"Potty Training Brings Mother To Her Knees"

Disclaimer: This post is primarily about poop. Read at your own risk of inducing gag reflex.

I don't really like to write about the progress (and regression) of potty training with Sage mainly because it is my least favorite part of parenting to date and I am hoping that my brain will erase all memory of this trial much like the brain does when a person has been seriously physically or emotionally traumatized. However, the last two days have been a wide range of disgusting moments and jump-in-the-air victories that I can't help but share them.

First off, no. 1 has been going very well with very few accidents in a long while. No. 2, on the other hand, has been a virtual nightmare. To date Sage has only done that duty in the toilet a handful of times, the rest have been...well, there are few other options left so you can figure that one out. Is she afraid of it? No, I don't think so because when she has gone it wasn't that big of a deal to her. Is it a power struggle? Perhaps and if it is then she is winning and I'm clueless as to how to gain control of this situation. Bribes have worked but once the reward has been achieved she has gone back to her old routine of waking up in the morning or after a nap and notifying me that she has pooped in her pants--which really isn't necessary because I can smell it on the other side of the house. Trust me, I have tried everything. My only glimmer of hope has been that most kids seem to figure it out at some point, I'm just hoping I'll be able to send her to school because I'm pretty sure that "daily cleaning of poopy pants" is not on a teacher's job description.

That brings us to a couple of days ago. I knew Sage was up from her nap when I heard her talking in her room so I ran upstairs to get her, hoping that she had not done her thing yet but once I opened the door I could smell that I was too late. She looked at me as if I had just interrupted an important business meeting between her and the dolls and then said to me "Mommy, go out there. Please shut the door." I asked her, "Should we clean you up first?" "No." I obliged, figuring I would like a little more alone time as well. About ten minutes later I heard her open the door and head to my room. She walks in and drops this bombshell "Mommy want to clean the poop on the bed?" WHAT???!!!! I head to her room and right there, smeared across the bed, was my breaking point. Noooooooo. She had dug into her pull-up and then wiped what she had found onto her bed. Then I realize that she is walking around touching who knows what with that same hand. I race back to her and grab the nearest pack of wipes and start tearing one after the other out as I wash her hands, even getting under the finger nails, and then for good measure, wipe down then the rest of her body as well. By the time I'm actually changing her I am losing it as I ramble off something like "We do not touch poop. Poop is not a toy and we don't want to touch it because then our hands will be very, VERY dirty. You need to put your poop in the potty. No more pooping in your pants. No more. Repeat after me: I promise...I won't...poop in my pants." This ranting continued as I brought her downstairs seeing as how the container of wipes I had just used was for the purpose of cleaning her enough to get her from upstairs, down to the bathroom where I threw her in the shower. After hearing me say for the twentieth time "No more pooping in your pants," Sage interrupted me to ask if she could go in my parents hot tub. She's been asking this a lot lately so what does a mother do when she really wants a certain action from her child? That's right, bribery at its finest my friends. I'm not at all ashamed to use it--as long as it's used correctly. I tell her that of course she can go in the hot tub after she has pooped in the potty. Immediately after getting out of the shower she says "I have to go potty" so she sits down and starts pushing until her face resembles a tomato. She looks at me and concludes "It's not working. I have to try Papa's potty." Right, I'm sure that will make all the difference. We grab Clare and head to my parents bathroom which is also the room that holds the hot tub. The pushing resumes and after a bit she is able to push out the tiniest poop ever. Seriously, squint and you'll see it. Great. I have no choice but to make a huge deal out of it and let her get into the hot tub. I was actually pretty happy because I thought maybe I had stumbled upon the one vice that I could use to throw the power into my court. The next day she wakes up clean and I kindly remind her that there is a dip in the water coming her way when she makes a proper deposit. Later that morning she gets it into her head that she really wants to go in the tub so for 30 minutes she runs her naked butt back and forth between the bathrooms to figure out which toilet is going to be the one that works today. Every five minutes she would run to me (I was feeding Clare her cereal) and exclaim "Mommy, I did it! I did it!" and I would go look with her but what she had done was pee so I would tell her good job and keep working on that poop. Finally after making her victory claim for the sixth time I go look again, expecting to see nothing, and there it was...cue the choir...Papa's toilet once again worked like a charm. Oh, there was no faking my joy that time.

No dip in the hot tub yet today but also, no accidents either. My fingers are tightly crossed...in fact, they're starting to hurt from being crossed for so long. I'm hoping that if any of you see Sage in the next few weeks, you will find a water-logged girl with dry, itchy skin from all of her trips into the hot tub. One can always hope.

"Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree..."

It was one of those moments when you ask yourself as a parent "Was leaving the house really worth it today?" In an attempt to create a memorable, Hallmark moment for our children, my sister-in-law, Ester, and I persuaded my parents to drive an hour to the only Christmas tree farm in this area so we could cut down our own trees.

We would give our kids the experience of entering an enchanted world of snow covered pine trees gently sheltering the cozy cabin where they would be welcomed to gather around the fake fire glow and sip hot chocolate in the cancer causing styrofoam cups while filling our tummies on homemade chocolate chip cookies.

Then, only the brave would ready themselves to enter the legendary, spit-turns-to-ice-before-it-hits-the-ground, MN air. Their courage leaves us weak ones in awe.

