, "Moooommm, I broke that habit remember?" all the while still smiling with her blanket under her nose. What a cutie.

This morning all the kids where cuddled up on the couch watching Little Einsteins (the only thing we're allowed to watch with Henry around) under their blankets while I feed William. In a flash I realized how grateful I am that my children find comfort in the baby blankets I made each of them. I'm grateful that's all it takes when they are sad...just holding their blanket makes them feel better. I'm grateful that where ever we go in their first several years of life, they will always have the constant of their blanket. I know I will miss seeing their little blankets in a pile under the bar stools at breakfast. I will miss the way Gwen wraps it around her when she is cold. And the way Henry sleeps with his like it's a body pillow. I will miss tucking it around William like he's a little burrito, but I can't wait to see what quirky habits he develops with his.

After a bit of a tough mothering day yesterday, I was reminded again this morning how temporary everything is. I read something this weekend that said, "Good moms have sticky floors, dirty ovens and happy kids." I think if I keep that in mind, I won't look back over my life and feel like I missed these important years cleaning and doing laundry. I will be able to look back over these years and picture my little kids, with their perfectly adorable bed head and their filthy little blankets, enjoying life. And I will be satisfied because I will remember that I enjoyed it too. This picture makes me so happy! I love my job!

--A few of you asked about the pillows on my bed from a few posts back. I'm sorry to inform you that Manhattan Kansas is full of unbelievable shopping opportunities. There are some seriously quality places to shop around here in the home decor category. I found these babies at the rare, quaint, one of a kind store-Bed, Bath and Beyond. Go figure! I hope that doesn't lessen the appeal. :)

Little Children

I think I was with my sister in law when she said something to the effect, that as parents, we only know our children as children for a few short years. The rest of the time we spend knowing them as adults. It has really stuck with me, because I suppose I had never looked at it this way before. I figure because my children will always be mine, then they will always be children. But the truth is, they are growing closer to being an adult everyday. Which means, I sadly realized, they are growing further and further away from being children. (Did anyone follow that, because I just read it again, and I'm not sure I even followed..and I wrote it!)

What I have been left thinking about is how quickly we are all going through life. How all too soon, my babies will be all grown up and moving along at lightening speed in every direction imaginable. How very shortly the children I have will no longer be "children." I sometimes wish I were in The Truman Show and someone was recording my life for me, so I could always look back and see my babies.

Right now, I want to remember Henry's stick straight blonde hair, and the one dimple over his right cheek. I want to remember his hysterical laugh when he is getting tickled. And the "fake laugh" he does when other kids are laughing and he wants to be like them. I want to remember the way he asks for "mo milk" and how he can't go to sleep without his blanket and Mickey Mouse. His favorite movie right now is Tangled. He could watch it 7 times in a row and never get tired of pretending to lift lanterns into the air. I want to remember the way he snuggles in my arms when we read stories and how his hair smells of sweat and watermelon shampoo. I will remember his obsession with cars and how he doesn't let anyone ride on his John Deer tractor.

I suppose I will remember all those things. But I'm just afraid no matter what I do I'll get wrapped up in life and forget to enjoy all those things every second. I go to bed at night sometimes thinking over my day and kicking myself for not playing more with my kids, or talking to them as much as I think I should. I'm here doing everything for them, every second. They are right here with me every second of the day. But still, I feel guilty about something every night. I pray to do better. I pray to enjoy the journey and enjoy these precious years. I know they will be gone all too soon. I wish I knew a better way to stay focused on all the important things and forget about everything that doesn't matter. And above all, I wish that my children could comprehend even a fraction of my love for them. I don't think they have any idea the enormity of my love for them. I promise children, I love you more than tongue can tell.

Bragging Rights

*Warning: I'm going to brag about my husband. You are welcome to skip right over this post. Trust me, I understand.*

Joe is the only ENT here. Which means he is very busy. He prefers to be busy though. He'd lose his mind if he had a bunch of time on his hands. He is actually the busiest surgeon at the hospital. Alone, by himself, he saw 30% more patients this last year, then the next closest surgical department. Which means he is seeing more patients than two or three doctors combined. He is great at what he does. And on top of that, he really takes pride in his work and loves what he does.

He became the celebrity doctor the other day at the hospital when a patient that "seemed to be fine" in the ER suddenly wasn't able to breath. She had some swelling in her throat and went from doing fine to gasping for breathes (I wish I could remember the technical term, but of course I'm drawing a blank.) She had swelling in her throat that was causing a blockage of her air way, resulting in suffocation. Her oxygen levels were dropping rapidly. The Anesthesiologist was unable to get in a breathing tube and was making the inflammation worse. Joe did an emergency tracheotomy while the patient was awake in the OR and got her stable again. It was a job well done in a very scary situation. (At least I was scared while he was telling me, but of course, Joe was calm as a cucumber and never got worried. He's pretty confident.) But I was awfully proud of him.

That same week he participated in his promotion ceremony and became a Major in the US Army. It was great to have the whole family there and put those bars on his uniform and hear the words that the chief of surgery had to say about him.

Joe always down plays his accomplishments. He doesn't make a big deal out of his 98% board scores. Or the fact that people tell him that he's the smartest person they know. I think he is a genius. And I'm just really proud of my husband. He does what needs to be done without complaint. He is not afraid of working hard and amazes me day by day. I love you Joe. Thank you for being perfect for me. I am one lucky lady.

Boys Will Be Boys

I've been getting a little flack from a few friends who have noticed that Henry has some nail polish on his fingernails. If you ask Henry about it, he'll proudly show you the red on his nails and the glitter on his toes. I'll admit it. I painted his fingernails. The girls and I were doing ours nice and red for 4th of July and Henry wasn't going to be left out. So I took the brush and quickly dabbed, dabbed, dabbed a little red across each nail on his chubby hands. That was all he wanted. I didn't sit there and paint them to perfection like I did for the girls. Just a little dot on each nail to make him feel a part of things. He was thrilled with that. What's the big deal?

This wasn't the first time I've painted his nails. I'm sure it won't be the last either. I'll admit to letting him take one of the girls baby dolls to bed at nap time when he can't seem to part with it. So what if he wants to wear the fairy wings when the girls bring out the dress ups? I'm okay that he likes the pink Sleeping Beauty high heels. They do make a fun noise on wood floors.

I guess I could feel bad about doing these things. Some may. But regardless of what I have allowed in the "girly department", Henry is as boy as they come. I don't worry for a second. Everything can be used as a gun. No matter what he's holding, he will still point it at you and shoot you with it. It makes Gwen cry every time. And even when he has nothing in his hands, he can still turn around in his chair and race his fingers along the back as a race car. Anything he finds can be turned into something with a motor. Even in church, when we have no toys, he still makes racing noises. I can't tell him to hush, because he'll rev the engine and make it louder and faster.

And from the moment Joe walks in the door, there is tackling and wrestling. When Henry gets real excited and is overcome with joy about something, he likes to punch you with a huge smile stretched across his face. Like "men" do, you know? He's rough and tumble. He can fall hard, wipe out, scrap his knees, bump his head, and not shed a tear. When he does cry though, all he wants is a hug.

I guess my point is, boys will be boys. My family sure is filling up with them. I love the three of them with all my heart. Even with red fingernails.