He’s Growing Up | A Day in Mollywood

My Brigham is 2-years-old

May 2, 2012 By Molly

You were born in the wee hours of the morning on May 2nd. It was 2:22 a.m. to be exact. It felt as if I had waited forever for you to arrive. Labor began at 7 a.m. the day before. I writhed in pain during the last hours of labor. You, stuck in the wrong position, kept butting your head against my tailbone. I remember breathlessly repeating to anyone who would listen . . . I just want him out. I just want him here. Please God let it end.

I remember pushing so hard for you. Pushing until I felt like my head would explode. I closed my eyes tight on the last push. And then I heard someone say, “Open your eyes, Molly!”

When I did there you were. My beautiful baby boy. I don’t know why but I immediately exclaimed, “There’s my little stinker!”

You were seconds old and I already knew you. I knew your personality. You can definitely be a little stinker sometimes. But we love that about you.

Your first year was not easy. You were sick a lot and had ear tube surgery at only six months due to severe double ear infections. You wheezed and coughed and sneezed for most of your first year. I remember holding you in my arms when you were teeny tiny. I would gently rock you back and forth while you cried uncontrollably. I would lean into you and say, “Mama’s gonna win this battle. Mama always wins.” I knew you needed sleep and I did anything and everything I could to make it happen.

I recall that I once went outside into the black of the night and allowed the singing of crickets to lull you to sleep. It was my idea. And it worked.

But on your first birthday (and consequently the day that we moved to our new house) it was like someone flipped a switch. You slept through the night for the first time ever. You woke up with a huge smile on your face every morning. You no longer wheezed and coughed and sneezed. It was a new year and a new you!

Your personality started to shine. You are so curious. So playful. So spirited. So silly. I knew you would be strong-willed and stubborn at times. That’s how you were born, after all.

But oh, Brigham, how you make us laugh. You do everything your brother does. I know you’re not supposed to be able to do these things yet but you do them anyway. Because that’s who you are. You refuse to be left behind.

At two-years-old you can jump up and down, lunge off of couches and do somersaults. You walk up and down stairs with no support. Pedal a bike with no problem. You seem much older than you are. You can’t stand to feel left out and are a very determined little guy.

You try to repeat everything we say. You just recently started sounding out the alphabet. I feel so much joy when I hear you talk.

When I say, “I love you,” you reply, “too, mama.” My heart soars.

You love anything with wheels and you call police cars and fire trucks “woo-woo” trucks because of the sounds they make when they go by.

You adore reading. Even when I’ve read you five stories you still say, “more books, mama.”

Your newest smile is a crooked one, with teeth showing and cute squinted eyes. It’s your special smile and I love it.

At night, after I lay you in your crib, I lean down and put my arm through the crib slat. I stroke the hair that hangs on your forehead and watch your eyes get heavy. I tell you how special you are and how proud of you I am for all you are learning and doing.

This year with you and your brother has been amazing. I can’t imagine how much more fun we’ll have in the months and years to come.

I thank God every day that I’m the one that gets to wake up with you in my house and in my heart.

Happy second birthday! All the love in the world, my silly little Brigham.

Filed Under: Birth, Birthdays, Brigham, Brigham: Month-by-Month, he's growing up 12 Comments

It’s official. I’m a soccer mom.

April 3, 2012 By Molly

Landon had his first soccer class/game last night so I guess that officially makes me a soccer mom. He did awesome and I couldn’t be more proud.

Filed Under: he's growing up, Landon, Milestones, Mommy Moments 7 Comments

Drive-by Blogging

March 23, 2012 By Molly

1. Brigham picked out his shirt for the first time yesterday. I had already put a shirt on him but he went into his closet and said, “choo choo shirt.” So I had to oblige. I took the shirt off and put the new one on him. Oh boy, choosing clothes for himself is a big step.

