Happy 4th Birthday Elliott Michael Rounce!

Happy birthday.....over a month late.  My sweet first born turned 4 on April 10th.  He was super excited about his birthday as we celebrated it going to the Northwest Train Museum and riding their train!  My social butterfly thought it was the best thing ever as he talked to the conductor and all the other kids riding along.  I don't think I saw him but once or twice the whole ride.  Knowing that he was happy and in his element soothed this mama's heart.  I worry about my son and his sensitive nature, but that is for another post ;)

Now what can I say about my Elliott?  Hmmm...I could fill books and books and never quite get it all down.    He was the beautiful child who made me a mother.  He was a long labor and painful entry due to his deciding to have his hand up by his face....which made my recovery and millions (just a bit of an exaggeration) of stitches incredibly memorable.   It was quite an early introduction to his dynamic personality, as he does love to make an impressive entrance even now. 

My boy had a hard first 6 months of his life.  He had severe reflux and had such a hard time putting any weight on.  We spent a lot of time at the doctors trying to help him keep any food down.  He was on 2 medications for the first year of his life and then at 6 months the doctors at Children's finally prescribed him medical grade formula and our sweet son finally had relief!  I cannot tell you how much this formula helped our little man.  Cameron and I were so thankful that he was finally not in pain!  We could walk into his room without smelling the stomach acid as soon as we crossed the threshold.  We could finally do something that actually helped him!

As soon as his reflux was figured out we began to see our boy and his personality grow and shine.  He was happy and bubbly.  Funny and cuddly!  And temperamental and stubborn and seriously opinionated.   It cannot be said that we have easy going children.  It would be a straight up lie ;) 
However, we loved watching him change into a curious toddler.

Since then he  has become such a delight to us.  He is an avid learner!  I've never seen anything like it.  He devours books and begs me to read to him all day long.  Since he was 2 1/2 he has known all his ABC's and their sounds and we are currently working on reading.  He has read several books to me so far ;)  He loves figuring out how everything works.  Loves watching Mighty Machines and any kids show that is educational and describes something he loves in detail.  It is rather humbling when your son teaches you things you didn't even know!  However, I wouldn't have it any other way, I am so proud of his eagerness to gain knowledge.

 Always has to have his tools nearby.

Elliott is social.  Something I am having to learn how to deal with as that is not my natural inclination.  He is truly a kind little boy.  He wants to be everybody's friend and will literally walk up to anybody and talk to them.  Doesn't matter how old or young, male or female...he is right there introducing himself and asking question after question.  I love this about him, I love that he is not scared or wary of people yet.  Though, I have to admit  it also scares the crap out of me...which is why I never let him out of my sight when we are out in public.  Haha.

 Loves his smoothies...after having the stomach flu..hence the pile of towels ;)

The last thing I want to tell the world about my big boy is how loving and affectionate he is.  I cannot tell you how many times a day he tells everyone in our family that he loves them.  Or how he says thank you to me after I make lunch or dinner.   And don't even get me started on how his hugs are so freely given that sometimes we have to remind him that not everyone is as...huggy as him. ;)  It hardly seems fair to mention that he tells me often that I am the best mom ever, or that he is happy that I get to be his mommy.  Seriously folks!  I am not even exaggerating a little bit.  Oh....and I'll only briefly touch on his protectiveness about his sister. When we go to the doctors he gets agitated when they start touching her and he keeps asking them, "What are you doing to Missy?"  He is such a special little boy and I'm not sure what I did to deserve him.

 Elliott and his Missy when she was still in the NICU

I know deep in my heart that he is going to do amazing things in this world.  He is strong, stubborn, and above all, good.  It is my honor and pleasure to be his mother.  I could not ask for anything better than to have the privilege of watching him become the great man he is destined to be.  

Rocking

I have a couple posts....okay...a lot of posts to catch up on.  Elliott's 4th birthday, Easter, adventure days, Mother's day...all that good stuff.  However, that is not what I want to write about tonight.  Tonight I want to talk about my battle with slowing down and living.

I do not know if it has been said before on my blog, but Cameron and I are fairly strict parents.  As soon as it is reasonably logical, we get our kids on a schedule starting when they are babies.  We are teaching them to say ma'am and sir.  We do not tolerate them talking back or speaking in disrespectful tones to us or anyone.  They are disciplined pretty consistently and we rarely back down.  Now, this is not to say they are perfectly behaved children. Hehe...actually it sometimes means quite the opposite.  Elliott still throws fits sometimes and is going through a talking back phase, but the point is that we correct him every time and make sure that he knows that he is responsible for his behavior.  Our home is one where good and bad choices are discussed on a daily basis. 

