and the time.. it goes.

and just like that, the time keeps going.

It's such a strange paradox, to experience time as a mother.

The days are long, laborious, and repetitive. My mornings are filled with finding socks and packing lunches. I fill the same coffee cup, drive the same thirty miles, and sit in the same classes. Drive back the same way.. Evenings are filled with writing numbers and letters. Gathering up hats and gloves in order to ride bikes quickly before I must start dinner. Again.

bath, books, bed. wash, rinse, repeat.

When the alarm goes off at 6:24, and the house is dark and quiet, it seems like it will be an eternity before I'm able to lay my head back down to breathe in the warm air of sleep.  But before I know it, the house is dark and quiet again.

wash, rinse, repeat.

I looked at Christian today and he looked six years old. He's been six since October, but today, I looked at him and he looked six. It made my heart ache a little bit. I think about how quickly these years have gone by. I think about another six years passing and my heart ache sharpens from a dull grief to a sharp panic.

I'm not ready. I need to prepare for what will happen. I need to prepare for how to be a mother to bigger boys, boys who are are ten, eleven, twelve... I need it to slow down, so I can savor every bit of magic that lingers in the length of these days. I need to remember that days are long but years are short and it's vital not to get swallowed up by the monotony.

Whether I'm ready or not, the time will move.

We'll ride bikes a tad longer tomorrow, the bath isn't going anywhere.

Until next time,
Carmen

the bully that spilled my kid's milk.

Christian got bullied at school earlier this week. In the cafeteria at lunch. He came home in tears and it took every ounce of everything I had not to cry as he told me what happened. Evidently a first-grade boy purposely knocked over Christian's milk and proceeded to put his hat, gloves, and lunchbox in the puddle of milk.  I was equal parts furious and heartbroken, on the inside of course. I tried my absolute best to be supportive on the outside. To turn this into a learning opportunity, and be a warm place for Christian to snuggle and recuperate his sad little soul. 

As soon as he had bounced back enough to go play, I sent a I'mSuperPissedButI'mTryingToMaintainMyComposure email to both his teacher and principal about the incident. Let me start by saying that I LOVE Christian's teacher so much. I wasn't the least bit surprised when she emailed me back first thing the next morning and was already on top of it. Yos, Christian, and I were able to meet with his teacher and the principal that afternoon to discuss the details of the event and they reassured me that the bully had been identified and was serving an appropriate consequence. 

I HATE that my son was picked on. He is my son. Nobody is allowed to hurt his feelings. I'm almost surprised by how I reacted. I was a mama bear. I was going to do whatever I had to in order to make sure that this was going to be fixed - that this other little boy would be spoken with about how wrong it is to pick on other kids. 

As we left the school after that meeting, finally, the steam coming out of my ears had been replaced with satisfaction and optimism that this wouldn't happen again. In the relief, I found myself thinking about this other boy. At seven years old, this isn't quite like the time a couple years ago where Nolan bit the tot sitting next to him at daycare to see what would happen. Now, that was mean too, but this child is at an age where he can likely understand that it is wrong to tease other children. To spill their milk and laugh while you soak their hat, gloves, and lunchbox in it... Who even does that? Kids who are needing something that they aren't getting. That's who. 

Later in the evening, I explained to Christian that hurt people, hurt people. I told him how bullying is often is a result of something that the bully has going on inside instead of a problem with the person on the receiving end of the unkind actions or words. 

You know what my guy said in response to that? 

"I hope he isn't too hurt on the inside, maybe I can think good things for that boy so his insides can get better." 

And just like that, once again, Christian shows me what grace looks like. 

Until next time,

Carmen

breaking my heart.

Sometimes being a parent can be absolutely heartbreaking.

We've created these tiny humans are who perfect, and tiny, and wonderful. I held them as they took their firsts breaths of life as tears ran down my face. I've held them at night, rocking silently away dreaming of how many possibilities are waiting for this little person. I've wiped their tears and calmed their fits. I've held their hands as they venture off to a list of firsts. First day of school, first day of swimming lessons, first day flying solo at daycare...

I get to hear about their days, and their lunches, and their friends.  I get to encourage them to try new things with only a reasonable amount of fear. I listen to their stories and help them with their letters and numbers. I've nurtured these little bodies and little souls with only what I can hope is the best of myself.

I have dreams for them. Dreams of happiness, and curiosity, and joy. Dreams that they'll only encounter struggles that will make them stronger, and wiser. Dreams that they'll grow up some day far in the distance and become genuine friends to the people in their lives, and be passionate men who crave the most out of life. Men who not only chase after their own dreams, but catch them as well.

But the truth is, life does not always look like this. Life can be hard, and unfair, and ridiculously hard some more. The truth is that everyone struggles to find a place in this big old world, and instead of feeling like an exciting adventure, it often feels like a mess of a road trip. The sting of life is real, and the silence of sorrow is deafening. And while I hope that my young men are as lucky as I, and only have fleeting moments of the ache of a life well lived, I must acknowledge that life can be messy and hard. And at the end of the day it simply breaks my heart that my perfect, tiny, child will ever have to know what that is like.

Until next time,
Carmen

report cards, being four, and other stuff.

Wow, I can't believe this month is already halfway over! One of my New Year's resolutions this year is to be a consistent (and consistently awesome) blogger... Let's file that under "I'm working on it".

So Christian is back in the school swing. We just received his report card and I am mighty proud of that young fellow. He's amazing and his kindergarten report card reflects his amazingness. After we sat and looked at it, Yosi promptly went over and hung the report card on the fridge. You could say he's a proud dad.