With Papa leading the way, our fearless hunters set off on the trail to find the trophy Christmas tree. We pray for their safe return.

With much anticipation we waited for what we hoped would be the Christmas tree of all Christmas trees. Our excitement built in us until it bubbled over into singing and dancing with joyous hugs for one another.

Then, in the midst of our gleeful dancing we heard the sound...oh, the wonderful sound...of the snowmobile bringing back a tree cut just for us. This brought another round of happiness for all the children. Happy, happy, happy. Not crabby...just happy, happy...

Oh what's the use, here's what really happened.

We left to go get Ester and the kids over an hour past the time we had planned for which already was pushing back the naps we had planned for the kids to take in the car. After Ester and I had gotten the car seats and Anika and Kade loaded up I ran back to the house to get Kason only to find the door was locked. Poor little guy sat in the house, buckled in his car seat, all by himself for hour while my parents tried to track down Ehren at work to get the keys. So Ester and I sat in the van trying to entertain Sage, Clare and Anika who were all still needing a nap. When we finally got into the house there was Kason, playing with his socks and mellow as always. He had cried, obviously, during that whole wait but in the end I guess we can just chalk that experience up as a good lesson in self-soothing. So now it's 3:30pm, no naps, and yet we decide to still do the one hour drive and cut down three trees before dark. Do we throw in the towel and settle for a store bought tree? Never! The kids do alright on the drive but of course, Sage doesn't fall asleep until right before we get there. I tried my hardest to get her to go with my Dad, Ester and Kade to get the trees but she was not going to have anything to do with that party. So instead she stayed in the cute, warm cabin with my Mom, Anika, Kason and Clare and targeted all of her crabbiness at the nice old man who owned the place as he tried so hard to give her the cookies his wife had made and the hot chocolate that he had made sure was just the right temperature. After the trees were loaded and everyone had gotten their fill of cookies, we headed back home. Now it's 5:30pm which means it's Clare's supper time but since I had not planned that we would be there this late I had nothing for her besides the puffs Ester had brought and we were given a clear signal from Clare that that was not going to be acceptable. Ohhh, she was not happy and let me tell you, the girl may be little but she has a very loud, piercing cry like you wouldn't believe. This began that unavoidable chain reaction of "kid empathy" as Kason and Anika joined the cry fest--often filling in the silence as another would take a breath. We tried to soothe them with food and music but it was hopeless and in silence Ester and I accepted what our fate was to be for the journey home. The classical music that we had left on to accompany the screams somehow seemed to have a soothing affect on us mom's and as I started to replay the day in my head and then picture how pathetic we must look in that van, I couldn't help but start to get the giggles which made Ester laugh which made that whole day so much better. Another bright note was that in all of Sage's crabbiness, she did not join the others (that's my girl, don't give in to peer pressure!) and remained quiet the whole ride except for the few comments she made from the back of the van informing me that Clare was crying. It may have traumatized her a bit though because when we got home she kept saying over and over "Clare's crying and Kason is crying and Anika's crying and Clare's crying and Kason is crying and Anika..."

In the end I'm glad we went and we did get a beautiful tree and definitely a lasting memory of that day.

Backlogged

I have issues. I'm so behind on this blog that and the more behind I get the less time I feel like I have in catching up. Do I necessarily have to blog frequently? Not really, this is, after all, something I'm doing for the sake of documenting memories for my family so a missed week or two won't hurt I suppose (or else I may be using that as an excuse for my chronic procrastination problem). It's just that I missed writing about Thanksgiving and it was such a good Thanksgiving in spite of the fact that Brent wasn't there and for the sake of writing down the good moments when there are so many hard ones during this whole deployment thing, I must not let this last holiday go unmentioned. For those of you reading this who are so over Thanksgiving and already writing on your blogs about having all your Christmas shopping, baking and decorating done...whatever. You have my permission to read this even if your only purpose is to pat yourself on the back for having your life so put together, unlike those of us who are sitting here, reading (or writing) this blog, in our pajamas. If I sound a bit sour, it's only because I have not had my third cup of coffee yet. Sorry about that. I do hope that by finally getting this post up will serve to jump start my drive to write more because I actually do have a lot to share...whether or not you will find it interesting is up for debate.

Okay, on with the Thanksgiving highlights!

Thanksgiving was held at Brent's family's (Dad, Bruce, and Stepmom, Jane) house this year. Jane's son, Steve, and his two kids, Healy and Jace, joined the party for a nice low-keyed but wonderfully delicious meal. Jane is originally from the south so there were some added dishes to the table that you don't normally find up here. For the record, cornbread stuffing is so much better than regular stuffing in my opinion. I did not, however, go for the gizzard gravy.

Every time I see Healy and Jace I'm reminded of how little time it takes for kids to grow up. Those two were so fun to have around and Sage and Clare loved them. The last picture is on this post is of Sage and Jace looking at the Santa village that Grandma had put up for them. He sat with Sage the whole morning talking and looking at the village and you could tell that she loved every minute. Clare took a special liking to Healy and would willingly let her hold her with or without me there and that is a huge accomplishment in my book. Steve, bless his heart, tried so hard to win the girls over but they would have none of it. Little kids usually love him but our girls are not easily convinced.

