Top 10 Treyisms of March

1. "I am a brother and Sister is a sister"

2. After watching some Bugs Bunny cartoons he began saying, "what's up duck"

3. After having a discussion about the Easter Bunny...."The Easter Bunny not going to bring eggs to my house, that's silly!". So I ask what he thinks the easter bunny will bring. Simple answer....."Trains!"

4. "My nose is starving for kleenex!" (You just have to read that post for explanation)

5. Out of the blue he says, "when it gets summertime I will have a guinea pig". I was surprised at this because we had never talked about a guinea pig before. Out of curiosity I asked what color guinea pig he'd like. Another simple answer.............."Green!"

6. Rex is trying to teach Trey about money. They have been working on naming coins. Trey was doing well, "penny, quarter, dime....". Then he had to stop and think. Finally he named the last coin...."Pickle"

7. Trey was studying my face one day and asked, "what are dese?" "Eyebrows" I answered. He thought for a minute and then the questions began. "Do I have eyebrows? Does Nana have eyebrows? Does Poppy have eyebrows. Does Mr. Socks (the cat) have eyebrows......" This went on and on for at least an hour.

8. Rex and I were discussing the upcoming week, plans and the weather. I mentioned something about rain and Trey piped up (sounding a little British) "ya know, its quite possible"

9. While trying to have a meal in a restaurant and talk with a group of people, Trey kept acting up. I'd given him several warnings. Finally I'd had enough. I picked him up and we headed to the bathroom. Trey starts whining (loudly) " I don't want to get beated Mommy!" And of course he doesn't just say it once. He says it aaaaaaall the way to the bathroom. I was expecting CPS to apprehend me when we came back out.

10. Trey's cousin (Caleb) had been sick off and on all winter and finally had to have a tonsilectomy. After overhearing Rex and I talking about the new doctor Caleb would be seeing, Trey asked, " Does Caleb need Dr. Suess?"

Kayelynn's Feet

This is what happens when you leave your baby alone with your sisters and a bottle of nail polish.
~Baby's 1st Pedicure~
Daddy didn't find it as cute as Mommy did. "What are they trying to do to her? She's too little for that!"

Trey's feet

Toddlers.........you just gotta watch them every second! We were playing outside this afternoon. I had to go around to the back of the house to throw something away. I left Trey out front playing with the dogs. I could hear him whooping and hollerin' as I came back around the house. "Wooo Hooo" he was saying and giggling. I smiled to myself. How good it was to hear him enjoying himself. Then I saw what he was up to........

There sat the dogs, all three of them plus the cat too, gathered around like an audience. And the main attraction????

Trey jumping in a mud puddle!

P.S. Note Trey's shoes are on the wrong feet. This brings about the question, did I put them on that way this morning before going to the sitters? Or did the sitter put them on that way sometime during the day? Either way, he wore them that way during our trip to Pamida and all the while he was playing outside. I never noticed. Do I get points taken off my mommy license for that?

Its 11pm...guess what I'm doing.

I have been trying to figure out what to blog about. I have a few stories in my head. I was contemplating my options while I was throwing in a load of laundry. That's when it happened.------I smelled poop.

My poo smelling skills are really sharp at this point in my life. I can smell it from quite a distance and I can name from whence it came (baby, toddler, animal -yes, seriously,I can identify animal poo by smell too). I knew right away...these were Trey poopies.
Now, if you know my house, you may find that impressive. I was in the kitchen (the front of the house). Trey was in his room, covered up in bed, supposed to be sleeping. (His room is in the very back of the house).
I was so irritated with him. It was easy to put on the serious, no messing around, mommy face. Just over an hour earlier we had gone 'round and 'round about sitting on the potty before bed. I opened the door to his room and said his name very sternly. His little head popped up off his pillow. "What?" he asked sleepily. "Did you poop in your pants?!" I demanded to know. There was a pause and then a quiet, slightly distressed reply, "Ummm......yes"
I marched him in to the bathroom for clean up. He assumed the position of leaning over the toilet without me even telling him to. I won't get graphic but it was a horrendous mess. I kept asking him over and over, "why did you poop your pants?". His answers were not answers at all. He was trying to avoid my question. Here are the responses he came up with......
1. Is it still raining?
2. Is tomorrow Sunday?
3. Is you in your pajamas?
4. Is Sister in she's bed?
5. You my best friend.
6. You hair looks berry nice tonight.
7. I love you berry much.
My response, *sigh* ," I love you too. Now back to bed".
My thoughts, "Flattery will get you no where, Trey. You will poopy in the potty if its the last thing I do......or the last thing you do......". Oh well, at least I got my blog story out of the whole deal.

