i couldn't have known and it wouldn't have mattered

I know I have given Joseph his fair share of blog-tention, and the girls may end up having blog-complexes about him being the blog-favorite, (but I am still holding out hope that they will never ever discover this e-space, so there is that). I was perusing the blog archives to see if I had potentially posted anything on this very day last year-- a favorite blog-pastime of mine-- and I this is what I found, I'll just give you the screen shot of the part I'm being all introspective about, because that's more fun:

I always love tapping into my overly emotional, nostalgic side with the blog, in fact it is one of my favorite parts of having it, and so here I go, comparing that post from this exact day last year with how things are now. Let's do a little point by point comparison:

+ Then- I was ready not to be pregnant. Now- of course now I'm already ready for another gestation (NOT pregnant that I know of)

+ Then- I was angry that I was still pregnant. Now- having very vivid memories of how hard those last weeks of pregnancy are to cool my baby feverish self

+ Then- Feeling clueless about the prospect of having a boy. Now- hoping to only ever have boys from here on out (only kind of kidding)

+ Then- Excitement over having a boy. Now- read above.

+ Then- Impatient urge for him to be here. Now- read above.

+ Then- Terror at the thought of taking care of 4. Now- I can't remember what it was like only having 3, or 2, or 1.

+ Then- Joy and gratitude at all the blessings. Now- SAME.

+ Then- Sadness that it's not just me and the girls. Now- I literally can't remember how it was before Joe. So weird.

All in all, this year has been a crazy whirlwind: his birth 3 weeks early, followed by his extended stay in the NICU, with a chaser of a scare for me in the ER, a more colicky baby then I was ready for and then being sidelined by some really rough postpartum issues-- and that was only in the first few months of his life. By the time he was 5 months old everything had done a total 180 degree turn-- he was the jolliest little guy ever, sleeping much better, and my postpartum craziness was cooling off a bit. But it's no wonder that I can't remember anything before him.

Never could I ever have anticipated all that was to come, regardless of my overly-emotional attempts and huge amounts of blog-venting. I certainly never thought it was going to be as hard for me as it was, but knowing would not have mattered because in the end I would be in the same place I am now. I would have needed to rely on our Lord and on Mike and other support systems just as much as I did. I would have come out on the other end just the same as I am now, and I would be just as in love with Joe as ever and wanting more babies even more, no matter how hard it all is.

And as for whether he would make it to his 1st birthday without being dressed up like a little lady, I will refer you to this screen shot from the Grams of him at 3.5 months old, all dressed in a purple Rapunzel dress with bows on his head.

He gets no cash from me.

the "virtue" of showing up

I don't know whether it's the fatigue brought on so many aspects of motherhood, or the fact that I am a woman whose attitude is all-too dictated by my various hormonal states, but some days-- not all the days, but some of them-- can feel so crushing.

It's no one thing, and it doesn't even have to be anything that is legitimately, inherently difficult: pouring a bowl of cereal, reading a short story book, answering my phone, SMILING, doesn't matter-- some days each and everything thing that I am asked to do feels like a 1000 pound weight on my back and takes every ounce of energy for me to do.

And on those days while I go through the motions of this vocation, straining so hard to just do the simplest things, the guilt begins to build up about the fact that I am not being cheerful, that I don't seem like I want to be doing this, that my gratitude is not palpable. I really wrestle with that guilt and then it starts to compound how hard everything already feels. And why? Why do I feel guilty? I am here, I am doing what I am asked to do, I am showing up.

The problem is that "just showing up" has gotten a really bad rap. We're told as mothers that we should "thriving!" that we should be "all in, all the time!", and yes, I totally agree that we should strive for those things-- strive to thrive, strive to be all in. However, in the mean time, while we mothers of many little ones trudge through these trenches, there will be days that will feel totally crushing, and all that we will be able to do is show up and do what we're asked to do-- and there is nothing about this that should be guilt inducing, it is absolutely OK to just show up.

To be clear-- I am not talking here about doing things with anger or with a bitter or resentful attitude, which would be actually sinful, but simply not being a ball of cheer and not being-- or even trying to fake being-- into it. This job is the hardest there is, and yet no matter how much I tell myself that, or how much other people tell me that, I still let guilt over not doing it perfectly dominate so many of my days.

Pressure abounds in every direction to put a cheerful face on everything, I have resolved to do it myself: to make this motherhood thing not look as incredibly difficult as it is, and I think that this is the ideal, this is what I hope will be the rule and not the exception for me one day. But for right now these incredibly difficult days come more frequently than the easy ones, and on the really rough ones, just showing up is actually me fulfilling the duties of  my vocation as best I can.

On the really hard days, everything in my being wants to check out, call in sick, to not show up at all. So not only should I not feel guilty for only showing up, I should feel triumphant about it. I am here! I am doing it! Yes I am pouring the bowl of cereal as if my arm is made of steel and the box is a 50 pound weight, and yes, my face may look like someone just ran over my kitten, but I am pouring it. I am changing the diapers, I am wiping the bottoms, I am even reading the story book, albeit with a voice akin to Ben Stein in the eye drop commercials, but I am reading it.

During this season of my life, even the "easy" days are full of very trying moments, and no day is without it's fair share of opportunities to be heroic in virtue. But maybe showing up is its own "virtue" during this season, maybe it doesn't need to be a smile while changing a diaper, or doing all the funny voices in the story that express my gratitude for these many blessings, maybe some days just showing up and doing those things is enough.