I love this picture because it's a common sight when you are at Bruce and Jane's--particularly of Bruce. He's washing the dishes. Let me tell you, the man likes to clean. He's got this radar/super sense that can detect the second a dish has been left unattended and in super lightening speed will have it to the sink and washed and cleaned before you have a chance to pick that glass up to finish your drink. :o) I know all you ladies out there are salivating at the thought of having a husband with such skills. If you look at Jane in the picture you can see that she knows how good she has it. In all seriousness, I really have great in-laws and I'm not just saying this because they read this blog too. They gave me such a relaxing and rejuvenating weekend (which I will go into more detail later) and getting to be with them for Thanksgiving somehow made Brent seem not quite so far away.

Here are some of the girls highlights:

Sage discovered that the WonderPet's attempt to save the turkey failed. But Grandpa Buck helped her recover from her sadness by teaching her the proper techniques in using a very sharp knife to carve the dead bird. She in turn helped him by eating as much turkey as she could to help save storage space in the fridge.

Sage also was having a hard time with the reality that she has to share her Grandparents now with Clare. This led to the regression of insisting that she sit in the highchair (particularly when Clare was already in it). She's also wearing Clare's dirty bib. I'm picking my battles people and this is just not one I have the strength to fight right now. However, I will draw a line if she starts demanding only pureed food.

Clare discovered the wonderful world of Barbies...

...and quickly succumbed to the charming Ken. She also got her first tooth while we were there. Sorry Ken, that must have hurt.

The real highlight for me was that almost everyday I got a couple of hours to run out and shop or go to the bookstore or make my daily trip for a Caribou Coffee latte while Bruce and Jane would stay with the girls. Oh, how heavenly that was! Seriously, just thinking about those times out make me want to cry. I'll put it to you this way, once in the mall I realized I was walking at a super speed, totally zooming past the gazillions of people shopping and I knew it wasn't because I was in a hurry, it was because for the first time in I don't know how long, I was in a mall without kid. No stroller, no front pack with baby, no dragging a screaming child who won't get off the floor down the hall! It was the most amazing feeling. I really don't think Bruce and Jane have any idea of how much I loved that weekend and how grateful I am that they cared enough to make sure I had it. So many blessings, so many things to be grateful for.

On that note, I am now ready to move on to Christmas. I am glad to say that I have sent Brent's Christmas present but whether or not it will get there I'm not sure. Apparently the Taliban blew up a bridge south of where Brent is stationed so they are not receiving mail right now. On a positive note though, it looks like Brent will be getting his two week leave around the end of January which means he'll be here for Clare's first birthday. Needless to say, I CAN'T WAIT!!!!

She's Going To Be Fine

As I sat in the ER Sunday night, holding Sage in my arms while a mother's worst fears ran through my mind, I wasn't so sure that I would get to hear those words. I prayed for them over and over all the while telling Sage, "You have to wake up, Mommy needs you to be okay."

With tears of relief and gratitude I'm writing now to let all of you who were praying us through that ordeal that Sage came home to Nana and Papa's yesterday and is back to normal. For all of you who prayed, thank you so much--if I could I would give each one of you a hug right now. Those of you who are reading about this for the first time, it is only because there wasn't time for me to call you. Here is the quick version of what happened.

Sunday I took the girls to Fargo and left them for about four hours at my mother-in-law's house while I took some time off for myself. When I came back at about five, Sage was sleeping on her chair and Bev said she had been sleeping for about 40 minutes. I let her sleep a little longer before I went to wake her up and once I started to get her up it was pretty clear something was wrong. No matter what I did to try to wake her (I even brought her outside in the winter cold to try and jar her awake) the biggest response I could get from her was muffled groan or a drugged cry. We took her to the ER and went through about four hours of blood tests, urine tests, a cat scan and many questions. The first answer they gave us was that she had tested positive for marijuana. Imagine my shock at being told that! Thankfully this was shortly taken out of the equation and we learned that the test they administer is not very specific and what Sage had in her was labeled as marijuana. My mother-in-law has some very strong medication and to respect her privacy I'm not going to go into the details but from what we can guess, Sage swallowed one of them. Bev did remember spilling a bottle the week earlier and she thought she had picked them all up, which, I don't hold against her at all. It was an accident that could have happened anywhere, including our house as well. We will know for sure in a day or two what exactly it was that Sage swallowed when the lab results come back from Mayo.

Once they knew the reason for Sage's behavior, they pumped some charcoal into her stomach and sent her to the pediatric ICU to be observed for the night. I was able to talk to Brent during this which was a great relief and my parents also drove to Fargo that evening and stayed with me through it all. Brent's Dad, Bruce and his wife, Jane, watched Clare for me that night and all day Monday. I stayed with Sage Sunday night and every hour a nurse would come into our room to try and wake her and also to check vitals. They were closely watch her respiration and blood pressure since that is what the drug would have affected but both of these stayed normal. It was truly as if I awoke from a nightmare when at 4:20am I heard Sage say from her bed, "Hi Mommy. Daddy's in the desert."

They kept us there another night because they wanted to do an MRI (that came back fine) and to make sure she was acting like her normal self before they released her.

This has definitely given me a wake up call for myself to educating the girls more about not eating things they find that look like candy and to take more precautions when it comes to removing toxic things from their reach.

I have given a glossed over version of this experience but mainly because I don't want to relive parts of that time and also because the main point is that, praise the Lord, she is going to be fine.