Snoopy Dance

Has everybody seen the Peanuts and know what I am referring to as the snoopy dance? I've always found it funny. Snoopy puts his long beagle nose up in the air and does this happy little toe tapping dance. Well, I'm doing that right now in honor of new follower #14. (Okay, I'm not really doing the dance. But it is happening in my head!)

A prayer for Megan

Please, everyone remember my friend Megan. I posted about her earlier. She's been waiting to adopt a baby and I hear that she is on her way to Indy today. I can only assume that means her birth mother is in labor or has had the baby. Please God, let Megan and Matt bring this little girl home. They have been thru so much over the past few years. She has had so many disappointments. But her heart is so full of love. She deserves a baby as much as anyone I know.
I also know someone who had a miscarriage today. So it only seems fair that Megan should get this child today. I don't want two people to grieve on this day. I hope that everyone will feel comfort from God as little lives are called Home and others get new homes. Life can be hard and unfair at times but more wonderful than words can describe at other times. I truly believe that God has a plan for everyone and his plan is ultimately best. I just pray that God's plan today is the one that Megan has been praying for.
Please remember my friends today and in the following days to come.

A Bakers Dozen

On a day when I was feeling kind of down, how great was it to find my 13th follower! She is one of my oldest friends. I had wondered if she was reading. What a good feeling to know your friends are always there to support you. So welcome to my very good friend Vanessa. Oh the stories I could tell about her......but, ohhhh, the stories she could tell about me! : )

'Go Faster'

Going potty at Grandma's.....

.....and wearing her shoes !!!!!!

Psalm 46:10

"Be still and know that I am God".

I just needed to share that today. I have been making curtains for the office today. The kids were napping and I had time to be still. It was nice to sit and let my thoughts go to God for awhile.

Taking a walk

Trey and our newest baby

Speaking of playtime at Mcdonald's

Has anyone ever noticed how very young kids play together? They don't care who the other kids parents are. They don't care what brand of clothes they are all wearing. They don't care who is the cutest and who is not. All little ones care about is, "do you want to play?", "ok, come on!". And then its running and jumping and screaming and laughing until somebody's mom or dad says its time to go home. Wouldn't it be nice if we always had that acceptance and innocence to "play" like that.

A Fun Night With Rex

Fun with Rex used to mean standing in front of my closet for a good 30 minutes trying to pick out just the right outfit, then an hour or more doing my hair, make up and nails, then possibly changing clothes again and touching up makeup to go with new outfit. Agonizing over all the small things was kind of fun, part of the sacred ritual of dating.
An average date for Rex and I would be dinner, maybe someplace new to try something different. Later we would drive around aimlessly listening to the radio. Then we might go to Gregg Park or the George Rogers Clark Memorial for a quiet walk. We would often go to the movies. (We have probably seen every movie made in the 90's) After the movie we would go back to the park for a talk about our future or maybe to the 6th Street McDonald's to see which of our friends were out "cruising". Then as the clock got closer to curfew time we'd rush back to my house where we'd steal as many kisses as possible in the drive until I finally had to get out of the car and rush up the sidewalk and into the house before I was too late. My heart would be all a flutter and I would lie in bed replaying the special moments of the night in my head until I finally fell asleep.
Now a fun night with Rex is a bit different. I usually take a moment to make sure there is no spit up or dried food on my clothes. If there is a stain, can it be concealed or do I really need to change clothes? I have about 3 minutes to fix my hair and apply a smidge of makeup before the baby starts to fuss. Then I quickly agonize over the small things: are there enough diapers? do I have a change of clothes for Kayelynn in case of a diaper blowout? do I have a change of clothes for Trey in case of a poopy accident? do I have the special travel potty seat to combat Trey's aversion to public toilets? do I have a sippy cup, a rattle, wet wipes, burp cloth, my wallet, keys. OK, we can go now. Everybody in the car where we will listen to a lovely selection of toddler friendly music. Then the main attraction, supper at McDonald's in Washington where Trey can play "on the big slide".
Usually there are other families there too. So, conversation isn't easy to have above the squeals of excited kids at play. After our meals are eaten and sufficient play time rendered it is a 5-10 minute process to gather the kids and our belongings and make it back to the car. For the entertainment of Rex and Trey, we will cruise through the Case dealership to Oooo and Ahhh over tractors. We will make our way back home to give the kids their baths. Then a story for Trey, cereal for Kayelynn. After all of that, Rex will curl up on the couch. I will sit in my rocker with Kayelynn. I'll nurse her to sleep while Rex and I watch tv together. We'll watch tv for awhile and talk about the plans for the next day until one of us can't stay awake any longer. A quick kiss goodnight and its off to bed.
Things sure are different for us these days but somehow I don't mind so much.