Developing and Nurturing Friendships {as a wife and mom}

I hate advice-giving posts, but friendship is something that has really been on my mind lately, for reasons that I'll get to below, so indulge me this post please? Thanks. Correct me if I'm wrong (for real, I might be wrong!), but it seems like one of the hardest things about transitioning from single life to life as a wife and mother is making good friends.

I am a serious extrovert, and I need friends-- I mean I NEED friends. I need to see people on a regular basis, but I especially need a couple good friends, or even just one good lady friend who I feel comfortable just sitting with like I would sit with my sisters. I think that this is a really important thing for every woman, whether she realizes it or not, and I think that as hard as it can be, it is important to work toward.

A couple of years ago my closest friend, Marisa, moved away because her husband got a job. Our girls were very close and we were very close and it was really hard.

The curse of a community made up of grad students is that no one is here permanently, but everyone is here just long enough to get really close to them, and there are so many wonderful people to be friends with! After Marisa moved, I became really close with another wonderful lady named Sarah, and now I'm in the same boat I was in a couple years ago because- of course- she and her beautiful family are moving very far away and naturally just typing that sentence induced many tears.

While I am intensely sad that she is leaving, I don't feel the same kind of anxiety over the friend situation that I used to both because of this ideal community and because after 7 years of making friends, nurturing those relationship, and saying goodbye to so many friends, I am finally starting to feel comfortable with the process.

I am not a social expert by any means, but here are a few things that I have learned over the years:

1) Adjusting your exceptions will only serve to help you. When we first moved here, I was only one year out of college and found myself immediately only seeking out the type of friends that I had in college. Those friends were wonderful, but it didn't take long to learn that my new vocation would connect me with women with very different personalities and temperaments than those college friends and they would also be wonderful. Sticking with an arbitrary *idea* of the type of person I wanted to be friends with was just not something that was helping me, and as soon as I let it go, it got much easier. I ended up befriending so many great ladies in our first year here that I probably never would have hung out with in college- and many of those friendships I will have for the rest of my life.

2) Comfort zones can be traps. There are countless memories that I have of Mike telling me to "just send an email to her!". I would tell him about someone I met and got along with, and how I thought we could be friends, but then I wouldn't do anything about it, which usually resulted in very long lags between seeing any friends at all, but if I had just sent the email or made the call, I could have. I don't know if it's the case that children simply rob you of anything resembling a "comfort zone", but I don't even feel like I have one anymore and it's become much easier for me to initiate friendships and respond to others initiating them. I've had some really great friendships grow out of a quick swapping of info and setting up a play date-- sometimes it's really awkward, but most of the time it's entirely natural.

3) Parenting styles can be a total non-issue, if you let them be. This one is hard, especially if the majority of your interactions take place when you have all of your kids with you. I feel like I am notoriously the ultra-strict parent about a lot of things, but then I'm the one who lets her kids eat the most crap- and I imagine that is weird for my friends who are more laid back about the stuff I'm disciplining about and who don't want me loading their kids up with copious graham crackers. But you'll notice that neither of those things have much to do with lots of bonding elements in a friendship-- things like faith, political or personal interests, books you like, movies you watch, all sorts of things that you can chat about without even touching on the minutia of parenting. It means letting things slide when you're doing a play date, and not imposing your parenting style on others, and it means not letting it bother you if you don't do things the way your friends do-- this can be hard, but it's possible. Which brings me to the next one.

4) Hanging out when the kids are NOT around is the best thing ever. This is something I have started doing a whole lot more as more kids have come and as the older ones have gotten bigger. Play dates can feel so chaotic once each mom has more than 2 kids, and the big ones tend to dominate with their size and volume level, which makes any real conversation between mothers more challenging.
Case in crazy point:

Good and sweet, but also crazy and hard sometimes.
The solution? Margarita nights! Dessert and tea nights! My friend Sarah and I generally squeeze one night in a week when just the two of us get together after the kids are down-- it is super laid back, there is no other intention other than talking and connecting without constant conversation interruptions, and I would say it has been the best thing for our friendship, I am really going to miss it.

5) Staying away from gossip and/or husband bashing is only ever a good thing. Call me Captain Obvious, but I still think it is worth mentioning, because it is always a temptation and never good for a friendship.

These are a few things I have learned and I am learning more all the time about this. I am not looking forward to the challenge of doing this in a whole new place, with lots of new people when it comes time for us to move on too, but share your wisdom with me! Then I can come back and learn even more!

let's talk about sleep, baby

So sorry for the inappropriate bad 90's song allusion, I couldn't help myself.

We are fast approaching a year since Joseph's birth, and there are a few things I have been wanting to add to the blog, not for any purpose other than for posterity's sake, but if perhaps you find yourself in a similar boat, it may prove helpful- or at least exist for commiserations' sake.

The first of the things is most and least exciting thing ever to blog about- sleep!

I wrote a post when Lucy was a baby about how tired I was, and how it was "all ok", and looking back I have had to chuckle a little at myself.

(if you caught the Office reference you win 5 Stanley Nickles)

I was pregnant when I wrote that post, and pregnancy fatigue is a type in its own class. I was definitely legit tired, but the thing that was absent from that post is the utter importance of sleep, and the heights of sleep loss that can literally turn a woman's world upside down. I didn't pay any attention to that because I had never actually experienced that level of sleep deprivation, and then Joseph was born.

I hope to blog later in the summer about some of the nitty gritty of the postpartum anxiety and depression that I experienced after Joe's birth-- and I will leave the details for later-- but looking back on the ordeal I can now say with perfect confidence that it was sleep loss and sleep loss alone that was to blame for the bulk of the mental difficulties I was experiencing.