Three Years Old

Dear Sage,

This Tuesday you turned three. Ugh, it feels like I was just accepting the fact that you had turned two! But to be honest Sage, I'm looking forward to three and happy to say goodbye to two because two did not always bring out the best in you or me. Still, it was fun year with many memories that your Dad and I will smile over for years to come.

Your actual birthday was celebrated over a birthday lunch with your cousins, Kade and Anika. It was a gourmet meal with meat and cheese sandwiches, carrots, pomegranate seeds and cookies that you picked out. We will have an official birthday party this weekend with all the grandparents, Uncle Ehren and Aunt Ester and their family and great, great Aunt Judith.

We threw a pre-birthday party for you while your Dad was home in October so that he could feel like he was a part of your big day. I don't think you minded that too much.

I'm pretty sure it meant a lot to your Dad too.

You definitely had a lot thrown at you this year kiddo. First, we made you give up your "only child" title and become a big sister to baby Clare. We didn't know what to expect the first time you met her--you had always went into territorial pitbull mode any time I held a baby before Clare was born. I now have a memory planted in my heart of you taking your first peek at Clare and giving her a little wave while saying "Hello baby Clare!"

Now the pitbull only comes out when someone else tries to hold Clare.

You endured many long road trips like a pro (and thanks to the help of that ingenious invention of a portable dvd player and a curious monkey named George). You even lasted through a trip with me and Clare to California. Mommy will probably not be flying with you all by myself for a while though.

The biggest challenge by far has been having to say goodbye to your Daddy that you adore with all of your heart and try your hardest to understand why he is far away and has to be gone for so long. One thing you will never have to doubt, little one, is that you have a Dad who loves you more than you'll ever know. You are only three but he is completely wrapped around your little finger.

I can't say that all of this change hasn't had an effect on you. There have been moments of...well...confusion and...um, let's call it frustration. Oh, and it has also made potty training my least favorite parenting job by far!

But in the end you have remained true to who you are. A shy girl who can romp in the mud and dig for bugs with her Daddy one minute...

and dance around as a Mommy's barefoot princess the next.

This week, for the first time, you have started giving me real kisses. Before when we would ask for a kiss, you would present your cheek to us so that we could give you a kiss. But the other day you planted a kiss on my cheek out of no where and I was so shocked and thrilled that I squealed and said "Thank you Sage! That makes Mommy feel so special." You got this little grin on your face and your eyes were shining with pride. I hugged you so tight and for so long without any intentions of letting you go until you said "Mommy stop that." We are so proud of you, Sage, and you never cease to amaze (and humor) us. You are our precious daughter and we love you so very much.
Happy Birthday sweetheart.

Hello From Afghanistan

I asked Brent to send me an email describing what it is he's doing there because frankly, I wasn't all that clear about it myself. I had a vague idea but not enough to be able to give an intelligible answer to everyone else. So this is the email and I hope, if anything, it gives you a better picture of how to pray for the men serving there.

Thanks for the pictures of bear. I sure miss her. Please send more or put on the blog. She changes so fast! It is weird, I know that she and Sage warm your heart when they do something funny or profound but it makes me sad. I don't really think about what I am missing until I see it and I get sad. There is my little daughter learning to stand. There she is with a smile. Or a story of Sage being shy. Oh Sage, you are our kid. I love the pictures and quotes but I sure wish I could be home.
I know you asked to write about what it is that my job is. Well, I am still learning it but it seems like a combination of things: there are 3 medical providers on our team--a PA, another doc, and me--along with 4 medics. We are in charge of our team of folks on this provincial reconstruction team. So, we provide medical care for around 90 or so people. Not that big of a deal as most are healthy and it is just seeing them now and then. So, that is the easy thing and what we all know how to do it well. Now it comes to the confusing stuff.
We are one "PRT" team charged with trying to help the government show itself to the people. Tough to do when there isn't much of a government. So our engineers try to help the Afghans build their roads or bridges, the civil affairs guys reach out to the community, and the medical folks try to help as well. The group before us were awesome and definitely on the right track. In my humble opinion modern medicine does not help large populations or societies, sure it helps individuals now and then with a heart procedure or something but changing a society's health it doesn't. Simple things do: sanitation, water, immunizations, food, etc. Well, that is what the team before me focused on. They found a way to purify water that is simple to do and cheap. They took a recipe that is helping many malnourished Africans and adapted it to Afghanistan. Instead of using peanuts (none are available here) they use almonds. With some almonds, milk, oil, sugar, etc. they can make high calorie food that helps the kiddo's. Cool. They got approval to have the national government start a midwife program here in Zabul. They also found a way to bring portable clinics to rural areas where their doctors were practicing out of a mud building. So, you ask what we are doing? Basically, it is our charge to keep these programs going. To bring clean water, food, and clinics to other villages. I like this. It is the right direction. There is no point with western medicine here and frankly it does not work and is nonsense to help an individual here or there when hundreds are dying of diarrhea or malnourishment. Does that make sense?
This county is weird. The villages/towns are made of mud. There is no electricity (or little), no running water, no way to heat your mud home except burning wood, and no economy. Yet, next to all this ancient world are a couple old cars, trucks, motorcycles, bikes, pop, and various modern things from Pakistan. Dirty but cute kids line the dirt streets and wave (some throw rocks) as we roll through in our $700,000 armored vehicles. The average Afghan makes $250 per year. The average Afghan lives to 43. The girls you know are growing up to be slaves. The people seem friendly, but yet I don't trust any of them. You pull up to the "hospital" and it is a mess and falling apart. The bathroom is used for storage, the paint is peeling, the walls are sinking, and the entire thing is corrupt. I am sure there are Taliban there and I don't plan on going there much at all. What a weird world.
Do I have much hope for this place? No. It does not come down to medicine, engineers, or reconstruction. It is money. It is the economy. This society does not have an economy that can sustain anything. There are no businesses. There is no employment. There are no roads to get things to market. There is no coastline to ship goods for money. How are these people going to sustain anything by themselves? How after the aid goes dry do they generate anything? How do they get things from the world when they have no money to give and no skills to offer? It just seems that it would be decades before this place gets out of this hole. Maybe I am wrong. Hopefully we will contribute a little good and help some out. It will be an interesting year, but one that I will be thankful is over.