Now that I've finished that little diatribe, I can focus in on what I wanted to actually say.  Bedtime at our house is routine as well.  We go up, gather in Annabelle's room and read scriptures and say our prayers.  Then we sing songs together and read a story to little miss.  She is put to bed and then we go and brush Elliott's teeth and then he gets a bit of one on one time with a story and cuddles before I say goodnight and leave.  We try to be really consistent in this so that it does not become chaos.

I'm going to probably get a lot of flak for saying this, but here it is.  Cameron and I let our children cry after a certain age when we know that nothing else is wrong with them at bedtime.  We do not go in and pick them up every time they cry or whine.  They don't sleep with us and never have.  I know this doesn't work for other parents and I have no judgements towards them, but in our family it works very well.

Anyway, (wow...that was a freakishly long and boring introduction...do forgive me) tonight when I laid Annabelle down and walked out of her room she started to cry.  I looked back at her and smiled and said, "goodnight babygirl" and left again.  As I was brushing Elliott's teeth I continued to hear her cry and for whatever reason, tonight I walked back into that room and saw her distraught little face and picked her right up.  I wrapped her in her blankie, held her close to me and sat in the glider.  She didn't move or try to get up (which is what she does 99% of the time), so I knew her tears this time were for something more than not wanting to go to bed. 

Rocking her slowly, I looked down into her blue blue eyes and I couldn't help but softly brush her baby cheeks.  However, then my mind went into overdrive and I thought about the fact that I still needed to workout, go down and do dishes, do more laundry, get Elliott to bed and somehow fit in a shower as well.

I stifled the urge to quickly put her back down and get to work because she is now 18 months old and I honestly don't know how that happened.  Truly, it leaves me speechless every time I think about it.  Plus, then Elliott walked back in and asked to hold her and rock her.  So we all sat in the glider and he wrapped his little boy arms around her and told her a story about a little boy and his trains to, "help her feel better mommy."  As I looked at these two beautiful human beings that just happen to be mine, I prayed that I would be able to feel this peace and calm more often.  I want to stop worrying about the endless chores around the house just a little bit, and focus more on being "present" as a mother.  The way I felt when I slowed down even a fraction of a minute tells me that it will be well worth the effort.

Beautiful Perspective

It came to my attention through a beautiful and loving letter from my mother in law that my last post was a bit...disconcerting to others. She is an amazing woman (my mil) and she wrote me a heart wrenching note that spoke to how much I have forgotten myself as a woman and how often I forget that people truly care about me. Her words and love opened my eyes and helped me to step back and gain some beautiful perspective.




In reading the letter, I saw myself in a different light. Or rather, I saw myself for the first time in over a year. I caught a glimpse of a strong and confident woman and then I could see the path that led me to the lost and lonely woman I am today.




Clear as mud eh? No worries, I'll explain. In high school and college I was for the most part confident and action oriented. I loved trying new things and stretching myself to the limits. I thrived on signing up for zero hour classes in high school because I wanted to take a harder class than those offered during the regular school hours. That was exciting to me and crazy cakes to my dear husband. Hehe. Learning was and still is really fun for me. No, not kidding. I don't particularly appreciate the homework that comes with classes, but knowledge is my drug of choice. College was heaven for the most part, though I wish now that I had taken more time to explore different classes just for the heck of it. I was so focused on my major that I didn't give myself much leeway in scheduling. Anyway, my point is that I knew who I was and was happy, strong, and well-balanced.


Me in college at Cameron's college graduation party. I still had two years left...oh and look at that pre-baby body!

Then came motherhood. Oh, sweet motherhood. More specifically Annabelle. I am well aware that I have not done the review of the year after Annabelle's birth, but I'll give a few highlights to get us through this post.

When I had to go on hospital bed rest with Annabelle's pregnancy, I have never been so terrified in all of my life. I knew being a parent was going to be hard, but never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that it would be this horrendous. I never thought I would seriously worry about the survival of one my children barely before they got a chance to live. I also did not picture it involving me being away from my two year old son for 7 weeks. Good God, I can't even type these words without my breath catching, my stomach clenching, and my heart breaking again and again. At the time it seemed truly impossible that I could survive this. I remember not being able to Skype with my son one morning because he had learned new words and I was curling up in a fetal position on the hospital bed sobbing because I was missing it all and he didn't understand why Mommy wouldn't come home. I had to be there to keep Annabelle safe, but in doing that I was traumatizing my other child. How do you rationalize this?