Nolan is being awesome at being three. But, he turns four NEXT WEEK. Sigh. How does that even happen? My baby is going to be four. Part of me is completely ecstatic, the other part is grief stricken.  They even out to a sort of "wow, where did the time go? thank goodness we don't have to deal with three ever again". Three year olds are not rational people. While they are adorable, hilarious, and over-flowingly full of laughter, you cannot yet reason with these folks.

I'm working on not looking like I just had a baby. Even though I did. I don't know why us women do that to ourselves. I mean, talk about unreasonable. But I'm not being all intense and cranky about it because that's not useful, needed, or fun. I am just doing things I should be doing anyway like eating good, real food, and using my body in active and meaningful ways. By mindfully treating my body well, it will treat me well in return.

Until next time,
Carmen

christmas vacation.

Guys, Christmas vacation is not as fun when you're a parent.

Christian goes back to school tomorrow and my day will be spent tending to my disaster zone house.

Messes aside, it's been pretty fun. It's been nice being lazy in the morning and drinking my coffee while still in my jammies opposed to in the car. It's been fun baking cookies, and eating cookies, and sometimes eating real food too. Not often though. We've also spent countless hours playing with playdo, having uno tournaments, and getting competitive over board games. It has had some definite highlights, and these boys of mine kind of are hilarious.

It's been kind of fun and kind of not. Both kids home mean that at least a part of the day will include bickering, and arguing, and fighting over two of the exact same guys. It doesn't help that I'm on break too. Meaning I have no homework, no projects, no reading assignments, nothing. It's feels gloriously free for the first couple of days and then it gets ridiculously boring.

here is what I've found to do:

organize my basement

go through ALL closets and donate all clothes that aren't worn anymore

finally start on my gallery wall

organize and print out a years worth of photos

read two books (one on the booklist for my spring semester, and one for fun)

cleaned my carpets

Now, most of these things needed done anyway, so it's not at all a bad thing that I've finally found time to get them  done. BUT, it feels pretty weird not to be working on anything school-y. That will all change in a short week when I'll be overwhelmed once again with homework and reading assignments. A girl just can't win. 

Until next time,

Carmen

being merry.

what a joyous holiday we've had. 

hope you have too.

Merry Christmas,

Carmen

enjoying.

What a handsome group of guys, eh?

I mean really.

I took above photo over the weekend on an evening fishing trip. Do I love fishing? Not particularly, but I don't hate it either. Yosi really enjoys it, and the boys are just tickled when they get to go along. All of that combined with the lovely setting, fresh air, and plentiful snacks we bring along, it's a fun way to spend a beautiful afternoon.

I feel as though summer is going quickly. Too quickly almost. But then I hear that little voice in my head taunting me with football, soccer games, school (for me, and for Christian!), the pumpkin patch, weather that I want to eat up with a spoon, crunchy leaves, and cider... That's when I think that time is going at an appropriate rate. 

What else does fall bring? A baby. For Jack and Jill, of course. I'm not yet at that point where I'm ready to be done. I'm just not. I'm not miserably uncomfortable, I'm still sleeping relatively well (thanks again to Jack and Jill for the AMAZING pregnancy pillow!), I'm getting around well, and overall I'm just enjoying this pregnancy. Maybe the enjoyment is easier to find because this is surely my last pregnancy to enjoy?

About that - 

Yosi pulled a prank on me the other day. We were laying in bed when he said, "maybe we should think about having another baby.." Obviously I start laughing. Between my cackles of laughter I snort out "You can't be serious!". He assures me that he really does think we should at least think about it. 

Ummmm. In my head I'm still laughing, but it's swirling quickly into a panic. I'm thinking that he has really been pushing for us to get a dog, which I am adamantly against. Now he wants a baby? I don't want one of those either. Hell, he probably wants a baby and a dog. DO WE EVEN HAVE ANYTHING IN COMMON AT ALL? we had a plan. we had dreams. we just bought a car without third row seating. we can go on trips and not worry about what to do with a dog. a trip for a family of four that we probably won from the radio station. dogs don't even like me. my life is spiraling out of control. 

Then, Yosi starts laughing and I look over and can tell that he was just pulling my leg and he knows that I am about to have a heart attack. Deep freaking breath. 

What about another surrogacy? 

I get this question a lot. Up until recently I just hemmed and hawed over it.. "Oh, we'll see!". That is not my response anymore. My answer is a confident and happy, "Nope, this is it!". Then I get a bunch of people who assume that I've hated the experience, have turned into an emotional wreck, have a terrible/nonexistent relationship with my intended parents, and/or want to make a lifetime movie and keep the baby.

It is so much the opposite of any of the above. 

I have LOVED this experience. I LOVE my intended parents and the relationship we have built. I DO NOT want to keep Bunny, and I feel ecstatic about watching Jack and Jill take their baby home. 

I went into this surrogacy thing for an experience. I wanted to help create a family. I wanted to experience another pregnancy. I wanted to be a part of something so much bigger than myself. I will have done all of that, and in an adventure that certainly could not be matched. I feel like trying to top this experience will only leave me disappointed, and that is not the flavor of surrogacy I want left in my mouth. I will relish all that this experience has to offer, and I will always keep this chapter of my life close to my heart, because it truly has been life changing. That being said, when this chapter comes to an end, I will reread it with shining eyes and a glowing heart, and then I will close it and move onto the next great part of what life holds. 

Until next time,

Carmen