Hormones are a major B after birth, and I know in the case of many women that is all it takes to send them into a tail spin of postpartum depression, but FOR ME, the trigger was the sleep.

I had 4 kids- I had done this 3 other times, I just kept telling myself that I had done this before and that I could cope. And maybe I could have coped if Joseph had been like my other new born babies and at least given me 2 hour stretches of sleep each night, but he wasn't and he didn't.

I existed for 3 months on barely more than 1 (maybe 2, if I got lucky) hours of sleep before he woke up screaming, and some nights it would only be 20 minute stretches. He had more digestive issues than my other babies, and would not even sleep in bed next to me, which was my coping mechanism with Bernadette and Lucy. I should have recognized that this was a different situation and called on Mike, who would have been more than happy to step in for help, but I just kept trying to manage on my own.

Finally the flu hit me in October, when Joseph was about 2.5 months old and I had to give in-- I pumped a bottle and gave him to Mike for a night and slept, but only because I had a high fever and the shakes and aches and I really had no choice. Once the flu left I went back to being the one up with Joe every night but it within a few weeks, the anxiety and depression that had been building up over those few months of next to no sleep started to spiral out of control.

I couldn't think straight, I couldn't control my thoughts, and it just kept getting worse and worse. Mike recognized that the sleep loss was taking its toll, and strongly urged me to either pump or get some formula so that I could get more sleep-- both of which we did a couple times a week for a while. Formula was hard on Joseph's already sensitive stomach and I was having trouble with my milk supply and having enough milk to pump during the day to give him at night.

Mike helping me out a few nights a week would give me a short respite and I would see an improvement immediately in how I was feeling. However, Mike had to work and couldn't take him every night, and as soon as my body went back to functioning on barely any sleep, I would go right back to the same depressed and anxious state I was previously in.

We had one terrible Sunday where I could barely breathe all the way through Mass, I had panic attack after panic attack and after Mass we made the decision that it was time to make major changes during the night so that consistent sleep could be gotten and we could get on top of things.

That night we started to sleep train Joseph (aka, cry it out) and within a few days he was sleeping for 4, 5 or even 6 hour stretches. I remember meeting my counselor for the first time a few days before we started sleep training Joseph and being a total basket-case and within the first week of sleep training things had changed to drastically that at my appointment only one week later I was an entirely different person. I am sure the medicine I had just gotten on was at least having a placebo effect, but it general takes several weeks to get into a persons' system and work, and I had only been on it for one week, so I was fairly confident that it was primarily the sleep.

This is NOT an endorsement of sleep training, this is not me saying that cry-it-out is the way to go-- CIO is what worked for us and it is what we needed to do to function and survive. This is me endorsing sleep for moms and encouraging moms to do whatever they need to do to get as much sleep as they can.

Obviously as mothers a certain degree of sleep deprivation is expected, and we learn to live with less sleep-- before becoming a mother I never could have survived on a two 3 hour stretches of sleep, but now I can. What I have learned through this experience is that I have a bare minimum amount of sleep that I need to function, and without which everything starts to fall apart.

If you're a mom going through something similar, the only thing I would actually recommend is not to take it lightly, but to really value your own physical health and your body's true need for sleep.

If cry-it-out is not for you, then maybe pumping and giving your husband a bottle is. If pumping is too hard or you don't have the milk supply during the day for it (as was the case for me), buy a can of formula and know that your baby will be fine and you will be a better person too. If your baby will sleep better next to you in bed and you will get some extra sleep that way- then DO IT!

This was one of those real life lessons for me, one that left enough of an impression that I felt the need to e-log it for future Ana. I feel sure that I would have had to get help for my postpartum issues either way, but I do not think that things would have gotten as out of control as they did if it weren't for the extreme sleep loss, and I hope they never will again.

But then if they do, there's always sleep training ;)

fighting the battle of naps

Wow, is she really doing it? Is she really going to pen an entire post on her baby and his bad napping and post it to the world wide web?

Without shame.

Cue slow boring elevator music.

It's just that I am here again at this place where the baby naps for little 20 minute chunks throughout the day and, just like I did when I only had one nugget napping, I am all in a tizzy over it. I mean, I will give myself a little credit and say that the adult-sized tantrums I used to throw over my ONE child not napping during the day so that could, I don't know, sweep our kitchen and rid it of the 3 crumbs that Mike I and had dropped at dinner the night before have ceased.

I can cope with there not being a break during the day, mostly because we have a fixed bed time and Joseph hits the sac by 7:30 every single night and gives me at least a few hours before I need to hang out with him some more.

The problem is that he is not coping great. He is so tired! As he gets older I keep hoping and praying that maybe he will get into a better nap rhythm (i.e. ANYTHING longer than 25 minutes at a time), but yesterday 2 of his naps clocked in at TEN MINUTES a piece, which was a record and I had gone over my mental expletive limit because of it (what is my limit, you ask? A lot).

See the main problem, among may others, is this:

You see that swing he is sitting in back when he was 2 weeks old? Yes, he still sleeps in that thing as a 20 pound 8-month-old. He was our first colicky baby and it was a really helpful soothing technique that I just never forced out of his life.

Some people have drug addictions, some people need their coffee fix every day, some people can't stop shopping or need to watch afternoon soap operas every day, and Joseph has is swing. He just can't quit it.

I am trying really hard to begin the weaning process, but I have never had a swing sleeper before and it is totally throwing me. Trying to get him down for an afternoon nap sans swing has taken up an hour and fifteen minutes, but an afternoon nap IN the swing? 2 minutes flat and he is out like a light.