It got worse when she was born 2 months early (at least it was better than the 4 months they thought she would be) and couldn't breathe at birth. That image and memory is a Pandora's box of emotions that I won't open today, but suffice it to say that it is forever etched in my brain and heart. She ended up staying in the NICU for 5 1/2 weeks, going in and out of isolation. Because of remodeling we couldn't stay at night with her for the most part. So, I went to the hospital everyday with my son and stayed for as long as I could before Elliott got hysterical at being at the hospital again. Crazy enough the floor I was on for bed rest is the same floor as the NICU. So every time I went through those locked doors to the NICU and left my son out in the waiting room with my mom he would scream so loud I could hear his sobs all the way down the hall. He was so afraid that I would stay there and leave him again. I am sobbing right now typing this. It aches and I'm not sure that my heart will ever be completely healed.

During this time I don't know how I functioned, but I did. However, when she was brought home I was terrified that something would happen to her. I felt that if I left her that I would come back and she wouldn't be alive.

 Honesty is crushingly painful.

 On top of that, I had so much guilt over being away from Elliott that I couldn't bear to leave him either. I had to keep them close, I had to! So I didn't really go out or do anything for myself. And this cycle just kept going and going until even now when she is healthy and sassy as can be, and Elliott is strong and confident of my love, I am stuck in this rut of not knowing where the balance of my motherhood and womanhood should be. Thus, my last post.

Now that I see this, I have to change it. I will always be a mother now, for eternity I will claim that revered title honorably and gratefully. However, I can be a woman too. I can be the Lindsey who loves to learn and not just the cleaning lady in our home :) I will be the Lindsey who delights in nature and finds solace in soft warm sand and the light peeking through the trees. If I do nothing, my soul will starve and my ability to be the best mother to my children (which is all I truly want) will erode until I am no good to them. It will be a cold day in that one place before I let that happen to my family.

So, here I am today. Putting this out there in the world so that there is some measure of accountability in my head. I will make time to feed my womanhood. I will perhaps learn Latin like I've dreamed of. Or maybe take that martial arts course I yearn for. Or even better yet, volunteer with foster children because someday some of them will become part of our family. I will have a girls night and laugh when we end up talking about poop and sleepless nights. Hike, ride my bike, rock out to Matchbox Twenty, and live right now.

Striving, searching...yearning

Do you ever feel sad? And not just any kind of sad, but a sad you can't find a reason for. A sad that defies logic. A sad that has you crying over your laptop while reading a lovely blog about a wonderful woman and her incredible husband and kids?

It is entirely possible that I am crazy. Or exhausted. Or lost.

My money is on lost. It's a good bet and I don't have a lot of money, so it works out.

I am not sure who or where Lindsey is anymore. The girl I think back on, even to a couple years ago is absent from this life.

I miss her. I miss me. I miss dates and being good at something. I miss feeling beautiful....well, more like pretty.

I miss not being afraid of failing at everything.

I miss having a life without anxiety and PTSD.

I miss being genuinely happy almost all of the time without reason.

Where is she? And more importantly, when exactly did I lose her? I can't pinpoint a time or place, but slowly she disappeared. And in her place is this woman who hates waking up in the morning, who cleans begrudgingly, who yearns desperately for something that is just hers! I don't think that I like this version of me.

But I am so afraid of not being good enough. I am crippled by my lack of confidence in who or what I could be, or even more, what I should be. All I can seem to think of is how I am going to fail.

This is not Lindsey. Not who I remember being.

Where is she?

Monday Monday....

Today is a wonderful day. Do you know why it is wonderful dear world?? It is Monday!! Monday is usually the dreaded first day back at work for most of society. But since Cameron changed jobs and his schedule got all crazy like, Monday has been our Saturday. However, it is even BETTER than a regular 'ole Saturday because everybody else is at work and we get all the cool stuff to ourselves!

Our family has unintentionally made it into a day of adventures and jolly good fun. Last Monday we trekked up the mountain and found a lovely closed highway full of beautiful snow. Elliott decided that we should do that everyday and I would have to agree with him. Annabelle wasn't fond of the cold, though to be fair to her, we didn't have snow pants for her like we did for big brother. Cameron is excited to take Elliott up to the slopes to teach him to ski. He started learning when he was 5 and we would love to continue that tradition. It was the loveliest of days for our sweet little family.