A dozen....

Yup. Just like eggs, the followers have grown to 12. My newestfollower is my friend Lindsay. We've known each other since grade school. Her son Matthew is the future hair stylist featured in my post below. (So now I've been accused of writing about peoples' kids just to get followers...) (Well...ya gotta do what ya gotta do...) : )

WARNING: scissors and toddlers dont mix

Here is proof that I am not the only person who's 3 year old does crazy things.

My friend Lindsay has a little boy named Matthew who is about 6 wks older than Trey. She also has a little boy who is 6 months old. She was getting ready to take the boys to have their pictures taken when the 3 year old found some scissors and decided to cut his own hair. (Ohhhhh Boy)

See below for what happened !

Matthew's self styling

The new look

Uh-Oh

I like shopping for little girl clothes too much!!!!!

Welcome #11

It is kind of becoming my thing to mention my new followers as they arrive. And here's another one...My friend Megan has joined the group! Welcome Megan! I miss working with you and all of the other Jasper girls! If anyone wants some extra reading, Megan has a blog @ www.worthwhileadventure.blogspot.com ,its worth a read and a prayer too. She is a great girl waiting on God to bless her with a baby.

Mommy's Tractor Boy

Our newly restored tractor

Trey wants to be a farmer like Daddy (at least today he does)

Trey in Sister's hat

Come on Spring

I'm starving for...

Lately Trey has been using the phrase "I'm starving for" instead of "I'm hungry" or "I'd like to eat". He often says,"Oh Mommy, I'm starving for fruit snacks".
Today he took a nap over at Grandma's, in her bed. I was surprised when I opened her bedroom door to wake him up. What I saw was Trey's head sticking out from a huge pile of kleenex. And when I say huge, I mean so big that I couldn't see any part of his body and two empty kleenex boxes lay on the floor. I had to bite my lip a little not to smile. I used my best angry mommy voice to say "Trey Stroud!!!" It startled him and he popped up out of the kleenex mound. I bit my lip again....he was completely naked! "Why did you make this mess?!" I demanded to know. Well, the answer seemed simple enough to him...."My nose was starving for kleenex, Mommy." (Still not sure where the naked part comes in).
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I lied....

There is one thing I am still guilty about. (Referring to my previous posts about my miscarriage). I have never told any one about this. But since I am using my blog as therapy right now, I figured I should be honest. Maybe if I write about it I can finally put the guilt away.

In april of 2004 my beloved grandfather was losing his battle with cancer. This was also around the anniversary of my miscarriage. I was an emotional mess to say the least. Losing my Grandpa was hard on the entire family. He was after all the rock, the foundation, the 'father' of my family. As the end drew near he was hospitalized. Family took turns sitting with him. He was never alone.
One night I sat with him. I held his hand. As a nurse, I was used to the monitors, tubes and wires. These things didn't bother me like they did the others. What bothered me was that I couldn't talk to him. When I worked ICU, I used to talk to my patients as I cared for them. It was easy for me and I hoped, soothing for them. Complete strangers I would talk to and calm. But my own grandpa, a man I loved, I couldn't even form a word.
Finally, without thinking, I opened my mouth and words came out. "Pap-pa", I said. " When you get to heaven, please find my baby and tell it how much it was loved. And.....and....please ask Jesus to give me another baby. Pick one out for me that is just right. " I began to cry. And my grandpa became very restless and agitated. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. I wanted to take it all back. What was I thinking? You aren't supposed to say things like that to dying people. As I watched him become more and more upset I became physically sick with guilt. What had I done? "Please don't be upset. Please don't be upset." I kept whispering. Guilt.
My cousin Mike came in to relieve me. I gave him the update but couldn't bring myself to say it was my fault my grandpa was suddenly agitated. The nurse came in and gave him some medicine to further sedate him. That was the last private moment I ever had with my grandpa. I felt like I had ruined it. I had done a very selfish thing. So much guilt....
Sometimes when I visit his grave I still ask for forgiveness. I know I am forgiven because I know he loved me and wouldn't want me carrying this guilt. But I still ask for forgiveness time and time again. I even ask God for forgiveness because I feel like what I said was some sort of sin. After my son was born I felt a little better about things. Trey began to look a lot like my father's baby pictures. I couldn't help but think this was because my grandpa really had helped pick out a baby for me.
I still wish I could go back and make my last words to my grandpa something else, anything else. But I can't. Guilt.