Sun Bear

I realize that many of these posts are about things that Sage has done or said and very little with the subject being Clare. This is only because Clare doesn't say much beyond her babbling and the majority of her activities involve finding things to put in her mouth. I'm not one of those moms who goes into great detail about the first time their child eats cereal or what shade of red the diaper rash is today. However, if the cereal had been chucked at me after the first feeding or if the diaper rash had actually turned out to be strawberry jam then maybe I might find it blog worthy. Much more important to me is writing about the things that show, even at this young age, their personality. Someday I want the girls to read these ramblings of mine like little treasures kept to bring them back to a time of complete innocence and happiness and also to remind there was a lot of work put in to give them that happiness so they had better come visit us when we're old and decrepit and can't find our teeth.

That being said, this post is for Clare.

Today I walked into my parent's office where you were sitting with Papa and I use the word "sitting" loosely because the truth is you can't sit still; every fiber of your being needs to express whatever it is you are thinking or feeling. When you looked up and saw me, it was as if I was your long lost mother that you had been searching for for many long years and not just the few minutes I had been gone. You squealed and grinned and bounced and waved arms and kicked feet and almost threw yourself into the air at me. Now, I know that you were not at all miserable with Papa and that you had actually had a lovely time with him but, you little sweetheart, you saved your biggest love for me. I don't know if I'll ever be able to describe what that feels like to me but I will tell you this: I will treasure that picture of your joy for me in my heart for the rest of my life. You are such a sweet, happy little girl and you make it impossible for me to stay sad on these days when I miss your Dad so much. We have nicknamed you Bear because of the Care Bears (Clare Bear, Care Bear...you get the picture) but your Dad and I have said that if you are a bear then you are definitely a Sun Bear. You could make the grumpiest person on earth smile.

I know that someday I will not be such a huge thrill for you. I dread those days but it's okay, I know it's all a part of growing up and becoming your own individual. Just know that whenever you come home after being away for some time, you may find me squealing, grinning, bouncing, waving arms, kicking feet and throwing myself at you. I promise though, that I will not suck on your face.

"I'm a Monkey!"

I finally can start putting pictures back on the blog so of course I'll start with halloween. Sage insisted on being a monkey this year due to her love of Curious George. This year was special because we got to join cousins Kade, Anika and Kason at a community trick-or-treat put on by the Lions Club. She was so excited to go but the minute we stepped into the gym her shy side took over and we spent the entire time there watching people stand in line to play one of the too few games offered. Whoever is putting this thing together needs to sit with some kids for awhile to reassess what fun is exactly for kids because the excitement level of this shindig is floating at a 2...and I'm being nice. We went outside afterwards and made an attempt at taking a group picture of the kids. It was at this point that Clare did some trick-or-treating of her own by taking samples of whatever nature had left for her to grasp. We had many pauses during our photo shoot for me to run and rummage out whatever leaf/stick/acorn she had stuffed in her mouth. After that we headed to great great aunt Judith's who gave both Sage and Clare a quarter. She also tried to pawn off a duck figuring that she had won at a senior citizens event but Sage didn't take her up on the offer. She was planning on not answering the door to any trick-or-treaters except for us and my brother's kids but while we were at her house the doorbell rang. I could tell by her expression that she was a bit flustered and I could hear her muttering under her breath, "I hope there aren't many...I don't have a lot of quarters." She was greeted by SEVEN kids at her door. She came back in and was going to try to think up something to give them (I should have told her to offer the duck) but I'm pretty sure she sent them away empty handed. Oh Judith, you would absolutely love her if you knew her. She's a 90 year old woman with a sharper mind than me. Quite spry as well. When we walked into her living room I sat Clare on the floor and Judith, in one swift move, was sitting on the floor with not a hint as to any ailment she felt on the way down. My one big bummer was that I was so busy chatting with her that I didn't think to get the camera out to take pictures. We'll just have to go visit her again. Maybe I'll bring her a better duck.

After Judith's we headed out to Ehren and Ester's so that they could say they had at least one trick-or-treater (it's a depressing show if you live in the country). Then we headed back to my parents who had had just as sad of a turn out. We are now nibbling frequently on fruit snacks and tootsie rolls...I really like tootsie rolls...

...I went and got a tootsie roll.