But then there is the issue- which I am pretty sure has no solution whatsoever- and that is his pretty consistent 20 minute sleep duration, regardless of where he is sleeping. I am totally ok with being a mean mom and letting him "fuss" himself to sleep, but the ratio of screaming to sleeping (something like 60 minutes to 20 minutes) is never worth it.

You know how I am a big "Rest Time" Nazi, and I will always enforce it because I be crazy like that and I need a tiny bit of sanity time to sit and stare at the wall. But everyday- without fail- "rest time" goes a little something like this:

- Take an eternity nursing Joseph to sleep or give up and get him to sleep in the swing.
-Run like a mad man to get Lucy down, rush through a quick book with her, rock and sing and lay her down (roughly a 6-7 minute process)
- Give Bernadette books on tape in her room (3 minute process)
- Yell downstairs to Naomi to have "have a good rest time" (1 minute)
- grab a cup of Keurig coffee (4 minutes)
- Sit for 4.5 minutes
- Hear Joseph screaming and go get him

And for pictoral proof, here are the many selfies I've snapped during what is supposed to be my short respite spent every day with the J- Man:

It's good quality time, and I actually enjoy it, until in his overly exhausted state he demands that I walk around the house holding his hefty dead weight else he will screech angry screeches sure to disturb the other napping one, which would be the very worst.

I know I've made my proverbial bed and now I need to sleep in it, or sit awake in it whilst holding him, but there must be something I can do to reverse all my bad habit making.

So what do I do? Give me advice that I will probably stink at taking because I am so, so weak. Please help me, after you're done helping the people in your life that have legitimate problems, because I am very aware that this is NOT one.

they're killing me

Once upon a time I was a 25-year-old mother to 2 babies 19 months old and 3 weeks old. The shock of all that had just happened-- birthing yet another human via a major abdominal surgery and the fact that in real life your mom and mother-in-law aren't live-in nannies-- had just hit me.

After I had Naomi I had thought to myself (and maybe yelled once at Mike) that there was NO WAY! we could have more kids- this was just too hard! But then when Naomi was a geriatric 9-month-old I became pregnant and cried and worried and rejoiced and another baby came.

But now it was serious. 2 babies who needed me allllllll the time, one a newborn who could not be counted on to sleep through the night or nap at a scheduled time and by the end of most days I was crying and telling Mike over and over again that we would have to wait a LONG time before we did this again. I needed a break. I needed hours, or even one hour, to myself.

Me time- where was it? I needed it bad. Finally when Bernadette was an older baby I got my nap time back, they both had a bed time and I could breath again. I still wanted a little more of a break between babies so I could bask in some of the rare but needed attention to myself, to keep off the baby weight a little longer, but mostly to gain some much needed virtue before subjecting another person to my short temper and self centered tendencies.

I remember confiding in my spiritual director that I could not imagine having any more kids until I became a better person. I am not sure if he said this or not, but I remember thinking to myself that maybe bearing and rearing children was the very thing that would help me to be a better person. Now 2 more kids later I think I am beginning to see that this is entirely true for me.

Since Joseph's birth I've said the words "you're killing me!" at least a thousand times to the kids during the day. Nap times no longer exist and 1 o'clock rolls around and I have been taking care of a baby and a toddlers and homeschooling the older ones and I feel like I am done, but Joseph needs to be held and rocked because he's fussy and sick- "you're killing me", I tell him as I kiss him.

Lucy is a 2-year-old who is difficult to understand but turns to high pitched screaming if she doesn't get the thing she was requesting that I didn't give her because I couldn't hear what she was saying- the screaming starts, my heart rate sky rockets, and I declare to her that she is "killing me!". Naomi and Bernadette get in another screaming hitting fight over which one gets into the car first, I settle it, get in the driver's seat and bury my exhausted face in my hands and whisper "Lord, they are killing me".

And they are. They are killing me. They are killing the old Ana who could not imagine not having 2-3 hours in the day to whatever she wanted to do, the Ana who was SURE she could never handle a baby with colic, the Ana who needed at least 8 hours of sleep every night. They're killing the Ana loving Ana and even though it is harder than I ever thought it would be, I couldn't be happier about it.

 It is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. (Gal 2:20) 

I can only pray that a tiny bit of what Saint Paul was talking about is happening to me through this vocation, through these beautiful, redeeming crosses called children, which I attempt to happily and lovingly take up daily.

it's ok to want more... kids

Have I ever mentioned that I am the 5th of 8 kids? Well I am, and as a true middle child I get fairly insecure pretty fast and have a hard time not measuring myself against what others are doing. For this reason it's been especially difficult as a stay-at-home mother, with no other job, part- or full-time, to tell people that this is all I do. The fact is that nowadays, it seems really weird to tell someone that you stay at home with your children as your full time job and do nothing on the side. I feel like up until now I have always admitted it with a sort of air that indicated I would rather be doing something else, or will be pursuing something else once the kids are in school or independent to the point where I could also work on the side.

But I have a confession to make:

This is all I want to do, and as long as we can make ends meet with me not working any job other than caring for the kids, my husband, and home, this is all I want to do and all I am going to ever do.

Does this make me lazy or unmotivated? Are Mike and kids brainwashing me and suppressing all of my other, more important and vital desires? No and NO! During manageable seasons of life I really try to limit screen-time, and with homeschooling, having all 4 at home all the time is a far cry from the bonbon-eating, soap-opera-watching image of a lazy, unmotivated house wife. Yes, I have hobbies on the side, and that is super important, but those hobbies don't make me any money and I have no intention of turning them into money-makers. I've had a couple--literally, like 2--people tell me that I should sell in an etsy shop the stuff that I sew, and while I am totally flattered that they think my sewing would be buyer-worthy (I've really fooled them), I have to admit that I have absolutely no desire to do so. I have one full time job, which encompasses my husband, home, and children, and anything else would only be a distraction for me from this job.