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Grief became Guilt

I did not handle my miscarriage very well. I couldn't figure out how to handle it. I couldn't accept it and move on. For the rest of that year I would mentally count off where I would be in my pregnancy. November 6 came and went with only my tears to mark the day.
Also during that year my cousin and sister became pregnant. Joy filled the family. I was happy but sad. A year earlier I had spent several nights on the phone with my sister. We were planning how perfect it would be to be pregnant together. Now I had lost a baby, she was pregnant and I was not. I felt guilty for being jealous. Especially guilty when my sister called to tell me first that she was pregnant, before anyone else. I was speechless. Her next statement was "you're not mad are you?". No not mad. More guilt though for feeling like I had just told a lie. I wasn't mad at her though.
Then later I found out that my cousin's baby was going to be born with some abnormalities. I felt guilty. I had no reason to but I did.
A few years later I still was not pregnant. Each month I felt the loss all over again. I also found that it is hard to believe in God and be angry with him. I felt guilty over that.
Then finally in 2005 I became pregnant again. I was happy but had some emotional times in the beginning where I felt guilty. I still longed for the baby I had lost not for the one I had been given. I felt detached from this new pregnancy and afraid it would disappear too if I couldn't love it enough. Guilt, guilt, guilt.
It is not healthy to live with that much guilt.
Happily I can tell you that I am better now. The guilt is gone My two beautiful children have helped with that. Giving up my grudge against God was the biggest help. Time really does heal all wounds. I just didn't realize how much time it would take. I still think about the what if's, especially at this time of the year. Sometimes when I look at my niece or my cousin's daughter I get a funny feeling. But it passes quickly and there is no more guilt.
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My story of grief

This journal entry was written on April 17, 2002

"I just can't write quick enough. Things are changing so fast in my world that I can't keep up.
Around the 3rd week of March, before Rex left for C-4 ( a 2 week combat care course in Texas), Dr Quinlan said he'd do an ultra sound for us. I thought I was 5-6 wks along. Being an ob nurse I already had my due date figured, Nov 6. But, all the U/S showed was a yolk sac, no fetal pole. Dr Quinlan did some quant. levels. He was reassuring and said we'd recheck in a week.
I was positive something was wrong. I knew my dates had to be right. We should have seen a baby! I cried and cried. Poor Rex didn't know what to do with me. But I finally came around and I prayed and I prayed and tried to stay positive.
I called my mom and told her. Its not how I wanted to tell her but the family was coming the next week. I thought she should know what was going on. I knew I would be an emotional mess if I had another bad U/S while they were all here.
So, the last week of March rolls around and Mom went with me to my appt. Never was I so happy as I was when I saw that tiny speck that was my baby and the small fluttering that was the beginnings of my baby's heartbeat.
I had a great week with my family. Mom, Ashley and I did lots of baby shopping, even bought a few things. I started collecting maternity clothes as we found them on sale. Rex came home on the 30th and I felt like everything was right in my world.
Then April 9 everything went wrong. I was almost 10 wks along. It was time for another U/S. This time Rex was with me and we were looking forward to seeing the little one swimming about.
There was no swimming. The baby was still there but not much bigger than last time I'd seen it. And there was a little dark spot where a flickering light had been before. I knew it was not right and even if I hadn't the looks on Rex's and Dr. Quinlan's faces told the story. Sometime in the past three weeks, my baby had died.
I was devastated. Even as I am writing this now, 8 days later, I am devastated still. I had all of the typical reactions, tears, questions-why? What did I do wrong?, then and now there is some anger. I wanted this baby very badly. Life is not fair to have taken that joy from me. I feel cheated.
Rex is trying to help me but he doesn't really know how. I don't know how. He wants to try again in a few months.
Right now my little one is still safe inside of me. I did not have the heart to have Dr. Quiinlan take it out. I hope that in its own time the baby will pass without me becoming sick or needing a D&C. I really hope for a miracle, that Gumby's heart will beat again. But I know that won't happen.
If only I could write down words that could describe the depths of my sadness. But why would I want to leave such sadness here for someone else to find one day? I hope that one day God will give me another baby. I hope..."