Random Conversations

I have a new goal of trying to write down the cute little things that Sage and Clare say and do since I have no grand illusions of being able to recall them when I'm 70 (let alone two days from now). This first installation of hopefully many knee-slapping funny stories, is a conversation I overheard Sage having with her Nana. I actually first wrote it down in an email to Brent. I hope you enjoy it at least a fraction as much as we did.

Nana: "What are you doing Sage?"
Sage: "I'm a ballerina."

Sage twirls around and around.

Sage: "I'm dancing. Whoa!"
Nana: "You're going to be very dizzy."
Sage: "I'm a crazy dancer ever."
Nana: "You are a crazy dancer!"
Sage: "Crazy dance! Crazy dance!"

Now in Nana's bed.
Sage: "Time to go to bedtime."
Nana: "Are you going to bed now?"
Sage: "...very crabby."
Nana: "Who is crabby?"
Sage: "Everyone is crabby."
Nana: "Everyone is crabby? Hey, speak for yourself! Is mommy crabby?"

No answer.

Phase Two

One word for the week I just had--whirlwind. After a wonderfully blessed week with Brent, we brought him to the airport and I was forced to let go of his hand and watch him say goodbye to his girls again. I must admit (and he does too) that this parting was easier than the first...maybe because we know what to expect but also because this phase will be much easier for both of us. He will be finished with his miserable training and doing something with a purpose and I and the girls will be living with my parents (insert sigh of relief here). Having Brent home has only made me love him more and truly I feel like being married to him is a luxury. He flew back to NC and will be flying out to Afghanistan in a couple days so please, please please, keep him in your prayers.

An hour after we got back from the airport, my mom showed up to help move me and the girls up to MN. She had just finished up some job training in Sioux Falls, SD with her co-worker, Gayle, so they drove down to Omaha that night and then we hit the road by 9am the next morning. Bless their hearts for putting up with the extra two and a half hours added to an eight hour drive that riding with kids adds. Seriously could not have made that move without the extra room Mom's van offered for all the stuff I had to pack for this trip.

This morning I was officially welcomed back when the coffee I was sipping awakened me enough to realize it was snowing out. Good grief. Sage told me she wanted to go make a snowman but realized she couldn't when she saw that the snow melted on the ground. I assured her there would be plenty of opportunities to play in the snow in just a short time.

We are adjusting and trying to get back to our nights of little or no waking up (by we I mean Sage and Clare). The girls seem to be happy to be at Nana and Papa's and I'm just thrilled to have their company and of course their help. Between here and the many trips I'll make to Fargo to see Brent's parents, I am confident that all lost sanity from the past three months will be restored and the girls will see the return of a much happier mom and delicious, home cooked meals.
Right Mom?

I have many pictures to post but they were all taken on my new fancy, shmancy camera that Brent gave me and I need my brother, Ehren, to help me with the technical stuff and also I have to post them at his place because this connection my parents have is slower than snails. I seriously read a magazine while waiting to get to this page to write my post. We're talking SLLLOOOOOWWWWWW!!!!!!!

Together Again

He's home. Thank you Lord, he's home. It may be for just a week but right now I will take any extra minute with Brent that the government gives us. The plan had been that he would fly in last Thursday but they wrapped up training a day early and Brent was able to catch a flight out that day. Of course, he didn't share this change of plan with me so imagine my reaction when on Wednesday night, at around 9pm, I'm sitting on the couch and all of a sudden there is someone pounding on the sliding glass doors in the kitchen. I seriously sat there for a second wondering if I should turn off the lights or what weapon of choice I should take with me if I decided to approach the masked murderer waiting on our deck--a set of wooden blocks to chuck at him or a broom. When I finally got the nerve to see who the stalker was, there was Brent looking through the glass with a big grin on his face. Best surprise of my life so far.


Sage woke up that night which I'm sure he was happy about and when he went into her room with me she just stared quietly at him. We tucked her in but then fifteen minutes later she was crying again so this time I went into her room by myself. Fifteen minutes after I leave her she's crying again so this time Brent goes in there. He told me that the whole time he was in there she just kept saying "Hi Daddy, I missed you." After he left that time she slept through the rest of the night.


All concerns as to what the girls reaction to seeing their Dad after his absence of 2 1/2 months were washed away our first morning together. Even Clare, who was just 6 months when Brent left, was visibly thrilled to see her Daddy. That was the biggest surprise to me since she is very much a mama's girl. After coming home from a date the other evening, I woke her up to nurse her and I had a very hard time keeping her attention because she wanted talk to Daddy the whole time and throw him her best grins. I'm just so thankful that the girls are literally goo-goo over their Dad, it must help his heart a bit to know before he head's off to Afghanistan that he's loved this much.

As for me, I am so, so happy right now and I know this sounds a little funny, but I feel so incredibly relaxed. It's like I've been walking around tense, ready for the cry, the meltdown, the potty accidents, the stuff going into a curious mouth that shouldn't and the possibility of worst case scenarios. There is a thought in the back of my mind reminding me that he is going again but for now, let's not think about that. I just want to soak him up over the next few days and enjoy our family the way it is suppose to be--together.

Dr. Doolittle

There was a movie I related to more than any other when I was growing up: Dr. Doolittle. I'm talking about the one made in 1967 with Rex Harrison. I truly believed that this extraordinary ability to be able to talk to animals and understand them had only been given to Dr. Doolittle and myself.

With no fear I could approach an animal and feel out whether the creature was a shy sort or the more assertive, happy-go-lucky type.

