Now, That's Real Love

Love is a funny thing.  It pops up in all sorts of strange places.  It comes when we least expect it.  It causes us to act in funny ways.  It makes us say funny things.  It makes us put others before ourselves.  It makes us smile.  It makes us sad.  It makes us happy. It makes us giddy.  It makes us who we are.

Exactly 5 years ago today, I was anxiously awaiting the start of my NEW life, with my NEW husband, with my NEW house, with my NEW dreams, with my NEW everything.  I remember the day like it was yesterday.  The most important people in my life were anxiously awaiting right there with me.  They were ready to dab away nervous tears, fix any last minute dress issues, sign their names as witnesses and hold bouquets when they need to!

I have had the privilege of being married to my best friend for 5 years today.  We've created a life together.  We created a son together.  We have created so many darn memories, I'm afraid my head will get full and I'll start to forget them. 

I'm not the mushy-gushy-marriage-is-pure-bliss-and-we've-never-fought-and-are-always-as-happy-as-we-seem kind of gal.  I'm gonna be real.  Marriage is hard.  Really HARD.  But there has not been a trial we've gone through, a path we've journeyed or a trail we've walked that I would trade for the world. 

Each step we've taken together, or those we've gone fighting against one another, has gotten us to the point we are today.  A point that I love.  I get to go to sleep and wake up next to my best friend each and every day.  (Okay, let's be realistic...not EVERY day...)

So as the  big day was approaching upon us, Dave was putting a lot of thought into the perfect gift.  I know this because he kept asking random (but I was onto him) kind of questions that were just odd.

Last Wednesday, in an all sorts of serious manner, this is the conversation we had at dinner.

Dave--"Hey Babe.  I've put a lot of thought into your gift and I know what I'm going to get you for our anniversary."
Me--"Ok, but I'd like to be surprised."  (He's not always the best at waiting until the big day for any holiday!)
Dave--"I know, but I think you're really going to like it."
Me--"Ok, (still trying to get him to keep it a secret) but let's wait until Saturday."
Dave--(In an explosive manner, because he simply can't keep it in) "I'm going to let you put up the Christmas Tree on Saturday."
Me--(As I'm running up to hug him!) "YES!!!! You were so right in figuring out the perfect gift!  And that is why I love you."

Now, before everyone starts blowing up my phone yelling about not putting up the Christmas Tree yet...we haven't put it up.  But that doesn't mean we aren't going to.  Soon.  Very soon!  Because now I don't have to fight about when it's appropriate to put it up.  We're good to go."

And that my friends, is REAL LOVE.

Questions That Have "Sprouted" Up

I have a two year old.  Which means many things.  The main thing it means is we, as in the adults in the house, have ABSOLUTELY NO CONTROL over the T.V.  EVER. NEVER, EVER, EVER.

If it were possible, we'd only need to subscribe to one channel.  Of course, that channel is the SPROUT channel.  It's the only thing we ever watch.  If the TV is turned on, and it's not already on 337, it's pretty much a full on panic attack by a certain member of our family.    The shortest member.  (That's not me anymore!)  If ever we try to sneak the TV on and he catches us, he makes this huge production of covering his eyes and ears and starts chanting, "I not watch this, I too little.  I can't watch it.  Change it, change it."  It's really rather ridiculous.  Disclaimer...we don't watch bad shows...that happens during the 5:00 news!

Earlier this summer, Reilly was content to watch whatever was on...in the order it came about.  However, now, he's not that simple.  He has his favorites.  And that's all he wants to watch.  ALL THE TIME.  Right now, we're very stuck on...




Oh, how we love Caillou!  (As in, I can pretty much recite each episode!)

However, back in the good ol' days, when we were allowed to branch out and watch the other Sprout shows...they made me think.  A lot.  Here are the questions that have "SPROUTED" up from watching channel 337.

