This video was taken about 8 months ago and this is proof that Rio has been in this stage for almost a year now!  I, for one, am ready to have him turn a new leaf, when he's not breaking down he is just the sweetest cuddliest little boy I've ever had. :)

Belisita

 Belize is 5 1/2 year old.  She is blossoming into a little lady.  Belize is relishing in her oldest sister role and lovingly entertains and helps with Mayan.  And she loves to teach Rio new games and read him stories.  She's made a major jump in her reading recently and instead of sounding out 3 or 4 letter words can now handle 1st reader books.  Belize is very tender and sweet and smart as a whip.  I love having her for a daughter.

 Her Abuela MADE this Snow White costume!!  Wow!  It even has a red bow hairband but of course, it was missing at the time of picture taking.

 Belize has excelled in school this year, her teacher is always singing her praises about how she's a model student and a kind soul.  She was so excited for her DK open house and proudly showed her family all the fun things she's been working on.

 Miss Polselli hatched chicks this year in the classroom which was a fun experience for Belize.  Except for one of the them had spraddle leg and couldn't walk (Brannon put a splint on it but it was too late because the chick was already a week old) and eventually died.  SO SAD!!!

 Brannon and Mayan  are exchanging knowing glances after listening to Belize explain Handwriting without Tears.

 Belize loves to put Mayan into whatever room she's in.  It's a little scary to watch but she hasn't dropped her yet- knock on wood.

The gang.  Brighton, Chezie, Rio and Belize in front of Tulita, in the coolest tree known to kindergartners.

Mayan 9 months

Getting Mayan up from a nap is like Christmas morning- her face lights up and she gives you the biggest little grin as if she's just received the best present EVER in the history of Christmas mornings.  That girl- she melts my heart every day.  She just turned 9 months old- a great achievement if there ever was one.  She has existed as much time out in the world as inside my belly, I can't believe pretty soon we will be looking forward to her 1st birthday.  She has been such a joy as a baby that I am reluctant to move on to the next stage.  Her hair has gotten significantly lighter, she broke one upper tooth and has one more coming.  If you touch her nose with your finger she giggles and scrunches up her little nose.  She can wave and say, "Ba ba ba ba" so I guess technically her first word is Bye Bye, although, I swear she says Hi too.  She's enjoying her new found mobility and spends a lot of her day rolling or crawling backwards or getting into sitting position or sitting on her knees in order to see what the kids are doing.  She is still a mama's girl but also enjoys all men in general- weird. I can't remember exactly what her stats were at her 8 month appt but I think she weighed over 19 lbs and she dropped down to the 75% in ht and wt.  Oh and she really likes her binky.  AND she also LOVES spitting, which is unfortunate because my kids like to make that sound as well so if anyone spits you can imagine the melodious chorus that commences.

 

A series of a series of events

A fly on the wall taking notes

Sometimes I just wish that I had been a fly on the wall in our house growing up.  My family had 4 children- me, being the oldest, then Kyle (the philosophizing dreamer), Richelle (all things womanly/little mother) and Sarah (the quiet artist).  I tried hard to think of a nickname for me- drama queen, bossy pants, or boy chaser?  The majority of my memories from my childhood are idyllic- the rope swing, bare feet, the bat cave, the fairy ring, the track, the pantry store, Mary's sugar cookies, late night talks, power outages to name a few.  Let's just forget the birthday curse, the beet explosion, split pea soup, and the time that Dad chased me up the stairs.

Sure, I can remember the house getting messy, Mom's stink eye, Mom crying to Dad about how we didn't listen, Dad threatening to put the TV in the garage (which he did a few times, I'm sure) and staying in my room for 6 hours because Mom said I couldn't come out until it was clean ( instead, I read books and took naps til the last 30 minutes before I wanted to go somewhere with my friends).  But mostly, I remember a loving home with good parents who taught us how to make moral choices, be good friends and love the Lord.

Before I had kids, I didn't realize how deeply selfish I was.  And let me tell you, it is HARD to break that habit.  Not so much the taking care of children, that comes more naturally.  Of course, I change a stinky diaper before pouring my own cereal, I make sure everyone's shoes are on and bags are packed before putting on my own shoes.  And yes, sometimes I realize that at 8am I needed to go pee and here it is 2:00pm and I haven't gone yet.  Those basic need meeting things come easily to me, but do you know what is hard?