2. Believe it or not, I pulled out the 2T size undies last night in preparation for potty-training Brigham. They are so tiny and cute! We’re not quite ready yet but I don’t think we’re far off either. He already runs to the potty and says he has to go pee. But when we sit him down he doesn’t go. Brigham is also moving onto size 6 diapers. He is so big now! If he outgrows size 6 I think the only option left is pull-ups!

3. I plan on hitting up some garage sales this spring/summer. Both to find clothes for the boys and to find home decor that I can refinish. I know some people might think garage sales are gross (and some of them are). But there are treasures to be found and it’s the cheapest option I’ve ever found for clothes. Can’t beat 50 cents!

4. We already bought Brigham’s “big boy” bedding. We went ahead and decided to do dinosaurs. He loves dinosaurs and the bedding we found was 70% off at Kohls. We only paid like $29 for the whole set! I will be painting his room a very light blue probably this summer. He’s not ready for a toddler bed yet. But I can’t wait to decorate his new room!

5. I’ve started Jillian Michaels 30-day shred. I started it once and only got to day 7. Technically, I’m still skinny. But I’ve noticed my pants are getting tighter and my tummy is getting bigger. I also have no energy. I really hate Jillian for making me work so hard but I can see where it would change your body in 30 days. I hope I can stick with it and see my abs reappear before summer!

6. My sister is having her second baby in less than two weeks. So far my parents have four grandsons. But this will be the first girl! You should see her nursery. When I walked in I almost cried. It is beautiful and perfect. My new niece is going to be so loved and adored. As the only girl, she is like the gem of the family and will be spoiled beyond measure, I’m sure. I can’t wait for her arrival!

Filed Under: Brigham, Family, he's growing up, Mommy Moments 17 Comments

while he’s still a baby

March 22, 2012 By Molly

I’ve been thinking about Brigham a lot lately. About how he is edging toward two-years-old and his baby years are passing us by.

It makes me sad. I’ve been reminiscent of his birth. About how I held him, pink and screaming, in my arms for the very first time. About touching his wrinkled baby skin and listening to him suckle at the breast. It’s so strange to think that it was almost two years ago that these things happened. How have two years passed already?

It’s true what they say about not blinking. He looks like such a big boy now. Full head of wispy blonde hair. Weighing in at over thirty pounds and hard for me to lift and carry.

And the thing that stings the most? He would rather not be rocked to sleep anymore. I always rocked him and sang songs to him. But instead he points to his crib and says, “night-night.” Sadly, I rise from the rocking chair and place him in his crib. Then I sit down next to him, reach my hand through the crib slats and rub his sweaty forehead. Until his eyes grow heavy and all that stands between dreamy sleep is a mama that can’t let go.

Being a mom will always mean saying goodbye to one stage and moving onto another. Soon, I will no longer be a mom to a baby. I’ll be a mom to two big boys. Who both know how to communicate. Who both know how to sleep in a regular bed. Who both know how to use the potty.

This concept is a new world that I’m entering.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t take everything that is still innocent. Everything that is still baby. And place it in my heart forever. I want to remember. I hope God won’t ever let me forget.

Long and plump feet. Leftover baby fat. A tiny hand to hold tight in mine.

I will blink and his hand will be bigger than mine. Someday it will hold a special woman’s hand that doesn’t belong to me.

But I’ve got to try to live this moment. I’ve got to try to love this moment.

Love my baby while he’s still a baby.

linking up with Pour Your Heart Out.

Filed Under: Brigham, he's growing up, Pour Your Heart Out 11 Comments

do you know?

December 13, 2011 By Molly

I walk aimlessly through the toy aisles of Target. Eyes popped, on the look out for something for Brigham. Landon makes shopping easier. At least he can tell us what he’s interested in. But Brigham. Brigham makes me question why we do this at all.

I’ve been having a hard time validating the money we spend on Christmas gifts. The truth is, I always have. I promise I’m not judging anyone. Every family does what is right for them. But for me, it is starting to feel wrong.

Maybe it’s because we are on a newly begun quest to live debt-free. Or maybe it’s because I know no matter how many gifts we buy for them or for us it won’t fill us up.

