Define: Three

Beckett had this third birthday last week.  Three years seems to have flown by, yet at the same time it seems like he's just always been a part of our family.

Beckett's words have really made leaps and bounds over the last month or two.  He was evaluated a few months ago, and his speech was a little bit behind.  We worried that he had been having some ear problems, and that maybe his pronunciation was off because he couldn't hear us.  Our audiology appointment at Mott's went really well (and what a cool facility!), and they said his ears looked great.  He's started stringing more words together lately, and repeats just about everything we say (great for progress, not always great for us to hear what he's hearing from us...).

Whenever we asked him how old he was going to be for his birthday, he'd put his finger on his chin and say, "Hmm...two!" We would say, "No, try again..."  And he would say, "Hmm...one!"

Meltdowns at three are both funny and maddening.  Yesterday, he was upset about something, and I was trying to deal with that.  Jericho was also in the kitchen, and had crawled over to the cat food.  She started to dump the bowl on the floor when Beckett realized what she was doing, which just pushed him further into his meltdown.  I tried to tell him that I couldn't go take care of Jericho until he stopped freaking out, but Jericho spilling more cat food made him freak out more...I was really glad when Jamin got home.

For a while I've been disappointed with the amount of time I spend on my phone, and now that Beckett is a little more independent, I feel even worse.  Whenever he asks for a game, or my phone, or to watch something, I have a pang of conviction.  I know that it's unrealistic to think I can keep him away from all technology, and even if I could, I don't think I would want to.  I just don't want it to be a focus in his life, I want him to play with toys, to go outside, to catch bugs and play in the mud.  A lot of times I convince myself that it's too hard to do those things because of where we live, and truly, that is a factor, but I also know that if I were to be truly intentional about it, those things would happen.

One of his birthday gifts - this kid has a lot of people who love him!

At three years old...when he's throwing himself on the floor screaming because we said no to a video game (which he's actually doing at this very moment), it's hard.  When it's been an hour since we put him in bed and I hear his door open again, it's hard.  When he's been sitting in time out for 15 minutes because he won't just look me in the eyes when I'm talking to him, it's hard.  But when he smiles and runs to me when I get home, it's worth it.  When he learns something new and is so excited to show me, it's worth it.  When he says, "Love you, mama" (even with the prompting), it's worth it.  When he runs up and wants snuggle (which is the point of the meltdown he's just reached), it's worth it.  It's all worth it, and I am so blessed to call this three-year-old crazy kid mine.

This is his picture pose...ugh.

Define: Reboot

My last post was in 2013, which seems weird, but also sounds about right.  Life has gotten much busier since then, but oh so much fuller and wonderful.

Beckett, who hadn't even been born yet, is almost three!  I was thinking about that today, and I don't know if that seems like a really short time, or a really long time.  Three years doesn't sound that long, but I can't imagine life without him, either.
Beckett, at almost three, is a busy boy.  He has so. much. energy.  He was sick a few weeks ago, and I kept saying I was worried about how lethargic he was, until my mother-in-law mentioned that what I was calling extreme lethargy was just normal sick kid.
Being a big brother has really suited Beckett.  We never had any problems with him being jealous, or acting out after Jericho was born.  He says, "Aww!" or "Sweet!" in this super high pitched voice, and gives her a hug about 20 times a day.  We did worry at the beginning that he'd accidentally smother her when trying to cover her with a blanket, but she did survive.  The worry now is just being gentle in general, which he's still working on.
His words have made leaps and bounds in the last couple months, but sometimes I like it more when he doesn't quite know how to say what he means.  Whenever I say, "I love you, Beckett," he says right back, "Love you, Beckett."  I just say I'm glad he has so much self-esteem at this age.
Particular is a good word for describing Beckett.  He likes things to be done just so, and will have a nice almost-three-years-old meltdown if they aren't.  Some of the things we have done horribly wrong include: the wrong person buckling him into the car, the wrong person unbuckling him from the car, opening the fruit snacks, not opening the fruit snacks, and so on.  I don't know how we managed to get anything done without him, since everything we have ever done is wrong.

Jericho, who is almost one, is such a mama's girl.  I have always been so upset whenever Beckett wants Jamin instead of me, and this is my punishment reward.  Today while Jamin was in the shower, Beckett told me he needed to use the potty.  I set Jericho down to help him, and she screamed so loud and for so long that Jamin asked what had happened to her when he got out of the shower.  I had to reassure him that she had not been hurt.  He tried to take her from me, at which point she began to sob hysterically (she didn't even leave my arms, she just lost it when he reached for her).  It's a real love/hate relationship with the attachment.  I do enjoy feeling needed, and I love all the snuggles and spending time with her, but I really struggle to get things done.
Jericho loves Beckett.  She's been watching him for as long as she could see him, and her face lights up when she sees him.  She does, however, screech like a banshee when Beckett takes something away from her now.  For a while she just let it happen, but now she lets him (and everyone in the neighborhood) know that she's not happy.
She already says something that sounds like "bye bye" and waves when prompted, and loves to say "uh oh."  She's been pulling herself up for a while now, and is able to take steps holding onto hands (even though she looks a little drunk).  She wants to do what Beckett does so badly that I wouldn't be surprised if she gets walking down before her birthday.

