Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Unmade beds.

When I was a teenager, I went through this rebellious stage where I refused to make up my bed every morning.  I saw no point in spending the five minutes time to do something that I was going to undo twelve hours later.

It's okay to laugh at the fact an unmade bed was my rebellious stage. My mother is personally thanking God for it.

My mom didn't argue with me.  I remember her telling me repeatedly thru my teenage age years "pick and choose your battles."  She let it go and every night, I happily climbed into an unmade bed.

When I was fifteen, I didn't get what she meant.  Now that I'm a mom myself, I get it... I really do. I think I may even go on record that "pick and choose your battles" is one of the biggest lessons I learned from my mom about being a mom.

But then I grew up.

I became a stay-at-home mom myself and somewhere along the road, a made up bed became a symbol of accomplishment.

Kinda like it's a required thing for anyone that was home all day long. I'm sure David took note each and every night that he climbed into a nicely made bed (please note the sarcasm).

Heck, there is a pin on pinterest about "why I make my bed everyday" so it must be important, right?

So, these past few years, I got into the habit of making my bed each and everyday. 

Then I had a baby.


For the first two years, my bed making continued without missing a beat. She was in a crib, so I quickly made up the bed each and every morning before rescuing her from the crib and my bed went untouched till nighttime.

Then that baby grew up, moved out of a crib, and I found her crawling into my bed each and every morning.

I love that moment each day. Really, I do.  I think I may keep homeschooling just for that reason alone (totally joking).

However, as soon as our morning cuddling time was over, I was quickly making up the bed and going on about our day.

Over the past year or so, even after I did my daily "make up the bed" routine, that I'd often throughout the day find Olivia on my nicely made up bed.

As much as I hate to admit it, I did the 'mother of the year" thing of getting on to her for messing up my freshly made up bed.  Like that was the only thing I had accomplished all day and David would dock my pay because he had to climb into a bed with wrinkled covers and sheets.

I vividly remember a scene from while we were living in the farmhouse of me losing it at Olivia over her messing up my freshly made bed. 

....but then life happened.


You all are familiar with the story by now and know what kinda life happened.

It's funny how those things give you new perspectives on life.  In fact, I think I've been given just as many new perspectives on life within the last six months as I have my whole thirty two years before.

Within a couple of months of Olivia's diagnoses, I noticed she gravitated towards our bed on her days she felt her worse. To even go further into the story, the day that started it all, she was in our bed the entire day and refused to leave.

Perspective.

I get it now...our bed is a safe place for our girls.

It's where they want to lay when they have nightmares in the middle of the night.  It's where they want to be when they're teething or having a  "day after chemo." It's where they play on rainy days and where they want to watch movies as a family. It's where they feel closes to us.

That being said, our freshly made up bed often gets messed up in their daily activities.
 My often times only daily accomplishment gets thrown to the wind. 

Perspective.

I've learned to let it go.  I've learned to pick and choose my battles.
That battle is one I don't want to fight.

An unmade bed is not a sign of what I've accomplished during my day.  

If our bed is their safe haven, I want them to know it's always there waiting for them...messy covers and all. 


Monday, March 2, 2015

The weekend.

I had these great dreams of posting about our wonderful weekend, but to be honest, it hasn't been the best.

It was a long weekend and not of the good kind.


For whatever reason, they moved the Atlanta NASCAR race to this weekend and David has a store ten minutes from the racetrack, so a majority of his weekend was spent at work.  In years past, it's been a Labor day weekend race, which meant I spent the majority of his working hours by the pool and with family eating hamburgers and hotdogs ("oh, you were working all weekend? I didn't notice while I was cramming in the last bit of tanning I could for the summer.") Race weekend is expected and nothing new (he's pretty much always had a store near the racetrack), but it doesn't make for a fun weekend when you have a teething toddler and your mother-in-law is on call.

Which speaking of...Amelia has a zero pain tolerance.


I'm not even joking.

The kid spent the majority of her first year in pain from severe reflux and her second year in pain from teeth.  I was starting to think maybe she had another ear infection, but on Tuesday, the Doctor confirmed that her ears/throat/nose looked perfect and it was in fact, just teething.  She's been connected at my hip most of the weekend and the only way I could get any clothes washed was with her in the baby backpack.  While carrying a 30lb. toddler all weekend, I've learned that no matter how long I've been training for a 1/2 marathon, I'm out of shape. 

I cannot tell you how happy I will be when Amelia gets over the teething stage.  I think after the two that are currently coming in, we only have the two year molars left (oh, yay!!!).  She won't let me open her mouth long enough to access the situation.


In other news, Olivia took two bad falls over the weekend.  Back in the day, falls like these we wouldn't have thought twice over, but now we have to be extra vigilant over even the smallest fall because she can easily develop an infection due to the chemo and lack of an immune system.  No lie, we have to treat every paper cut like a bullet womb. The chemo that she is on now has left her with no reflexes and extra clumsy (three times as clumsy as a normal five year old), so she falls constantly.  It's just one of those things we took for granted pre-cancer days.  She currently has ten band aides on her body (not an exaggeration at all) and smells like a tube of neosporin.
 

In more happy news, we finally got a couple of nice days and got to spend some time outside.  My kids are so ready for the warmer weather, it's not even funny.  February was rough. Amelia seriously asks to go outside approximately ten minutes after she's woken up every single morning. I cannot tell you how frustrating it is to try to explain to a toddler that she cannot go outside when it's 18 degrees outside.  I don't do that kind of cold. We've never had really nice patio furniture and decided it was time, so we've seriously spent the whole winter stocking up on stuff and it's currently sitting all boxed up in the garage.  I have a sneaky feeling we're going to get our monies worth out of it all this summer.  Thankfully it's going to be in the 60's and 70's all week.  Maybe Spring is finally here???
 

Also, David and I got a much needed date night on Saturday night and we didn't get a single call that anyone needed to go to urgent care or the ER (that was the trend for awhile). We finally made it back to a local Italian place that we haven't been to since before Olivia was born and thankfully, it didn't disappoint (Pasta Max in the square for any locals). We ended our night at Walmart like every other romantic night because we were out of diapers. 
 

The only thing keeping me going at this point and time is the nice weather and our next to last weekly chemo appointment.


By the time you read this, we'll be at clinic for our last sedation chemo for this round.  No matter how many times she's sedated (we're easily up to 20 times by now), it's a little nerve racking.  Please say a prayer for my mini me. Watching her come out of sedation breaks my heart every time.

Here's to a warmer week! : )