• Why is Mama Bear from the Berenstein Bears ALWAYS wearing the same exact outfit?  Even when she's going swimming?
• Are little kids really supposed to know why Thomas is the cheeky one?  What exactly does cheeky even mean?
• Will Nina start to wear winter jammies soon?  I'm afraid her ankles are going to get quite chilly this winter...
• Why is Caillou 4 years old and still bald?  (I actually know the answer to this one...but I did spend a lot of time thinking about it.)
• How exactly do we get to Sesame Street?
• Why are the Berenstein Bears the only Bear Family that live in a tree when all the other Bear Families get to live in a regular house?
• How do the families that Shawn, Noodle and Doodle visit always know exactly when to be outside when the bus pulls up?
• Is Nina really the one making the sand picture?
• Does anyone ever feed Hush the Fish?
• Has anyone ever tested Jeff on the Wiggles for a sleep disorder?
• Do Sean, Kelly, Dennisha, Carly, and Chica really love their jobs that much?  Who is really that wide eyed and bushy tailed so early in the morning?

This is just a small dose of what's been on my mind while suffering enjoying the amazing world of Sprout.  I may just end up spending the evening googling some answers.

I Have An Ugly Pan!

Sometimes it pays to have ugly pans.  Today was one of those days!

My sisters, Kim and Keely, along with Bonnie, hosted a Longaberger Open House today and they challenged their guests to bring an ugly pan. 

I knew I had this one.

I have some ugly pans.

So I dug it out.  Not that I had to search hard, I still use it all the time.

And guess what?

I won!

Hooray!

Guess what else? 

I got a brand spanking I'd-never-be-able-to-afford-one-on-my-own  new FLAMEWARE PIZZA PAN!!!!

Hooray for having an ugly pan!

Hooray for having such amazing sisters and friend named Bonnie.

Thanks for my new pan, girls!

The Trouble With Butts

Yep.  This blog is about the trouble with butts.  Not the conjunction buts, but rather the back end of a person kind of butt.

(Disclaimer...this is not a butt that belongs to anyone I know!)

For those people that know the Woods' Family well, you've heard our trials regarding Reilly's fanny.  It doesn't always do what it's supposed to do.  As in, it never hardly ever releases the digested and processed food from his belly.  Let's be frank...the kid just doesn't poop.  Like ever.

This isn't a new issue.  We've been dealing with it for quite some time now.  We've chatted with people, we've taken medicine, we've done lots of suppositories, and we've even eaten special food and drank special drinks.  Heck, we've even prayed for poop.  A LOT.

After visiting the Dr. a couple of weeks ago, we've been taking 2 cap fulls of Miralax, 2 fiber gummies, 3 Tbsp. of mineral oil and really limiting the amount of dairy he's gotten each day.  Just last weekend I nearly did cartwheels down the aisle at Meijer when I found PRUNE ACTIVIA yogurt.  There's really no explainable way why this kid isn't running around constantly pooping...but it just isn't happening. 

Ms. Betsy (our babysitter)  is amazing and totally on board with trying to get Reilly to poop.  She takes such good care of him, does exercises that he's supposed to do and feeds him high fiber foods.  She also usually gives us a run down of diapers when we pick up since she knows we're tracking them closely.  We're so lucky she's a part of Reilly's life and his pooping progress. 

I got a phone call from our pediatrician on Friday that we were being sent to a specialist at Memorial, who will do some further investigating to see what's going on.

We also got some other news on Friday. 

News we weren't expecting.

News I'm not sure we were ready for.

News that doesn't make us proud.

Dave went to pick up Reilly from Ms. Betsy's after work on Friday and found this waiting for him.

And then Ms. Betsy began to tell Dave about Reilly's day.  She went to change his diaper earlier in the day and saw something strange.  (Remind me sometime to blog about what she found previously this week in his diaper.)  There was something in his diaper that didn't belong. 

I'll spare all the details, but let's just say, it hadn't completely passed.  She had to help.  And she saved it for us.  Luckily it's not a great picture.  (You should still skip this part if you are weak stomached!)

MY KID ATE A CAPRI-SUN STRAW.

AND WE HAD NO IDEA.

WE DON'T KNOW WHEN.

WE DON'T KNOW HOW.

WE DON'T KNOW WHY.

But he ate a straw, and Ms. Betsy had to pull part of it out.  Of his bum.

SERIOUSLY?

OH. MY. WORD.