Maybe I'm wrong-- and I really might be-- but it feels like it is way more socially acceptable, in all circles, to be a woman with other goals, desires, and hopes than just those centering around the home. In this day and age, having children seems like the thing you for this small window of time and then you move on to more important things, the things you had a desire for the entire time you were having kids, but couldn't do.

But what if this--this having kids and being a housewife thing--is the only thing I have a desire for and the only thing I want to do with my pre-menopause life? What if, for these years, I don't want more of anything except children?

Well, the conclusion that I've come to is that that is totally ok, even good, and that I shouldn't feel shame about it, and neither should you if this applies to you. Maybe we're not beyond the point where mothers who work outside the home feel at least a little insecure about it, but that situation seems much more the norm than moms who stay-at-home and do nothing else. And from my experience, it's something the working moms feel proud of. And they should! I can't imagine juggling all my home tasks and another job of any kind. A lot of moms that I know stay at home but have other work on the side that they do as well, and that is wonderful and amazing and impressive. They are helping to provide for their families because they need to--some of them would rather not be doing those other jobs, others of them need it for their sanity and are fulfilling good, God-given desires, and again that is good.

I know that I vent about the difficulties here on the blog, and they're real, but I am so grateful for so many undeserved blessings: the husband and children I've been given, the opportunity to spend so much time with them, the gift of my fertility, and the peace I feel with my life in the home (when I'm not feeling like I'm about to lose my mind).

I pray that I have many, many years left of being able to bear children, to continue to grow my family, and to raise kids who will hopefully give glory to God and one day be with Him in heaven. I do have a desire for more--more of the most difficult and grueling job I have ever had: I want more kids. I pray that it is God's will for our family to continue to grow. Otherwise, I may just find myself out of a job ;)

Get Behind Me, Monday

While I know the biblical allusion of this post title is a tad dramatic (so unlike me, right?!), I think it is safe to say that Monday is the worst.

I should have known that my "Imma crush you, Monday" attitude on Sunday night was an ominous foreshadowing of the day to come, but I was foolish and just thought it was going to be an awesome day. I decided Sunday night to start making to-do lists again- and I hate making lists- mostly because I am feeling the psychological effects of this 4th baby even more than the physical effects, i.e. I can't even remember my kids names most of the time, and absolutely cannot remember to scrub the shower that hasn't been touched for, um, never mind that detail, and I forget at least 14 things I HAD to get every single time I grocery shop, so yes, lists need to happen. I even got a jump start on my list and wrote out my embarrassingly late Christmas thank you notes during the super bowl and had them in the mail ready for the Monday post (I'm saying "post" now, all the cool kids are).

But no amount of lists or positive thinking could prepare me for Monday, and there's really no reason for that other than the nature of Monday and all its Mondayness. I mean, the fact that I decided to jump on Nell's "No Sugar 30 train" did not help, especially since scarfing down left over Sunday waffles slathered with nutella happens to be my all time favorite coping mechanism on a rough day. And the fact that I had written a list Sunday night meant that "scrub the upstairs shower" was staring me in the face taunting me so that I couldn't use the "oops! I forgot" excuse at bedtime yet again-- I had to do it, and it was horrible.

I will not spend more than one extra long sentence complaining about it, but Joseph's naps are the worst, the very worst naps, in all of napdom and he is so lucky he is such a sweet bundle of baby cuteness, otherwise we'd be on bad terms. Lucy was 6 days post-surgery yesterday but managed to be the most difficult she has been since the operation, and I couldn't really blame her since the whole ordeal messed with her little digestive system causing some major no-pooping-for-almost-a-week-issues, which I am sure she'll thank me for sharing with you all when she's 30. You're welcome, sweetie.

Regardless, 5 p.m. saw me sipping the only clear liquor I could find in the house, really cheap gin with a splash of lime juice, while Lucy screamed and flailed on the kitchen floor and I waited for Mike to come home and go back out again to clear the driveway full of roughly 3 feet of snow from last weekend's storm.

7:30 bedtime could not have come soon enough.

The great thing about a Monday like yesterday is that Tuesday barely has to do anything to outshine it, and this Tuesday has donned bright and clear with its promise of not being Monday. It helps that Joseph slept his first ever full night of sleep last night, 11 hours to be exact (6 months be da bomb!!). Lucy is a different child today and not even her complete baptism of our living room floor in Keifer smoothie could bring me down. And to top it all off, Tuesday just happens to be BABYSITTER DAY! Joseph and I have mammoth plans to venture out to Costco, which will be my first time out of the house- other than Mass and a quick Liquor store run- since Lucy's surgery, the sample people better get ready for a stranger all too excited to converse.

Thank you, Tuesday for not being Monday, you are the best.

7 Quick Takes: tonsils, breast milk, and more!

Greetings fellow winter shut-ins! How about some blog therapy with Kelly since the only humans I've seen this week have been inside the confines of my house or at a doctor's office? K, here we go.

1) Lucy bid her tonsils and adenoids farewell (and some tubes moved into her ears) on Tuesday and is finally maybe starting to seem not entirely scarred from the whole ordeal. She did really well with the surgery, but she just seemed like she hated me for the first 2 days after, probably for bringing her to what she thought was going to be a doctors appointment with a "nap" (pre-surgery pictures, total ignorance)

And bringing her home in the worst pain she's ever felt. Confused would be the understatement of the year, some serious processing has had to happen this week in her highly drugged up brain, but I think we're making strides.