I long to be filled up. To look at the Christmas tree, no boxes underneath, and feel whole without it all. I pray that someday our children understand that the greatest gift we’ve been given is Christ’s love and acceptance.

We’re new in this journey. The journey to find God and Jesus and walk hand-in-hand with them throughout our lives. We didn’t start going to church until recently and I worried that I was too late. That Landon was already three and too much time had passed. I just needed to accept that my kids missed their opportunity to become believers. That I messed up again in the biggest way.

Even so, I unpacked the new nativity scene and displayed it on our dining room buffet. We’ve never had one. Just santas and elves and reindeer. They are all okay too. But I wanted Him there. An excited half-my-size son stood next to me patiently watching as I carefully set each figure in their place.

I looked down, his eyes twinkling as the white lights from the Christmas tree bounced off of his baby blues.

I pointed to the figure in the manger and asked, “Do you know who that is, Landon?”

He gazed at the ceramic baby and quickly piped, “That’s Jesus, mama!”

Four Sunday school classes and he already knew.

And then I remembered, it’s never too late to feel whole.

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Filed Under: he's growing up, Holidays, just write, Landon 15 Comments

no matter what

November 8, 2011 By Molly

It doesn’t matter how many times he wipes snot on my sleeve.

It doesn’t matter if he shrieks in my ear when we’re having what I thought was a quiet moment together.

It doesn’t matter if he decides that today he’s daddy’s little boy instead of mama’s little baby.

It doesn’t matter when he screams and vomits at 2:30 a.m.

It doesn’t matter how many times he chews on the remote control and I can’t get it back to the right channel because he’s pressed some unknown combination of buttons with his teeth.

It doesn’t matter if he pulls all the dishes out of the kitchen cabinet and performs for me.

It doesn’t matter when he stands up and pees in the tub and laughs hysterically about it.

It doesn’t matter how much older he gets each month.

Because whatever he does

I love him

no matter what.

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Filed Under: Brigham, he's growing up, just write, Mommy Moments 11 Comments

he’s just shy

October 18, 2011 By Molly

I walked into Landon’s preschool room to pick him up for the day. I was a bit early so the kids were still playing outside. There are windows in the back where you can watch them from the inside. I decided to wait a few minutes and observe Landon.

My eyes scanned the playground, all the kids scattered about in little groups. My eyes stopped at one group of preschoolers playing on the wooden jungle gym. Nope, he’s not with that group. Another group had formed near the monkey bars. Nope, he’s not with that group either.

My heart started to beat fast as the panic began to rise. Where is he?

I stretched my neck, my face almost against the glass. Then I saw him. At the swing set in the far corner. There was no one else around. No kids. No teachers. He was playing by himself. All alone.

As the giddy laughter of the other children echoed in the background I watched my son.

He was stretched over the swing with his stomach on the seat and arms out in front of him. His feet were pushing off the dirt behind him, making the swing twirl side-to-side. Sometimes he would lift his head and look at the sky. I think he was singing a song.

The sadness hit me with such force. I felt so sorry for him.

I had a million questions swirling in my head.

Did he choose to play alone? Or did the other kids choose not to play with him?

Does he feel left out? Or is he contented to be by himself?

Is this how it is for him all day while I’m at work? Or is it just during outside play?

In order to calm my fears I decided to approach his teachers about it. I asked the general question of how is he doing?

They said he is shy and it takes him a while to warm up to new situations. I told them that he is not shy with people he knows. He talks about playing with his cousin Harrison all the time! They said he doesn’t talk much and I told them that he talks all the time at home. In fact, we have trouble getting him to be quiet. She said that’s not how he is there.

Granted this is a new preschool. He has only been there for a month and a half and he has had a lot of changes in his little life what with a new house, new neighborhood and two daycare switches. He also only attends two days a week whereas most of the other children see each other every day.

I asked the teachers if he ever plays with the other children. She said that he would much rather interact with the adults. But yes, he does play with other children sometimes.