This Monday we lounged at home in the morning and then headed out for a drive (one of my favorite things to do) and ended up at IKEA(well I don't mind going here either). We had fun walking through the store and then went to have dinner at Five Guys...ummm yum! As we drove home we were jamming to some music and Cameron was giving me some pointers on conducting music. And that is something I desperately need. Elliott thought it looked fun and joined in, pretty sure he was better than me at almost 4 years old. Perhaps RS would want him instead ;)

Anyways...I'm a little tired today and for this reason I am not sure how coherent this post is, so I'll end it here. Except for saying that Mondays get me through the rest of the week and I am grateful for them.

Sike!

Made you look! I did not ditch blogging again. I solemnly swear that I am here to stay. Just had a crazy, grumpy week or so and I wanted to bring something else to this journal of sorts than venting and whining.

Today I have been thinking of how different children are from each other. My two children are alike in some ways, mostly their intense stubbornness, but for the most part, they are completely different! It just amazes me how each child comes to us already totally unique from any other person in the world. A lot of people believe that children are born as blank slates and are just clay to be molded by their parents. I cannot disagree more with that belief. Oh, don't get me wrong, I do believe parents have a strong and lasting impression on their children, but I do not believe we "create" their inherent personalities. I believe each person has a soul and that soul is who they are. Before, now, and forever. And I love getting to be a part of my children's journey in finding that.


She hated it from the moment we set her in it and wanted nothing to do with it unless daddy was holding her and going super slow.



This one has loved swinging from the very beginning and he keeps hollering, "Faster, higher Mom!"

Random thoughts in bullet point....

*For the last couple of days or maybe even a week I have been incredibly short-tempered and it is driving me crazy! This is not me, but I don't know what to do about it.

*My son just walked down the hallway to my room and he is suppose to be in bed right now. I just want to cry because I am so tired of this new routine we have since his dad started working nights.

*Ugh. I just growled at him. It is possible I will be paying for his therapy later in life.



*I truly love being a mom, when I was younger I wanted 8 kids. Now, I honestly have no idea how people who do have 8 or even 6...or 5 do it.

*I wish I did a lot of things better.

*My tailbone still hurts after falling down the stairs a couple weeks ago...how long will this last?

*I want to be pregnant again.



*I got all crazy like and took my two kids to the library at 5 in the evening. Checked out 30 items. Only 10 of those were for the children....

*My son loves people. Anybody and everybody. He waves and says hi to absolutely every person we pass. This sweet innocence of his makes me want to hug him forever and ever.

*I wish I didn't feel that homeschooling was the right choice for us. LOL.



*Lately I have missed college. I miss that excitement I had when picking classes each quarter. There is so much I want to learn about.

*I would like to learn archery, spying, and writing and reading code.

*Mrs. Pollifax is amazing, I want to be like her when I'm an old lady.

*Visiting teaching is one of my favorite things to do each month, I love all the ladies I get to hang with.

*Every day I strive to be a less selfish person, but it seems to be a slow process.



*I am eager to adopt someday.

*Sunshine in Washington is one of the most beautiful things.

*Looking forward to the smell of fresh cut grass this summer.

*Oh and camping!! Camping, that sounds so lovely right now.



*Despite my venting tonight, I love my life and family and only wish I was better at my job as wife and mother :)

Note: All these pictures are from the past year. Trying to catch up in posting them.

Running away

As I child, I can't remember ever wanting to run away. Home always seemed better to me; it seems as if I was a homebody even then. However, today....ohhh today I want to run away and cry cry cry. Cry big fat tears. Big, fat, messy, and gross tears that make me feel even more ugly and fat than I already do. How is that for honesty? Brutal.

I don't even know what it is about today that has me down and out. Well, I sort of do. It is the yelling I did today. The temper tantrums that were thrown and the way it makes me feel like a horrible mom. And then I feel like a horrible person and a horrible everything! Yes, this post is so eloquent isn't it? Am I cut out for being a mother?!? I apologized to Elliott three times today for yelling at him. This last time was right before bed and we were cleaning up his bedroom. He was being a almost 4 year old boy and tossing his legos into the container. One of them hit me in the head and it was the tipping point. I lost it. I yelled and cried. Then I ordered him onto his bed and finished cleaning by myself while he was crying holding his teddy. Yes, it was as bad as it sounds. I kept muttering to myself and telling him no every time he asked for a toy in his bed. I was just getting more and more upset and exhausted. You know what I mean?? Where you just feel like you can't clean up one more thing, can't do one more dish, one more load of laundry, one more anything.