2) I mean, we did explain it to her, but she's 2 and her understanding of various medical lingo and practices is limited, like most 2-year-olds. The result of the explanation was her being fairly positive that the surgery was happening in her bedroom, which I surmised from her constantly walking into her bedroom saying "ok, we go to have surgery now". It was really cute but also really sad for me since I knew exactly what was about to hit her.

3) I cried like a little baby when I had to hand her to a rather creepy nurse with the thickest black eyeliner I've seen in a while who carried her back to be anesthetized. Why won't they just let the mom be there for that? It was the handing her off to a stranger while she bawled and reached for me and the "AUTHORIZED MEDICAL PERSONNEL" door closed as she was carried off down the long hallway that really got both of us. Then I realized that she had forgotten her precious "piglet blanket" and I frantically ran around while crying to find a nurse who could go back to give it to her before she went under. It was not one of my classiest moments, but motherhood will do that to you.

4) Luckily Mike's amazing mother came in town for the first few days, which was so helpful. The older girls happen to be the least helpful little 4 and 5 year-olds around- ok maybe not the least, but certainly not the most by any stretch. I thought reading them Little House would help with that, or at least make them want to be more helpful like Laura and Mary, but it is not. SO instead they got to bake a valentines day cake and make crafts and have outings and do fun things,

while their sister suffered in the glow of the ipad and copious netflix.

Life is really not hard enough for them, I tell you.
I'm thinking of starting to churn our own butter just to give them a difficult job to do every day.

5) Have you every tried Brewer's Yeast to boost milk production? I am talking to you, and you, and you. Anyone? Does it work? I hope so because I just bought a honkin tub of it in the hope that it will help since the nightly "Guinness to help with nursing" happens to not be helping at all with "taming the postpartum pooch and the pants buttoning" thing.

6) Have you ever read any reviews on Amazon by Roger Pervich? Some of the best stuff on the web, hands down. Read them all!! And Roger, if you're reading, how about a review of Brewer's Yeast for milk production? I think we need it.

7) Get your projects ready because another "Cabin Fever Creativity Link-Up" is coming for you, hopefully this week.

While this may seem like a totally unrelated picture, my sister made that little hat for Joseph and I am a tad obsessed.

the most exciting quick takes ever (or not)

Joining Kelly for some quick takes, anything to stop the VLOG from being the first thing you see when you come here, I should have posted way earlier this week for that purpose. Sorry!

Things have been all excitement over here at the Hahn casa, let me fill you in. (When I say "excitement" I mean the "Johnny just had his first peepee on the potty!!", or "Mary just puked farther than any of our kids have ever puked! 3 whole feet!!" type of excitement, nothing genuinely exciting).

1) This is not actually "exciting" as much as it is "terrifying", but it's news and it's out of the ordinary for us, so I'll share. I took Lucy to a specialist earlier this week and the doctor took one look inside her mouth and exclaimed "oh wow, those tonsils have to come out now!". Anyone who knows Lucy can tell that something is a little off right away with her heavy duty mouth breathing, muffled voice and always congested nose. You know when she is coming into a room just from her breathing and her snoring is pretty impressive for a 2-year-old. I knew they would say we should do it some time soon, but I did not think I would have to schedule it ASAP, but I did, so a week from Tuesday little Lucy will have the first surgery of the Hahn children.

Regardless of the fact that it's outpatient, she has to go under, so I'm kind of freaking out. Plus, the recovery is 1-2 weeks- WEEKS- during which time I will likely be spiking all my cups of coffee with some form of liquor. Speak words of comfort to me, oh kind comforting friends!

2) On a much, MUCH brighter note, and one that is legit "Exciting":

The Tiny Sleep Tyrant Joseph did his first ever OVER 7 HOUR stretch of sleep last night. I am still wracking my brain to make sure I didn't sleep walk through a feeding because it seems so very absurd and entirely out of character for the boy who has woken me up no less than 2 times every night of his little life and most of the time more like 3-6 times. My body was in shock as it remembered it's long lost love, Sleep, but I coached it down to ensure it would not be expecting a repeat any time soon, I know better than to get my hopes up too high just yet.

3) Our family has now joined the ranks of bulk buyers with the purchase of our first ever Costco membership. On our first trip to the Fortress of Food we were enjoying a dinner of hot dogs and pizza when Noami asked me what it meant to be members there, to which I responded that "Costco owned our souls". I did not think anyone was listening, but a lady next to us obviously was and let out a hearty chuckle and I immediately let Naomi know I was only kidding- but was I? Seriously, that place sucks you in like a black hole, only it's a black hole with the promise of samples every aisle. I took all 4 kids the other day and got no less than 2 "wow, look at you and all those kids" remarks from various onlookers, and I honestly didn't blame them because it was hotter and messier than any grocery trip heretofore attempted. But there were hot dogs and pizza at the end so all was well.

Let's see, what else?

4) Now that he's almost 6 months, how about some 5 month pictures of J Man?

5) I am most definitely bringing back the Cabin Fever Creativity Link-Up soon, soon, soon. I am just trying to figure out what to do with this old lady thrifted plaid skirt that I have to post with the link-up. Any plaid skirt recommendations? I picked Pinterest's brain the other day and found a few cute ones, this one and this one were my favs, and both happen to be from the same source.

6) I am reading Little House with the girls for the first time and am a little ashamed to admit that it is my first time reading them ever as well as the girls. I never claimed to be anything but not smart, but should I really be schooling them myself? That's a question I ask all too frequently. Like after I was thisclose to using the example of labor contractions to explain literary contractions to Naomi, who still has no idea how babies are actually born- I would say both sides of the explanation would have been a tad confusing.