I would know just the right softness to put in my voice to make the wildest of beasts melt at my gentleness.

Every gesture made was in tune to what the animal needed to hear to know that I was a friend, not foe.

Once trust was established, I knew I had made a friend for life...or at least until they were either sent to the butcher or run down on the highway.

My world was surreal and cheery as I lived in harmonious communication with the animals around me (unlike Dr. Doolittle though, I would not extend into the insect realm...on a farm that possibility was way too gross). Yes, just me standing in the gap between the misunderstood hairy beings and the rest of the human population.

That is, until the cow kicked me, the dog bit me and the cat used me as a scratching post. I don't plan on cluing Sage in on the truth, she'll figure it out on her own.

Back from the Golden State

I did it. Chalk one up in the victory box for me. I survived a trip to California, traveling with with the girls by myself. An understatement would be to say that it was a challenging trip but for sure it was so worth it. My friend Amy is living in the same difficult world right now as her husband Mike, who is also a family physician, is deployed to Afghanistan. She has twin three year old girls, Katie and Jessica, and graciously opened up her home to us to come visit and to give her and I a chance to catch up and offer support to each other. It's hard to truly be honest with people when they ask how your doing because this situation so completely and thoroughly rocks your life that your left feeling like very few truly can offer the support you need. So it was in many ways healing to be able to talk to someone who gets it and understands why exactly this is so hard. I asked a lot of Sage and Clare, especially Sage, to fly to CA, adjust to a two hour time change, go do activities while they were tired from lack of sleep and to do this all the while getting to know two friendly three year old girls and their Mom. While I'm writing this it's starting to make sense why there were so many meltdowns from Sage! When she's like that though, it does add to my stress but I don't regret any part of this trip at all because I really feel that she needs to be stretched sometimes to learn how to adapt outside of our little world here.

Overall, I'm so glad I went. Amy is an amazing host and is one of those people with the gift of totally making you feel at home in their house. I loved our late night chats after the girls were in bed and I'm so thankful God put the idea in our hearts to do this now. Speaking for myself, I needed this time to regroup and to really know that I'm not alone in this and I can't thank Amy enough for giving that to me.

Here are some highlights from the trip--unfortunately there aren't many pics and I'm so bummed to not to have a picture of Amy with Katie and Jessica but check out her blog if you want to see more. Warning! Her blog is so entertaining that you WILL become addicted.

http://www.mikeamykatiejessica.blogspot.com/

The Embrace of Everything Girly

I have a confession, I bought a Cinderella/Barbie type doll for Sage yesterday with no prompting at all on her part in an effort to steer her away (just a bit) from bugs. I was sharing with my mom yesterday morning about the little apple picking adventure I took the girls on and how Sage had spent most of the time digging worms out of the most rotten apples and examining them as they crawled around her fingers. GROSS! At least that was my thought but of course I love her curiosity so I have to be all "Isn't that fascinating Sage? A slimy, squishy worm that seems to love slithering all over you!" And then yesterday, while I was trimming the bushes that had taken on jungle size proportions, she was in the midst of it looking for bugs and eventually pretending that the fuzzy ends of weeds were caterpillars. So I have decided that it would be in my own selfish, I-don't-want-to-be-grossed-out interest to introduce her to a new world of fun. And what is more fun than a Cinderella doll complete with sparkles, a skirt you can take off and even a crown? Even better, this is a bath time Cinderella with a little watering can and a Gus mouse that squirts water out of the little soap bar he's holding. Let me tell you, once I saw that Sage could play in the water with this doll, I knew I had a winner and a reprieve from catching grasshoppers.

So far my master plan is working and all last evening and this morning Cinderella has had a break from all her chores and has been in sheer luxury at the Sage Spa Resort. Best of all, there was not a worm in sight.

We're Still Alive

Jane called me this morning because she was worried about us since I hadn't posted anything for a week. We're okay, I'm just exhausted. I have a new found respect for single parents and right now I can't wait to head up to my parents. God is good and He'll get us through this but that doesn't mean it's going to be without struggle. Let's just leave it at that.

On a brighter note, I just finished a parenting book called Negotiation Generation. It took a long time to get through this book as the writer seems to enjoy reviewing her points over and over until you are repeating them in your sleep. She believes that parents today over talk to their children about rules (or "fences" as she terms them) until it becomes a negotiation and power struggle with the child. Her plan is for you to be a proactive parent and let your child know your expectations for their behavior and the action that will be taken for misbehavior, before conflicts arrive. Then if the child disobeys, the parent no longer talks but in a respectful way will physically remind the child what is expected. Here's an example from the book: Mike is three year old who has a hard time sitting long enough to eat his meals and is lately using his hands to eat instead of utensils. Before dinner his mom says "Mike, at dinner you'll need to use utensils for eating and you'll eat sitting in your chair. If you forget, I will remind you." The meal starts and after ten minutes Mike picks up his chicken with his fingers; his mom hands him a fork. When he gets out of his chair, his mom returns him to the table. She may have to do this many times for many days but over time the consistency of the action she takes to show him what she expects will enable him to learn his mealtime "fence." There is obviously more to the book than this or else I would have given up reading it weeks ago but that is the main idea behind the book.