After his room was clean, I climbed into his bed and held him and said, "I'm so sorry Elliott, I'm so sorry for yelling." He immediately stopped crying and relaxed into me. Then I felt even worse. This beautiful boy has complete trust in me and sometimes I shudder at how much I feel like I'm failing him and his sister. I asked him if we could have a prayer to help us both feel better and he said okay. I prayed and started crying and said I was so sorry for yelling and scaring Elliott and in the middle of the prayer, happy as can be, he said, "It's okay Mom."

I don't understand what I did to deserve these children. And then I don't understand why some days all I want to do is run away from them. What is wrong with me?!? I love Elliott and Annabelle with my whole being....sometimes I feel it so much it physically hurts. I lay awake at night and think of all the things I could be doing better and worry about them every second of the day. Why can't I be as good as I want to be? Or as good as I thought I would be as a mother? Right now, I would love to talk to Her. Our Heavenly Mother. I'm sad and lonely and completely in love with my children.

Not giving up yet!

I swear I am not quitting blogging again. Just been a hectic week with a sore and bruised tailbone :) I will post our past year highlights soon :)

Confessions

I have literally written this post hundreds of times in my head, desperately trying to get it right. Thinking, that somehow, I would be able to convey the fear and hopelessness with magic words that would come to me. Guess what, I was wrong. Completely wrong. I have no idea how to put these particular thoughts down. I don't know how to tell everyone that I just could not write. I sat in that hospital bed day in and day out and pulled up the blog countless times prepared to share with the world our journey. My fingers refused, my mind shut down and I gave up.

In middle school, high school, and into college I always kept a journal. I have a box of said journals and reading them now is such a humbling and sometimes humiliating experience :) Writing was always therapeutic for me. I could write the absolute truth down and feel validated. I could write those feelings and thoughts that I felt were "too" much, "too" real, "too" everything and no one would look at me like I was crazy. So, I kept writing and writing. For years, this worked well. However, I have to admit that once my first child came, the writing lessened a considerable amount. No surprise there, I'm sure :) But, I valiantly tried to keep up, specifically on this blog. And if you have read this blog before, you will understand how I failed most of the time. Hehe.

Let us speed up a bit to my water breaking at 23 weeks and me ending up on hospital bed rest at Evergreen. Countless people and tons of literature told me that it would be helpful to write everyday during this ordeal, to put my feelings and worries on paper,to record everything that happened. Write down how much she weighs each ultrasound, how much fluid you have in your amniotic sac, how each monitoring of her heart went. Put it down Lindsey, they said. Get it off your chest and it will help you feel better! Logically, this made sense. I can see that. Honestly, I could even see it then. So, I put on my big girl panties and gave it a whirl. After all, writing had been a source of solace to me long before this, so it would make sense that it would provide such comfort again. Again...wrong. A big fat WRONG.

I think I wrote about 2 blog posts while in the hospital. I also had a pen and paper journal to record those monumental happenings....and that one has one page written on. And since then...a year and a couple of months later...I haven't been able to write anything. Not emails, at least not anything substantial. Not letters, not cards, and clearly not blog posts.

It has taken me a long time...and a lot of therapy to come to this conclusion. I didn't feel safe. In the middle of a storm, writing should have been a safe harbor, but instead it was like jagged rocks that ripped up my boat. Every time I wrote something down it became more real. It was already too real for me, writing only helped it become permanently etched in writing for all of history. Writing it down meant that I couldn't change it, couldn't do anything about my situation. Ugh. I know that I already couldn't change it, but writing confirmed it in my head. I know it doesn't make any sense, but my heart said otherwise. I was only trying to survive each day thinking my baby girl was going to die and being separated from my son. Honestly, I don't think I could have handled it and so I didn't. I stopped writing and just got through each day. Sadly, I have sort of being doing that since then. So, I am sorry. I am sorry for you, for me, for my children. I'm sure it would have been nice to have that experience down for posterity, but perhaps now that I have slowly started writing again...it can come out.

Up next, a catch up of the last year. It is sure to be scintillating :)

Minus a cute Annabelle who was off to the side gnawing on my pearl necklace ;) She wasn't impressed with the photo session.