On April 21st I wrote " my miscarriage is over". And I didn't write again until Rex went to Iraq almost a year later. Even then, I only made a handful of entries over a 6 year period.
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How my story begins

February 28, 2002. My 4th wedding anniversary. I am living in Jacksonville, FL where Rex is stationed at NAS JAX. I had a crazy suspicion the night before that I could be pregnant due to some very crazy breast sensitivity and the knowledge of some forgotten birth control pills that month and a Valentines day that really fell on the 14th of "my month". I had taken 2 pregnancy tests that night. The first one I had tossed in the trash. Then hours later I found an extra line on it. Thus, I took the second test which was a very weak positive. This was a totally unplanned pregnancy but so wanted by me. I was feeling unsure about Rex. He was in the middle of his internship, over-worked and sleep deprived. He couldn't keep track of what day it was. And when it came to our futures he was a planner. How would he wrap his brain around an unplanned pregnancy? Here is part of my journal entry from that day.

"I tossed and turned. Finally around 3 I got up and went to the bathroom. And what did I do? Yup, I took another test. It was positive too.
Now I am feeling very scared. Excited too but so scared that now I am crying. I didn't have any idea how I was going to tell Rex. And I was very nervous what his reaction would be.
I needed to talk to someone. Rex is who I wanted but he was on call and I didn't want to discuss things over the phone. The only person I knew who might be awake at 4am was Ginny. (A very good friend and fellow navy intern's wife). So after a few more tears I called her. She's good to talk to. She helped to calm me down and reassured me about telling Rex. After getting off the phone with her I got up and got ready for work and went in early. There I had another urine test and a blood test done. Positive and positive. You'd think as an ob nurse I'd believe it already but I was still freaking out.
All I could think about was how to tell Rex. It was our anniversary and he was post call. All day at work I worried and fretted over it. The other nurses could tell something was going on with me. It was a slow day and Mrs A ( a wonderful and hilarious filipino nurse) let me leave early to 'talk' to Rex.
He was asleep in bed when I got home. I woke him up and we discussed whether we should go out or stay in. I suggested we go out but open anniversary gifts first.
I made him close his eyes because I hadn't had time to wrap his sword. He liked it. (Its the naval officer sword and he'd been eyeing it a long time). He played around with it for a few minutes. Then I took it back. (I figured it was safer for me to have the sword when I told him this next part)
I made him close his eyes again telling him I just got this gift on short notice. I told him that when he opened his eyes he should say hello to his baby. So he opens his eyes, looks at me and says hello. I knew he hadn't got my drift. I looked at him for the longest time with a goofy grin on my face. I thought he'd read my mind but he didn't. Like I said, he was post call which is similar to being brain dead.
' You don't get it' I said. I patted my belly and said 'baby'. He still looked at me blankly until I said 'your baby'. Then the blank look turned to shock and my heart stopped for a minute. But he took me in his arms and my heart started beating again. 'Are you sure?' He asked. I had to go get the stack of pregnancy tests for him to see. He chuckled a little and I could tell it was starting to sink in.
The first thing he actually said after several minutes was 'siemper gumby'. Now I thought he was losing it again. He kept laughing to himself and picked up the phone to call one of his staff doctors, Dr. Shaughnessy. I think because of the shock his priorities were a little messed up.
But Dr. Shaughnessy had known that I was pregnant. He'd let me order my tests under his name. Rex liked him a lot and I had asked him to keep an eye on Rex at work. I didn't know how he'd take the news and I knew he was stressed already.
It turns out that Dr. Shaughnessy had a heart to heart with Rex earlier today. Siemper Gumby is a made up Marine saying that means 'always flexible'. Rex didn't understand the talk until finding out about my pregnancy. That has become our motto and our little fetus is fondly referred to as Gumby now. "