7) My parents are coming tonight! Which makes the fact that I just wrote these instead of vacuuming or chipping play dough off the many surfaces of my kitchen or being anything close to resembling productive even more ridiculous. Long live the blog!!

so much things, so many randomness (with questions for YOU!)

I am the worst ever for my lack of response to the overwhelmingly encouraging responses to my mention of dealing with some postpartum depression and anxiety and first and foremost I want to say: THANK YOU!! Each and every comment has lifted my spirits and made me feel so supported and, well,not alone- which is huge- so thank you all so much!

That italicized paragraph above is from a post that I started writing all about my experience with postpartum depression, which quickly turned into a straight up novella and had the adverse effect of making me really anxious and depressed while writing it, so I just stopped. One day I will legitimately get past it all and feel like I can write about it, but for now I would say I am still too much in the thick of it, even though it has gotten to the point of being totally manageable. I mean really I am doing so SO much better, but apparently it's still all too fresh for me to be writing about it, which is probably for the better for everybody.

I think I will just stick with the generally vain and shallow and mostly pointless blogging that I am all-too-good at.

Onward and vainward.

Starting with a VLOG idea. Shoot straight with me readers: should I do a completely vain VLOG about how I curl my really long, thick hair in less than 10 minutes most mornings? Would anybody on the face of the earth care about this?? I love VLOGs. I love getting to see and hear bloggers who I feel like are my friends even though we have never met because it makes me feel like less of a creeper for stalking their blogs and telling everyone that we actually are friends feel more connected to them. Also, I have watched countless hair DIY tutorials and perused pinterest for cute hair styles but have always just gotten very frustrated when I try them-- they just don't work on my hair because it is way too thick and heavy and long, this is what I'm working with:

All my top-knots buns either fall out or give me a head ache from how tightly I have to fasten them in order for them to stay up, it's a real problem (of the first world nature of course). Therefore I have had to resign myself to wearing my hair down and curling it if I want to steer clear of the all-day every-day pony tail, and I really do, mostly because pony tails also hurt my head after a while and because I feel more put together with my hair semi-styled. So should I do it? You can be honest, it will not hurt my feelings.

Now for a little showcasing of my new favorite accessory, since I'm being shallow at all. It's also a little plug for my sister who is a new merchandiser of Chloe and Isabel. She hosted her first jewelry party over the Christmas break and I got this adorable coral branch necklace and I am in love:

Their jewelry is all so adorable, check it out for yourself, and the best part is they have a lifetime replacement guarantee and any mother of small, grabby handed children knows how invaluable that is. Definitely head over and drool over some of their gorgeous pieces.

Lastly, what do you readers think of this blog doing another round of the Cabin Fever Creativity Link Up? I feel like it's a good idea since blogging is such a great way to stay connected with people when you can't leave the house- and I never leave the house anymore- and hosting and participating in link-ups is a great way to keep the blog-ball rolling, so to speak. Also, cabin fever is really bad over here, and I mean really bad- I actually excited to make more play dough for my kids, and dress up for their tea parties.

Ok "excited" might be an exaggeration, but these days drag to where I am just looking for something, anything! to fill them. Anyways, I think I need to indulge myself in some other more mature hobbies of the crafting variety. So what do you say, want to join me?

And that's really all I have for you today, I hope your week has started off great!

7 quick takes: tight pants, ppd, and crap-tivities!

Joining one of my all-time favorite bloggers and newest hostess with the mostest- Kelly- for the fist time for 7 quick takes this laaaaaate Friday evening, because what else does one do while listening to a sleep training baby? Nothing.

 
1: First off, thanks so much for all the love on the blog's facebook page this week, you are all too kind and encouraging and have inspired me to not let the blog go down without a fight. Who am I kidding, I will probably never let it go, I love it too much. There has never been another category of blog that I felt like mine fell under more than a "keeping it real" mom blog. I guess it's a category within a category because I will never claim to not be a mom-blog, the blog's title makes it impossible for me to try to make that argument. So I'm just going to take it back to the roots now and keep it real for you all.

2: : I have been walking around with my pants entirely unbuttoned and unzipped because they just do not fit. I could just find a bigger pair that do fit, but I am determined to make my pre-pregnancy jeans work whether they look painted on (they do!) or not. There are many culprits that come into play here, not just the fact that I recently bore and birthed a child, behold exhibit A:

I've iced over 140 cookies as I get ready to host my first ever cookie exchange and you better believe at least 3 cookies worth of each batch of cookie dough has been consumed by myself. Cookie dough is sort of my cryptonite. By the time I post this I will have exchanged all sorts of cookies with all sorts of great ladies and will have more cookies to consume, it will be great.

Getting a little serious now, just a warning:

3: This postpartum period has seen me dealing with my first bout of postpartum depression and anxiety (heavy on the anxiety) and it has been capital C Crazy. There were a few weeks there a while ago that I was sure the entire world was about to end and/or I was going to be hauled off to an institute somewhere but thanks be to God and meds and all sorts of support from family and friends (real life and blog alike) and I am doing much, MUCH better. But it is still a daily struggle that some days gets the better of me. God bless all you women who have dealt with it with each pregnancy and for much longer than me, I am in awe of you.

Done with being serious.

4: This weather might just kill me. The lack of sun and cold, cold, rain and more cold is really cramping my already crampy style right now, so much so that I have been indulging the girls almost daily in what I like to call Crap-tivities. That's right, my craft-hating self has been taking out the paints, scissors and glue multiple times a week and I have even taken to pre-cutting construction paper for various crafts the night before. Who am I?!? I don't even know any more, but I do know that if I am miserable with the absence of any outdoor time, they are equally so, ok probably more.