Mastering myself.  Setting aside all my heightening emotions in order to provide the example I so longingly desire for my children- to create a loving environment in which to teach my children great and powerful principles.

The first selfish problem: It is a daily struggle to sacrifice sleep.

For me it goes something like this:

530AM- Mayan wakes up and nurses, she then wonderfully falls back to sleep.
545AM- Brannon leaves for work.
600AM- Belize wakes up and goes to the bathroom, then she "tries" to go back to sleep (which has never ACTUALLY happened) but she ends up making so much noise (aka lip smacking, tapping on the wall, singing) that she wakes up Rio.
615AM- Belize and Rio come into my room.  Now on GOOD days, I can put Rio back to sleep in his bed, however that means that I have to keep Belize in my bed, which means that I am up for good and I just lie there half hoping by some miracle that she'll fall asleep, half listening to her obnoxious sounds, wanting to hit her with my pillow (which I sometimes do), until 645 when I usually give up and we all go eat breakfast.

I am just realizing this post will be a mile long if I continue recording everything we do but you get the point.  Mornings never start off well and know this about me:  I AM NOT a morning person.  My mother and anyone who's ever been with me in the morning can attest.  Caffeine was probably invented specifically for people like me although it was in vain cause Hey! I'm Mormon, remember?

The second selfish problem: It is also daily struggle to sacrifice frustration.  In other words, to practice patience.  Remember when your mother told you to think before you spoke or maybe "What were you thinking? (I think Dad said this more than Mom).  I thought that by the time I was a mother, I would have mastered that principle, but no, it only becomes more difficult as three little ones are trying my patience at every turn.  Not to say that we don't have our sweet moments and we do, a lot. In fact these are the moments that feel the very biggest to me.  But the little frustrations, well, they build up and I try sooooo hard to be good.  I run the word PATIENCE over and over again in my head, I try to take deep breaths and let it wash over me, overtake me with its goodness.  And more than not I AM good- I am a good mother.  I did not yell.  I was calm.  I AM THE MASTER OF MY DOMAIN!!

But sometimes, I get blindsided by a moment, a moment without warning.  I hit my breaking point, something stupid happens and I reach the end of my rope.  I explode.  I "strongly dislike" that mother.  The one whose patience was lost, who didn't have the chance to think before she spoke.  I feel helpless to succumb.  I do not even feel like me.

The other night Brannon and I were discussing caged chicken vs. free range chicken vs. open range chickens at the dinner table- yes we are that cool- haha.  We weren't "DISCUSSING" just sharing what we knew in that arena- and Belize says, "Now guys, listen to me.  If you keep talking, its just gonna get worse."  We tried to explain to her that we were not having an argument, in fact we weren't even disagreeing but again she repeated "If you keeping taaaaalking, its just going to get woooooorrrrser!"  It was funny and we had a good laugh.  Later, while Brannon and I were talking about it during our bedtime chatting ritual, I realized that even though Brannon and I haven't had a fight in probably a year in front of the kids (or behind for that matter), Belize REMEMBERED the awful feeling of her parents having a fight.  That girl doesn't forget anything, she's like a sponge.  And I feel like I have scarred her for life, I feel like I will inevitably scar them all.

These out of control moments, the ones where I really blow it, I feel like will be permanently burned into their little brains.  The day when my teenage kids feels animosity (remember, "hate" is a bad word) towards me, those memories are going to surface and maybe they won't remember that I tried reeeeally hard.  That I'm still learning how to be a mother to them and I am imperfect.

It's so heavy that at times, I feel like I am trapped under a 10,000 lb weight.  Can goodness ever outweigh the bad?

I am learning that the only way to soften the blow after I lose it, is with hugs and asking of forgiveness.  Rio and Belize always do forgive me, sweetly and instantly but someday I hope that they will truly understand what forgiveness is- that they will be able to forgive their mother, all those that hurt them and most importantly - themselves.  I guess that is the real lesson- forgiving yourself, themselves, .  .  . myself.

So Mom, how DID you do it?