We went out with our friends Lou and Ginny that night. Over dinner we talked and laughed about becoming parents ( they were expecting twins in June). When we got home Rex said he was happy and that made me happy.
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A preface to my next post

I hesitate to add this to my blog. I have wanted to talk about it from time to time but it is not upbeat or perky (which I really strive for). In high school I used to keep a journal faithfully. Even in college and during the early part of my marriage I kept it. Now that I am blogging it reminds me why I used to journal so much. I like to write. I have for a very long time. Its different now because people are reading my thoughts. But still I like to write and I feel happier now that I am writing on a daily basis. I am going to share a journal entry with everyone now. There are a lot of people I know of that I hope this will help in their own personal struggles. And maybe there are a lot of people I don't know of that this will help too.
If there is one thing I have learned in life, it is that everyone has a personal story of grief. Each story is special in a way. I heal by hearing others' stories as well as remembering my own. Forgive me for using my normally happy, somewhat comical blog as an outlet for my grief.
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How the living room campout went wrong.

It was a lazy Saturday at our house and Trey seemed a little bored. I guessed that he was bored because he was sitting on the couch, talking to himself with a blanket over his head. This made me think of something fun we could do that my dad used to do for me and my sister. We made a tent out of blankets! Trey loved it. He took some stuffed animals under along with some trains. He was having quite a time!
Then I hear him say "oh, oh, ohhhhh" in a desperate kind of way. "What's the matter?" I asked. Well, I knew as soon as he crawled out and I could see the look on his face. Its all fun and games until somebody poops their pants!
What a mess it was! 5 days of poop is too much to come out of a person at one time! Trey has had a bath and is now in bed to take a nap and "think about what he did". And I am here wondering what happened to my laid back Saturday.

I am exhausted

I have nothing to show for all of my exhaustion.
The baby has learned that a small cry or whine will not get her the attention she wants. So for the past two or three days she ramps it all the way up to the red faced, top of her lungs, "someone's killin' me scream" for things like being laid down or being left alone in a room.
All the while the three year old is refusing to poop again. It doesn't make any sense to me but he will do whatever it takes not to use the bathroom. After somehow managing to pee on every stitch of clothing he was wearing while sitting on his potty, then he spent the next 30 minutes crying on the toilet that he couldn't go. He is so strong willed! No bribe would work. I have finally put him to bed. Kayelynn cried herself to sleep while I was messing with Trey. Now I am sitting in my rocking chair surrounded by toys of all kinds and laundry that needs folded. I feel like a vegetable and hope we all wake up tomorrow with brighter outlooks on life.

10 Followers

By now I'm sure you all know how excited I get over new followers. I am now in the double digits! So welcome and thanks to munchkin rn who has joined the group.
Now the next thing on my brain is... Who is munchkin rn? I'm trying to guess. Please leave me a comment and let me know who you are so I can put my brain power towards more important matters. (Unless of course by revealing yourself that would break some sort of secret blog rule I don't know about, in that case just leave me to wonder. ) ( It probably won't really drive me crazy) (probably.....)
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My Shoes

I am cursed with being overly sentimental about things. And today (call me crazy) I found myself being sentimental over my old blue crocks. They aren't as cute and bright as they used to be. The tread is gone. There are drips of paint dried on them now. All of my jibbits but one have been lost or broken. And until I hosed them off this evening, they had a bit of dirt, mulch and cow manure on them.
I got these shoes probably 4 years ago from the Jasper Memorial gift shop. I bought them on a whim with a co-worker. She got a pink pair. We thought they'd be something fun to wear with our scrubs at work. Prior to that everyone wore white, more traditional nursing shoes. We caused a bit of a stir with our silly shoes but we liked them and continued to wear them.
These shoes have seen many lives come in to this world and they've been there as a few tiny lives have ended too soon. These shoes have seen me giggle with friends,cry, complain, be frustrated and furious. These shoes have walked dim hallways at 3am to help a mom nurse her new baby. They have run to a labor room to help another nurse in a bad situation with a laboring patient. These shoes have seen a lot of things....
But like me, these shoes are retired from the world of labor and delivery. Or are we? Now these shoes have been thrown on to go out and check on momma cows and goats with their babies. Life in a way isn't so different.
March brings my favorite time in living on the farm, the babies are born! For the next few months these shoes will be busy making sure all of the calves and goat kids make it into the world and thrive. And occasionally these shoes will still see me shed a tear for a life lost. But for the most part me and my shoes will be happy watching life renew itself.

