Because Sometimes You Can't be Peter Pan...

"I want to be like Peter Pan. I don't want to grow up. When it's time to be a man, I'm not gonna' show up," is probably one of my top favorites from the movie "Hook" with Robin Williams. Love that movie. Love anything about Peter Pan, really.

I'm one of those people who got slightly depressed at the thought of turning 20. Yep, you read that right: 2 0. Not having "teen" in my age really made me feel I was growing up way too fast. I wanted to stay child forever. I wanted that since as long as I can remember. I guess somehow I knew from a very young age that adulthood came with tons more responsibility and a lot less carefreeness.

This week I feel as though I have taken yet another step away from childhood and have become a little more grounded in adulthood... We have parted with something that held memories of the past two and a half plus years... And why is it that we get so attached to worldly things? Why do we attach such strong emotion to something that isn't going to last for more than an earthly time? ... Because, really, it's just a c a r. 

But it was fun. And it was red.

And my son learned to "help" his daddy every time they washed it together... 

They learned to "drive"... and of course were super excited about that... 

And then there's this. just. this.

We became creative, to say the least, when it came to packing for road trips. 

Found a double stroller that actually fit in the "boot" of the car- with space to spare for diaper bag (phil&ted's classic - with a backpack style diaper bag). 

And realized the many uses of a sunroof (like opening it on the highway to drown out the noises of two screaming, tantrum throwing, nap refusing toddlers). 

But alas, our newest addition's impending day of birth has forced us a step further into adulthood. re: we had to get a "legitimate" family car... 

So this is adieu to our spunky little Mini Cooper, and aloha to our able-to-seat-7 (but still has a sunroof!) family car - it's a tad bittersweet... 

...but my hubby did steal me a memento... so there is that :) 

Three Musketeers are Exhausting

I always wanted to be a mom. There was something about the childhood years that I always felt a kindred spirit with. Babysitting was a hobby to me. I loved exploring the world through a three year old's eyes. The newness of everything, the innocence they could see... the unfaltering faith of that age gave me many times over a freshness of face when dealing with issues I saw as "end of the world," type issues... And of course, they weren't. 

The perspective that little tiny humans can have- these first years of life are so incredible. It sometimes blows my mind if I sit and think about just how unattached my son is to worldly things, and how much more it means to him to go out into nature and just be. His contentment at simple things is refreshing. As is my daughter's. 

But, despite this refreshment, the reminders of the goodness of life, and the perspective of toddlers... Being a mom is hard. Being a wife is hard. Being a daughter is hard. Being a friend is hard. Being a light in this world for His name's sake... it's hard. 

I don't know how many married women with infants in the house wake up on a daily basis and can fully and joyfully give their day solely to Him who created it... I am not among that number, however big or small it is. Having children has made me more jealous of my time. I cling to it as though it is my freedom, my lifeline, my hope. I really do. I list everything I do (careful to avoid everything I don't get done) and say "I deserve some quality all 'me to myself' time." And I feel as though I have been deprived of something when I don't receive it. 

Raising kids is exhausting. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. Just the other day Tucker started the "Why?" phase. And let me tell you, after 6 hours of that question I was ready to rip my hair out and lock myself in my room. I think the only thing that stopped me was the fact my room is not sound proof, and I still would have been able to hear him asking, "Why?!" 

I ask him not to do something (like: Don't throw things at your sister!) and he responds with: Why? (without actually stopping the action) and continues to repeat "Why?" no matter how I respond... Exhaustion. 

Over the Christmas holidays Maddie slept in the room in her portacrib, Tucker was in a different room... And Maddie snores. Needless to say, I did not get much rest. Especially when she woke up at five in the morning every morning making her motor noise trying to soothe herself. Exhaustion. 

And then there's the big thing. I'm fourteen weeks pregnant. Yep. Fourteen weeks. Need I say more? Exhaustion!

And morning pregnancy sickness has been taking it's toll. Big time. So, while gagging at the turkey that I feed my kids for lunch, stressing out over the little insignificant things of this world, listening to my son ask me "Why?" for the twelfth time that day (and knowing that whatever he wants to know I can't answer to his satisfaction), all while going on sleep that has been disrupted multiple times by a child waking up... or by the need to use the bathroom... I hear one thing over and over in my mind, "I need a vacation." 

Like when you are depressed and the only thing you can think is, "I'm tired... I'm tired... I'm T I R E D." Repeating it over and over doesn't help, it makes it worse. With each repetition your eyelids feel a little bit heavier, until finally you are sound asleep, most likely in a very uncomfortable position. Repeating the phrase, "I need a vacation... I need a vacation... I need a V A C A T I O N." Over and over again, dreaming about a remote bungalow on a deserted beach somewhere, and thinking about not hearing a crying child for a week, (at minimum)... That, doesn't help. It changes nothing. Helps with nothing. Feeds depression. 

So, here I sit, awaiting the inevitable arrival of our third little musketeer, sometime in the beginning of July, (yay firework baby!) ... Listening to my son ask me "Why?" in response to something I told him not to do (not sure what it was, but no matter, he's just going to ask me the same question when I answer him anyways), and watching my daughter stand up in the middle of the room as she contemplates what taking her first step will look like (and then promptly sits back down... maybe next time kid)... 

With all that said, 
Hello 2013, glad you could make it. And welcome... 

to CrAzY.