I have no idea if this has been part of the pooping issue. Not that I'm excited that he ate and swallowed a straw, but I am praying that was issue and now that it's out, we'll get back to normal.    We've had some movement this weekend--more than usual, but still not enough.  My fingers are still crossed though.

Thank Goodness we have some pretty special guardian angels looking down on this crazy boy...we could have had some very serious issues with that silly straw.

Now...we're going to bed to pray for more poop.  We'd appreciate your prayers, too.

Sweet Summer Memories

Today is the day I've been dreading since June.  I knew it was coming.  I knew there was no way to get around it.  I just chose not to think about it.  Unfortunately, for about the last week and a half, it's been all I could think about.

Today is the LAST day of summer break.

If you're reading this and you're not a teacher--I understand that you don't get this.  But if you are a teacher, I know you GET this. Today is the LAST day before life gets crazy again.  Like, really crazy.

I'm almost certain, without even having to look, that I blogged another post about this same topic this time last year.  I'm sure it was all mushy about having to go back to school and how much the Mommy part of me was sad.

Looking back, I don't think last year had ANYTHING on this year.  This year is rough.  I have a feeling I'm going to keep saying this as the years go by and Reilly gets older and older.

Reilly is 2.5.  He's like a miniature man.  He's SO. MUCH. FUN.

We have spent the last 9 weeks making memories that are going to last forever.  These are days that I wouldn't trade for all the money in the world.  We have spent time with friends, family and strangers.  But some of my favorite times have just been the two of us. 

Just a snapshot of our summer days....

We've:

Snuggled. Played play-doh. Pretended to drive Daddy's car.  Built with blocks. Rode bikes.  Taken walks. Baked treats.  Played on the computer.  Went to work at school.  Taken Daddy lunch.  Played to the water park.  Visited Indiana Beach.  Played  on the swings.  Swam in the lake.  Been to Ohio.  Gone to the zoo.  Made volcanoes.  Visited friends.  Sang songs.  Mowed the grass.  Had picnics.  Watched Sprout.  Had cookouts..  Visited the animals.  Swept the floors.  Cleaned the toilets.  Went swimming.  Gotten boo-boos.  Been to the Farmer's Market.  Transitioned to a big boy bed.  Went potty on the big boy potty.  Blew bubbles.  Tye-dyed t-shirts.  Ran around.  Played tag.  Watched fireworks.  Visited festivals.  Danced.  Waved to the trash man.  Said hello to the mailman.  Colored pictures.  Went shopping.  AND MADE MEMORIES.

My mommy heart hurts this morning.  I know it won't be long until we've made the transition to our "normal life."  But for today, I'm going to snuggle extra along, sing extra loud, dance extra crazy and love extra hard so that my little man never forgets how much I treasure him .

Cousins

I have amazing memories of growing up surrounded by family.  As kids, we spent A LOT of time at my grandparents house at Bass Lake.  We were there practically all summer, and the memories are endless.

I can't even begin to count the hours we logged riding around on the golf cart, 4 wheeler, spending time on the paddle boat, swimming in the pool and eating fudgesicles on the deck.

No matter if we were at the lake, or up at our house...we were always with family it seemed. Cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, sisters, parents...just always had family around.

Every holiday was spent somewhere together.  It was awesome.

One of the worst things about growing up is that everyone else grows up too.  All of us have started our own families and our own lives fill up our time so we don't get to hang out as often as I would like.

So it's always a very special treat when we all make time to get together and hang out.  And super fun now that most of us have spouses and kids of our own.  It's unfortunate that they don't know each other as well as we did at their age...but the time we spend together is priceless.

We recently got to hang out my Grandma and Grandpa's house...with lots of cousins.  What a fun day it was catching up!  Here are just some of the pictures of the next generation playing...

 we should probably be concerned that the two youngest are in control of the golf cart...

 Just hangin' out waiting for a ride...

 We waited about 45 minutes for a 10 minute parade...

 Just some of the crew...

 We've got to be careful...these two are just about at the age to start causing some serious trouble together if left unattended.

 I love catching up!