But I don't want to move my clocks up...

This was my response when husband asked why the clocks weren't changed around our house.
What would happen if I just stayed on my own time? Everybody can do their own spring forward, fall back crap. I'm just going to continue on in my own time zone where it is what time it is and you can't just say "oh I want it to be later now so I'm just going to change my clock ". I mean really, its march...its usually cold, rainy and dreary... do we really need the sun to still be out at 8pm? I am going to say no. But at 6 am when people are getting up to make their way to work, is too much to ask for the sun to be up too? (Apparently it is to much to ask)
How arrogant are we, as humans, that we think we can just change time whenever we want?!? What if people decided they didn't like August anymore because it was too hot. Would we take a vote and just skip ahead to September?!? Egads!!!
So I guess I'm trying to say that I feel some dislike for this whole daylight savings time thing. My baby doesn't realize that we switched time. So now the schedule we had going is all off. And yes, its only off by an hour but my 3 year old didn't get the time change memo either and an hour just seems to make a big difference. And my poor body still goes thru night shift flash backs at times. This stupid hour has made my night crazies flare up. I don't mind the night crazies so much at night. Its in the morning when it hurts. And when morning comes and I'm sleeping really well and my dreams are very sweet and then.... in the distance there is a baby crying and then... an earthquake...no wait...that's the 3 year old jumping on my bed and that crying... its not in the distance its right beside me and its not crying its wailing..... When all that stuff in the previous run on sentence
happens... I curse the people who have put this daylight savings time upon me! So, no!!! No, I say!!! I will not move my clocks up!!! Who's with me?

Kayelynn's first solid meal (in pictures)

Mmmmm...what's this stuff?

What does this thing do?

OK. I've got it figured out now.

We're gonna need a bigger bib!

"I want to help too Mom"

I know she looks upset but she is actually demanding more.

Rice Cereal Nirvana

Full tummy = happiness

Something Random

>For Valentine's day, Trey got a box of animal crackers. After his nap, he requested a snack. I opened the cabinet to see what kind of snackage we had and there were the animal crackers sitting on the shelf looking at me. As I reached for the box I was flooded with memories.



Now this wasn't just any box of animal crackers. It was a box of Barnum's Animals. Maybe you have seen these before. The box is red. It is a small rectangle shape with a little white string attached as a handle. I remember being a young girl and strutting around with my box of cookies, holding the box by its string handle, toting it like it was a designer handbag. I remember studying the package closely. Each side of the box is divided to look like animal cages. Pictured in each cage is a different animal-a momma and her baby-ready to perform at the circus.



I got the box of cookies down and opened them. Trey was excited with this treat and ran off to the living room to examine it more closely. I followed him to the living room and sat beside him on the couch. The memories came too and covered me like a warm blanket. It wasn't the memory of eating the cookies as a child that I was remembering. It was a person I was remembering, a wonderful, loving person.



As strange as it may seem, this box of Barnum's Animal Crackers always brings the same thing to my mind. Its like the ink blot tests that shrinks use. Show me a box of these cookies and I will automatically think of my great grandmother Wynona Lamar, my Mam-ma Noni. The older I get the fewer specific things I can remember about her. I think she passed away when I was around 12.



But the box of cookies has some sort of magical memory powers because as I sat and watched Trey eat those cookies, I really did get a warm feeling inside. I could feel her loving me again.



She had a soft quiet way about her. I don't remember her ever raising her voice to me or anyone. She was so loving. I did not see her very often because we lived apart but when we did visit, I did not feel scared or uncomfortable the way kids sometimes do with adults they don't know well. There was always much to do with Mam-ma Noni. She lived on a farm. I got to go along with her to gather eggs. (I was not accustomed to brown eggs and got a thrill out of retrieving these because I believed they were chocolate. ) We would check her garden together, look at her flowers growing, then take a moment to sit in her backyard swing. After a rest we'd go into the shed near the house where the deep freeze was and she would select things to fix for lunch. Always, one of these things would be her home grown lima beans. I loved these. (Yes really, I was a kid who liked lima beans!) These were the best lima beans ever. I don't know how they could be so much better than others but they were. She had a nick name for me too. She called me her "wish I don't" girl. I think this name came from me being little and instead of saying "I don't want to...", I'd say "wish I don't". For example, mom or dad would say,"Heather, its time to leave Mam-ma Noni's house". I'd reply, in a sweet, angelic voice, "wish I don't". ( Adorable, huh)