Recently I've really gotten back into knitting.  As a result, I now have a yarn addiction.  My sister sent me a picture of her "huge stash" and I just laughed.  A co-worker got her daughter a loom-type thing for Christmas and I told her not to buy yarn, but to just take some of mine.  I gave her 3 plastic bags full, and I am ashamed to say it didn't really even make a dent.  Some of the yarn I pick up I'm too scared to use.  It's so pretty, and I'm afraid I'll waste it by making something terrible, so it just sits and waits while I buy more.  I vaguely remember saying I wouldn't buy any more until I used up some of my stash about a year ago.  I think Jamin knew it wouldn't happen, but he pretended to believe in me (while also letting me buy more yarn).
Between work and the kids, I don't get as much time to do it as I'd like, but I usually get in at least a couple rows a day.  It's something I've really grown to love doing, and it's a good way to wind down at the end of the day.

And that brings me to why I'm writing.  I need to take some time for myself, time to be by myself, to gather my thoughts, to remember what's going on at this busy stage of our lives, and to write it down because heaven knows that between the potty accidents, the food on the floor, the screeching, the tears, the skinned knees, the diaper changes, and the bumped heads, I need to take the time to savor the hugs, the giggles, the story times, the kisses, the snuggles, the new words, the walks, the games, the tickles, the "Love you, Beckett"s.

So...here we go.
SaveSave

Monday Morning Blues...

Do you want to know what happened last Monday morning at camp? Of course you do.



First, my watch died. Which stinks, because I have to be certain places at certain times, and that's harder when you don't know what time it is. Next, I took my cabin down to the Cedar Center for breakfast. When we were done praying, I said, "Amen." Then something hit my nose. I figured it was water from the tree above me. It was still morning, there's dew and all that, right? I wiped it off with my finger, and looked. Brown, with a hint of white. Yes, that's right, bird poop. On my face. On the way back to the cabin after breakfast, I hardcore twisted my ankle. During classes, Becca and I got to drive the golf cart around and take pictures. As we were driving, we noticed this smell. It smelled like something burning, but we figured it was a campfire (which we did think was a little strange, because it was pretty early and we didn't see one). When we got to the paintball class, my boss Kyle said he was going to ride back with us. While we were walking to the golf cart, I was telling Kyle what had happened earlier. A few feet from the golf cart, we realized that it was smoking. Kyle summed it up nicely: "Well, that's not good..." He walked up and picked up my bag. Now, you need to understand, I've had this bag for a year. It's hot pink with black cats all over it, and I love it. It's a cinch top backpack that my friend Leah's mom made for me. When Kyle picked it up, we saw that one of the straps had been singed off. Kyle and Becca looked at me, and I didn't know what to do, so I started laughing, and so did they. What kills me is that Becca and I SMELLED IT BURNING, we just didn't know what it was. No wonder the smell was following us around camp. After stomping out the rest of the embers on the strap, we got back on the golf cart and went down to the main part of camp again. On the way back to the cabins to get ready for lunch, I was telling Jon my day up until that point, and I was showing him where I twisted my ankle, and lo and behold, I twist the other one on the following step.

All this before lunch.

The next day, Tuesday, I was out taking pictures again. I was wearing a bright orange shirt when I went out to the paintball course. I thought it would be cool to get some pictures out in the field, so I informed all the boys that I would be out there, wearing my bright orange shirt and a white towel tied on my arm (theirs were red and blue to mark teams). I told them I wouldn't be hiding, I'd be out in the open, and asked them to please not shoot me because I had the camp's camera (although sometimes I wish we had a different one...). All was well for a while, until I got between the two teams. The blue team waved me past them so that they could shoot at the reds, so I walked right past them. They knew I was there, they'd just waved me past. And it was literally right past them, we were barely ten feet apart. So I got past their line, and then someone from the blue team turned around and shot me. I yelled, and everyone was like, "Who shot the girl?!" The boy said that it was an accident, but I don't know. The thing is, he didn't fire like, four shots and one of them hit me. It was a single shot, square on the shoulder. He totally aimed, and he HAD to see that it was an orange shirt. Plus, I JUST walked past them. It splattered in my hair and all over my neck, and some even made it into my mouth. It was loooooovely.



However, other than that, I had an amazing week. That was my best week counseling out of this year and last, and I wouldn't change a thing.
:)

Things to Do Before I Die: Updated

- Meet someone named Sven
- Write a song
- Go skydiving
- Ride a horse around a racetrack
- Go on a road trip
- Bungee jump
- Climb a mountain
- Learn a trick on a skateboard
- Get splashed by a car driving through a puddle
- Fly an airplane
- Ice skate with a pillow on my butt
- Go to all 50 states
- See something on Broadway
- Sleep for an entire day
- Start a fire by rubbing two sticks together
- See the northern lights
- Have a temporary tattoo sleeve
- Learn to drive a semi
- Lie low across the border for a few days
- Build an igloo
- Hear a whale's song
- See a platypus in real life
- Get my motorcycle license
- Hit someone with a pie
- Read every book C.S. Lewis wrote
- Go snowboarding
- Be in a food fight
- Crowd surf
- Write a book
- Learn to play the drums
- Get a picture on Jones Soda
- Make a blanket and donate it to the Linus Foundation
- Swim in all five Great Lakes
- See the sunrise at Lake Huron/Lake Erie, then drive to Lake Michigan to watch it set
- Go surfing
- Go skinny dipping