A few weekends ago when we took him to a new event, we had to go into the children’s area three times before he would actually get up on the jungle gym. He refused to get out of the stroller to do anything that day. It frustrated us that he wouldn’t even try. He seems frightened of any new situation and will beg to be carried, bury his head in our shoulders or latch onto my leg as if the alternative is falling off of a cliff. We always explain softly to others, he’s just shy.

When I start to worry that there is something I am doing to cause this behavior, I look to Brigham who is very adaptable to any situation. He never cries when we drop him off at daycare and he can clearly stand up for himself already. The two of them have the same parents but two very different personalities. Therefore, I don’t think it’s anything that we are doing as parents to cause Landon to be extra-sensitive. I think it might just be in his genes.

While I was watching Landon through that window his life passed before my eyes.

I saw him being rejected by the other kids at school. I saw him playing alone every day because the other kids decided he did not fit in. I saw him coming home from school and crying in my arms because no one would play with him. I saw my child’s spirit breaking because he couldn’t understand why no one liked him. I saw him start to believe that there was something wrong with him. I never want him to think that. I want him to know that every little thing about him is exactly who he is supposed to be.

I think this is a big worry for mothers. The fear that our child will be rejected by society. And no matter how hard we try we can’t change it. Maybe it’s much too early for me to be worrying about my child having friends. But even so I am still worried.

Landon finally noticed me as I stood talking to his teachers. His sprint toward me was clumsy and wild like a bird learning to fly. When he reached me I scooped him up and gave him the strongest hug I’ve ever given him. In the car I asked him if he had any friends. He listed off a few names and I felt a little better.

I have always loved how sensitive Landon is. I tell him how proud of him I am and all that he is becoming every single night. I love that I can have amazing conversations with him at 3-years-old. Yesterday during dinner, he looked up at the pink clouds. The skies were washed in pink, a favorite phenomenon of mine.

He oohed and ahhed over how beautiful it looked and without any prompting he said, “Mommy, the sky looks like cotton candy and I’m going to eat it.”

He is so smart and innocently hilarious. I know he wants friends. I know that when he realizes what friendship is about he will be so good to those who want to be his friend. I can see a whole world in his eyes and that world . . . it is so special and unique.

It is a great worry of mine that others won’t want to be a part of it.

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Filed Under: Adventures in Parenting, he's growing up, just write, Landon 14 Comments

He is three.

August 8, 2011 By Molly

He is three. It’s as simple as that. And as complicated as that.

My first son. Our son who was born with an apgar score of 2. I screamed and cried as they took you away from me, blue and lifeless. We waited an hour. One whole hour to find out if you had survived your birth. And for the first time in years I found myself praying. I went to a quiet place inside myself and I found Him again. I prayed for God not to take you before I had held you. I prayed for Him to take me instead. If He was making the choice that moment. I gave Him the option. Take me, I prayed. Spare my son.

Then I looked up and saw your daddy come around the curtain. He was carrying you to me. And I knew. I knew that your second chance at life was also my second chance at life. I knew that you were my second chance at believing. Believing that I’m not alone. We are never alone.

All at once everything made sense. My past. My present. My future.

Even after three years, I still find myself saying thank you. Thank you for being you. Thank you for being ours. Thank you for making me a mama three years ago today. You’re just as precious now than you were on the day we met you.

You’re that boy who analyzes every situation. You make serious faces because you’re a serious guy. You love home. You love being with your family most of all. I sure do hope that trait sticks. You’re definitely pushing boundaries these days. We’ve had our challenges and we’ll have more ahead. But we’ll get through three together, okay Bud? You’re growing up and I’m so proud of you no matter what.

You’ve conquered so many milestones in the past year. You transitioned to a big boy bed. You sailed through potty-training as if it were no big deal.

You also grew into your role as a big brother. And although it’s not always what I would call brotherly love . . .

I know you really do love Brigham a whole lot.

In your future I see tree houses and imaginary sword fights and tents made out of blankets. I see piano lessons and soccer games and boy scouts. On second thought, I see whatever you want your life to be. I’ll try my best to make it so.