I could write an entire essay on things I remember doing with her, things I remember about her or her house. As I write this, more and more memories keep coming. But the cookies....that is what always starts the memories. I'm sure I got boxes of those cookies from other people too as I grew up but my mind only links them to my Mam-ma Noni. I don't know if she had an endless supply of those cookies in one of her kitchen cabinets, or if she always kept one or two boxes on hand for surprise visits, but all visits to her house would involve a box of those cookies and a smile from her to me.



So there you have it. Now, if you see me smiling at a little red box of animal crackers, you'll know I am picturing myself as a little girl with dark, bouncing piggy tails running along to get a hug (and maybe a box of cookies) from my great grandma Noni.



If this post has reminded you of something random that brings you a memory, please share it with me in my comment section.

Have Office, Will Examine

Before I get to the point of this post, let me just say thanks to my two newest followers. I thought there was a mistake when I checked this morning and there were 9 followers. Just 12 hours earlier there had only been 7. How excited was I to see some of my Jasper pals added to the following list. You guys rock! Seriously, having followers gives me a feeling of justification for all of my ramblings. I feel like my blog may have a purpose. I will combat your boredom loyal followers: this is my solemn vow. (how big of a dork am I right now ?!?)

Today is a special day at the Stroud household. We have been remodeling a room at the farm house and it was completed today. Stroud Medical has its first office room. It is a far cry from the state of the art medical centers out there. But it is clean and new and will due just fine for now. I couldn't help but feel some pride as I washed the walls down after the construction crew had finished. I am full of optimism today. This is our start. Our little dream has a place to grow now. Spread the word...its official...Stroud Medical can come to your home or you can come to ours!

A Note About Nothing

Being sick is no fun! Exactly how much snot can one person produce? My throat has been so sore that I actually considered keeping a container with me to spit in just so I could avoid the pain of swallowing. My ears have so much pressure behind them that I actually found myself wanting to poke pins thru my eardrums. And then there are the fevers, chills, sweats, aches, three year olds and breastfeeding babies.....
Thank goodness for my mother in law who has kept Trey for the past two afternoons. The highlight of my morning was checking my blogsite and finding that I am up to seven followers. Thank you number seven, you gave me the will to live. : )
I was starting to think the babysitter was crazy. We've all been keeping our eye on little Kayelynn, waiting for her to show off her rolling talents. Finally, as I was lying lifelessly on the couch, she decided to roll. There was some sort of green fuzzy toy that must have been very intriguing lying just out of her reach. It was enough motivation to get her to roll to her belly. She then thought she was stuck, got tired of drooling on the green fuzzy thing and cried. But it was amazing! And the highlight of my afternoon.
So let's recap: feel like crap, have seven followers, baby rolled over, pretty good day!

A prayer for my son

A few weeks ago I took Trey to the park. It was too cold to get out of the car. We drove around for a bit. He likes to look at the lake and the ducks and geese. I parked the car near the water and almost instantly we were surrounded by a mob of feathered beggars. It was obvious that these birds were used to receiving a free snack from parked cars. I couldn't resist indulging in this little past time. I wanted to see what Trey would think of feeding the ducks.

He loved it. (Of course! What's not to love?) He giggled and squealed while he tossed french fries out the window. Then I heard him say. "Oooo! That duck is beautiful!". (When he said it, it really sounded like boooteeful. But you get the idea. )

I strained to look behind me for what had caught his eye. Coming toward the masses was a gray goose. It walked with a limp and was not moving too quickly. This goose also had a broken or deformed wing. The wing on its left side was splayed forward in an unnatural angle. This awkward lie made the goose's feathers fan out like a peacocks tail. Some of the other geese pecked at it as it came closer, most ignored it. But my son thought this goose was the most beautiful bird in the park. He tried very hard to toss his french fries to this particular goose and he was thrilled when the goose with the broken wing finally got a fry.

So this is my prayer for my little boy: may he always see the beautiful side of people, even when the rest of the flock finds someone to be different. This would make me a very proud mother.