As my friend Tanya is probably saying, "Enough with the Hunger Games. Make with the baby!!"
(Beware. Possible overload of pictures. Scroll through fast if it is painfully too much. But I'm doing this for the grandparents! And my posterity. :)
I had the worst dream the other night. I dreamt that I was in college. I was flunking out of two classes. I was not going to graduate. I would not obtain the degree that I needed to support my family (I really needed this degree to support my family in my dream). That was my dream. And it was one of those dreams where your feelings are completely real and felt,and you are tossing, turning, sweating, and stressing. The burden you feel is so real. One of those dreams. I awoke and still felt so stressed. It took a few minutes to actually come to reality and realize that I was in fact graduated, had my degree, had no classes to flunk, and that my husband lovingly supports our family. I was so happy! So relieved! I spent the morning feeling so grateful to have the best job in the world. No classes to flunk, no tests to take, just two little kiddies that need me to feed them and play with them. And so I did. We spent the morning watching Finding "Meemo" and eating "knocks" (fruit snacks).
Repeat dream two nights later. This time I was going in to take a huge test that I had not studied for.
Fact: One of my worst fears is to show up unprepared. Sounds pretty general huh. But that sums it up. I don't ever want to be unprepared for any day, thing, or event. Of course I can't be perfect, but still, no matter how hard I try, to not try, I keep trying to always be prepared. (And by the way, I am really trying to work hard on stripping myself of my Obsessive Perfectionistic Disorder and I am miserably failing. Please send suggestions. And I already know it's all suppose to be small stuff, but it's just that there's a lot of small stuff!) That explains why I own a diaper bag officially titled " The Weekender" diaper bag. I use it for my outings to the grocery store, mailbox, you name it. You can imagine the bag I need for the weekend. After I explained to the lady at the diaper bag store the kind of things I'd need room for in a new diaper bag, she endearingly said, "Man, I hope you're around whenever I need something!" And you should hope I'm around too. I'm prepared! (But this can't last. I can't always haul around the kitchen sink, especially if we have more than two kids!)
So again, sweating, stressing, unprepared for a big exam! I woke up again. No test to take. Just mouths to feed and kids to laugh with.
Is this some sort of lesson from heaven so that I can realize how fantastic my life is?
Tim and I are LOVING the stage Trent is in. He is learning in leaps and bounds. Every day it amazes me that he is capable of what seems to be double his capability from the day before. The sad thing is that he is looking like he's a four-year-old. He's only 20 months. I now look back at his pictures from even just a few months ago, when he was still hanging on to little traces of baby fat, and now think, "Where is my baby boy?"
My son prays. All of a sudden he'll fold his arm and say, "pray." We stop. We pray. And everytime he says "Jesus Christ," he whispers it.
We don't know a lot about Hadley yet, but if we had to peg her with a one word description and personality prediction, it would be: SOCIAL. Hadley lights up. If you look at her, she will smile, and oh you are in for an earful. It is the most delightful thing. Oohs, aahs, goos, and squeals. Boy does she have a story for you. (Hmmm, what parent does she get the talk-your-ear-off trait from?) I just wish I had an equally exciting story for her! But her stories of angels and heaven and all of our family on the other side, well my stories don't hold a candle to that. It is SO FUN to listen to Haddles.
When I was a little girl, every Christmas and birthday, I would ask for Barbies or Cabbage Patch dolls, and I always asked for the dolls with red hair! Tim says I must have known about my babies in heaven waiting to come.
Haddles, as we affectionately call her, really is a little twin to Trent. Two peas in a pod. And we think she is just beautiful.
Why am I so surprised that my kids look like twins, exactly alike? They have the same parents! So why did I expect a baby with a full head of black hair? I dunno! I just don't like surprises, so I guess I prepared myself by expecting the opposite of what science and genetics would point to.
Yesterday, when I was trying to get something done and ignoring my sweet little kiddos as I often do (shameful confession), I finally gave in to Trent's need for attention, as I should have long before, and sat down to color with him. (I really am trying to figure out how to balance my life!) We had a picture from nursery of a mom, dad, big brother, little sister, and baby. Trent got the orange crayon and scribbled the big brother's hair orange, and the little sister's hair orange. True story. Maybe he knew this is how it was suppose to be all along.
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