 I wish I knew what made this huge laugh come out of this little lady!  Pure joy!

 Awe!

 Just playing some ball in G'ma and G'pas' yard!

 This is what happens when we put the dad's in charge...

I can only pray they have some of the same memories that I hold so dear in my heart...

Big Boy Bed Business

7 nights ago, something changed in our little house.  Something BIG.  I'd been anticipating this day for quite a while, but kept coming up with excuses as to why "that" day wasn't a "good" day for it to happen.

Last Sunday, I couldn't come up with any new excuses.  I knew "that" day was going to be "the" day.

It was time to say goodbye to the crib and hello to the big boy bed.  Any my heart hurt.  A. LOT.

We've had the toddler bed in Reilly's room for about 6 months now, but up until then, it was simply a "catch-all" for extra clothes, diaper boxes, toys and of course, where Reilly's life size Elmo slept.

Reilly and I would occasionally snuggle up in there, but when it was time to get serious about sleeping, he would always ask to go into his crib. And I would always put him there.

I did have a reason for hanging on so long.  And it was even a pretty good one.  Unfortunately, our little man occasionally suffers from night terrors.  If you've ever experienced one or seen someone have them, they are HORRIBLE, and you know it.  When Reilly would get his, he would often be standing up, screaming, sometimes running from one end of the crib to the other like he was being chased.  I knew as long as he was in his crib, he was safe and couldn't get out.

But I also knew it couldn't be my excuse forever.

I tearfully went into his room and got everything out of the crib and read for "demolition day!" 

Then I went outside to play with Reilly.

Dave came in and started to take it all apart...I thought I had given him ample time, so I brought Reilly in.

Turns out we were a little too soon.

This is the conversation that followed as soon as Reilly walked into his room to see what Daddy was doing.

R: "What you doin' dad?  (with his hand over his mouth?)  Where my bed?"
D: "I'm takin' it down so you can sleep in your big boy bed, buddy."
R: (with his hand still on his mouth, which was now super pouty.) "No thank you, daddy."
D: "Yes, buddy, you're such a big boy, you need a big bed."
R: "No, no, no Daddy.  You put it back.  Now.  Please.  Pretty Please.  Stop doin' that dad.  Put my bed back."

And I'm not sure what was said after that...there was way to much crying...from all of us to hear anything.

The first night was hard.  Really hard.  There were tears.  Lots and lots of tears.  We put him in bed, and he cried.  And cried.  And cried.  So did I.  A. LOT.  He never once stepped out of bed, just sat in there and cried for his old bed.  I had to go outside.  It was horrible.

Monday's nap was perfect.  He climbed right in and fell right to sleep!  There was hope yet!

The second night made the first night seem like paradise.  We put him in bed, he immediately popped out and started knocking on the door.  (We still can't figure out why he doesn't just open it.  He knows how, and does it all the time during the day!)  The noise coming from his bedroom was way worse than crying.  It was screaming.  Anger.  Madness.  Frustration. Sadness. Loneliness.  Agony.  Ugh.  I sat outside and cried right along with him.  He was at the door, sticking his toes underneath, saying things like... "Mom, open door!  I stuck in here.  You see my toes?  Open door.  Dad, come get me! I be good boy.  I love you.  Please. Pretty please."  Horrible.

I didn't cave.  I never opened the door.

Dave did.  He couldn't take it anymore.  So we made popcorn and snuggled on the couch.  What else could we do???

After about 45 minutes, we put him back to bed, and with a little more whining, he quickly fell asleep.

Tuesday night--he did great.
Wednesday night--he did awesome.
Thursday night--Superstar!

Friday night--Summer cold strikes...we were up 3 times, and ended up sleeping on the couch, but I still maintain it had nothing to do with the big boy bed!

Saturday night--he couldn't have put up a fight even if he tried--he was exhausted.
Sunday night--champ!

Once he falls asleep, he has yet to climb out of bed and leave his room.  Even when he gets up in the morning, he calls me from his bed to tell me he's awake on his new bed.

I know he still misses his crib.  I know this because we have to go downstairs every morning to make sure it's there and kiss it hello.

I love this "Big-boy-bed" kid!