Behold the various crap-tivities:

5: Read the previous 3 again and you'll understand why I have had to force myself to get back to exercise in the form of Jillian Michaels, because I still only own 3 workout DVDs and all 3 are her, because I guess I hate myself. If you've never done a Jillian workout, doing one for the first time in well over a year is sheer torture, and the day after is even worse. I have only done it 3 times so far and the jury is still out on whether I will ever do it again.

6: Have I ever mentioned how much I love South Bend and it's fabulous community?
The aforementioned cookie party was a huge success and now I have multiple various assortments of other kinds of cookies to fill my waistband with over the next few days.

Thank you, ladies.

7: We leave for Steubenville the day after tomorrow and it will likely be a miracle of miracles if I visit ye old blog whilst supping with kin and singing all sorts of Christmas hymns round the evergreens, but maybe we'll all get lucky.

If not, Merriest of merry Christmases to you all!!

the donkey

It's Advent and everybody's talking about Mary, so SO many great thoughts and posts about our Lady, and I love each and every one. As mothers this is such a natural time of year to think about the Blessed Virgin and even attempt to imitate her quiet, meditative spirit in order to prepare our hearts for Christ's coming, but for the most part I fail.

A few months ago Mike and I were sitting at the diner table talking about a paper he is giving at a conference on Mary as a spiritual exemplar for Christians (life as a theologian's wife? yes). The more we talked and the more I thought about it, and it dawned on me that as a mother, I feel more unlike Mary than like her. I rely heavily on her intercession (i.e. repeated Hail Marys during temper tantrums) and I pray constantly that she would help me to be a better mother, and ask her to pray for me and to watch over me, but I never feel like I can relate to Mary and her motherhood. I am going to pin it on the fact that I am positive Jesus never threw temper tantrums like my girls and the fact that Mary was sinless-- those 2 things alone make it hard to identify with her in so many of the daily struggles. I wasn't quite sure if there was something wrong with that, or if it is something I should try to work on.

After the conversation with Mike, I was struck by a carved wooden statue that we have from my in-laws. It pictures Mary riding on the donkey to Bethlehem, great with child, Joseph leading them with a somewhat fearful look on his face. Here I will just show you:

As I stared at it, it struck me how much more I identify with the donkey in the statue than Mary. I know that sounds ridiculous, but after wondering if it is a problem that I have a hard time relating to our Lady, it brought me a lot of peace and consolation. One of my very favorite saints, Saint Josemaria Escriva, used to talk about striving to be a donkey spiritually. He praised the donkey's hard working spirit and humility and he said that:

"There are hundreds of animals more beautiful, more deft and strong. But it was a donkey Christ chose when he presented himself to the people as king in response to their acclamation"

And it is the donkey who carries our Lord, still in the womb of Mary, to his birthplace. Not a bad job, if you think about it.

The donkey has no false images of himself, he is simply doing what he is being asked to do, humbly and obediently. He is probably really tired and weak, but he does what he has to do. He is serving our Lord in the most practical way, through carrying his mother in this most trying of times and I can only hope to do just that in this life. Shoot, I fail at being like the donkey! 

I think imitation of Our Lady is a beautiful, important thing to strive for in the spiritual life, and I think that God's grace can accomplish that level of holiness. But for me, most days I am all over the place and "imitator of Mary, the Mother of God" would be the last title anyone would ever come close to giving me if they could see my feeble, mucked up attempts to serve the Lord through motherhood.

BUT! "Donkey who serves Our Lord and loves and serves Mary, the Mother of God" is much closer to something I feel like I can aspire to. There is humility and obedience in the task of the hard working donkey, and while I am not even there yet, I can work towards it. I can work towards loving, serving and honoring Our Lady- exemplar of all mothers- as that donkey did who carried her to Bethlehem.

Family Photos with Cedars and Tiny Flowers

Katrina is one of my favorite people and her blog (Cedars and Tiny Flowers, hence the post title) is an absolute fav. I met her a few years back, when Ryan was just a wee babe, and since then we've become good friends- one of the many blessing of living here in South Bend. She is sweet, funny, a super talented writer and blogger, has the prettiest hair and cutest babies, and is apparently a wonderful fledgling photographer! She offered to take some family pictures after Joseph was born, and naturally I waited until he is 4 months old to do them and send out a birth announcement. Apparently it takes the making of 3 matching little girl skirts + one very crooked tie onesie (crookedness covered by baby cardigan) for me to get motivated enough to actually assemble the fam for some snapshots.

Anyways, Katrina the Sweetest come over and showcased her skills and was in and out in 30 minutes, which with kids (and during a Steelers game) was so impressive and appreciated, and she did such a bang-up job. She says she was "practicing", but I think she was just showing off (insert winking-eye emoji). And I am not even selling her as a photographer because on top of full-time momming she has at least one other part-time job and just gave her blog the cutest new look all by herself. Amazing. So don't call her for photography, just admire her work here and read her blog there.

Tis the season for entire blog posts dedicated to showcasing family pictures!
First a Christmas card teaser of the whole fam before the offspring dominate:

Now for a serious glut of festive photos, oldest to youngest, with Lucy as the star because... you'll see why. Navigate away now if you don't like pictures:

Capital "R" Ridiculous.

And of course, the boy:

There you have it, family pictures with matching homemade attire and thank the Lord for good friends with great camera skills!

Merry Christmas ya filthy animals!