So armed with my new parenting skills I have been trying to implement this theory with Sage and for the most part, it's been pretty effective. There is just one problem that I've run into and that is what do you do when the conflict wasn't predicted and you find yourself in the middle of a meltdown? Get ready because I sooooo have an example for you.

Last week we went to the library. It had been a very long time since I had taken Sage to the library but thanks to the book "Curious George and the Library," I felt pretty confident that the expectations I had for Sage were all laid out and clear. She could pick out up to five books, one dvd and we had to use our quiet voices at all times while in the library. As we walk through the doors she sees it; the fish tank. Excitement overtakes her as she runs over to get acquainted with the "silly fish" until her hopes of enjoying them all to herself are dashed when two strange children have the audacity to run to the fish tank before her and steal away the fish's attention. It was then that I started to watch all my proactive parenting unravel. When my sweet little cherub started charging at the two children yelling "THAT'S MY FISH!" I quickly--without a word of course--grabbed her hand, did a quick u-turn and headed back to the door. Here's where my confusion comes in.
1) Was I suppose to predict there would be a fish tank and that Sage would freak out? I can't really leave the girls in the car to go scope out the situation. Maybe I was suppose to call ahead and ask if there was anything in the library that might spark an irrational territorial response in an almost three year old.
2) Am I still suppose to keep to the "no talking in the midst of a conflict" rule when I never laid out my expectations for fish tank in a library behavior beforehand?
3) Should I talk to her about the fish behavior but use the "no talking" rule for the "we do not use our loud voice in a library" fence that she is so clearly violating?

I decided, in my state of sheer panic, to stick with all show and no tell. I figured my best route would be sign language so I dug into my signing wealth of knowledge from the handy Baby Signing Time videos. Let's see...Fish--put hands together and make a swimming motion...are for--hold up four fingers...everyone--make one broad swoop of hand (I figured that by including everyone and not just the two kids I was being proactive)...no--shake head...screaming--make a lion-is-roaring face.
By this point I think Sage was crying more at my scary lion face than anything else so I decided to throw caution in the wind and got down at eye level and said in my very serious voice "Sage, you need to stop crying. The fish are not yours, they are for everyone. You can go look at the fish but if you can't be nice to the other kids then you need to stay with me. Let's go in and find some fun books to bring home." That seemed to work for a little bit and then it was like she wanted to try to claim the fish again so I put my hand on her shoulder and said "No more." After that she was fine. We got three books and a dvd and headed home. I think the biggest lesson I'm going to keep from this book is this: know your kid enough to know how they'll listen and learn in a way that's best for them.

Nobody Loves You Like Your Grandparents

My Mom's side of the family, the Johnson's, are perpetual teasers. I must say that when in their company, I fall right into the ranks with them. I'm not sure but this may have come from my Grandpa. He and my Grandma would babysit me when I was little and even at a young age I understood the game that was being played between him and me and teased him right back. At least, that's what I've been told. Sadly, he died when I was five and my memories of him are only a few. I know that he must have been special to me because after he died I found a big rock in the ground under the canopy of a pine tree and designated it as his tombstone. For years I would crawl under that tree and sit by that rock, just wanting to feel close to him. I'm sure I could find that rock to this very day.

Our girls are so blessed to have five grandparents who love them so completely and unconditionally and it brings such joy to Brent and I each time we watch them love on our kids. This last weekend when Bruce and Jane were here and their visit was a welcomed respite to our sometimes unbelievably long days. It was absolutely hilarious to watch Sage make an egg bake with Grandma Jane, amusing Jane with her exclamations of "I just so happy to eat!" And I love it that Bruce took Sage to the zoo the next day and spent what I'm sure was an obscene amount of time at the bird exhibit just so that she could experience the birds landing on her. We met up with them later at the hotel where he and Sage hopped back and forth from the hot tub into the pool until I had to practically pull the two of them out of the water just so I could get the girls home to bed. Even Clare, who is pretty much a Mommy's girl right now, was even getting a kick out of her grandparents.

Their visit really got me thinking about all the wonderful things I missed out on when I lost my Grandpa at such a young age. Not to get too morbid but this has led me to a plea I have for you, Bruce, Jane, Mark and Audrey (and Bev, but I'll have to verbally ask her because she doesn't have internet); please, I beg you, take care of yourselves and do whatever you have to do to be around for these girls and all the rest of your grandchildren for as long as possible. I want them to know for themselves the very special relationship they have with each of their grandparents and not just what others have told them. Thank you for loving them the way you do, I don't think I could ever tell you how much it means to us but then again, you are parents yourself and probably already understand.

Meet Our New Neighbor

Last week I looked outside and saw a little rabbit taking a nap in our front yard. A few hours later he was still in that same spot. I finally saw him hop from his cozy bed that evening when a hawk swooped down trying to snatch him up. The next day there he (or she...I have no way of knowing) lay in the exact same spot only this time in the pouring rain. It rained again the next day and again, there was the rabbit.


There he sat in the cold, cold rain.



As they gathered from far and near to see the strange rabbit who would brave such torrential weather.



I had a brief, horrible thought that maybe this rabbit had chosen his final resting place and was awaiting a peaceful passage. Disposing of a dead rabbit is definitely not something I want on my to-do list right now. So of course I charged at the rabbit in the middle of the thunderstorm to make sure there was a some life left in him and all my fears were laid to rest when he took off like a...well, like a rabbit.



So after explaining to Sage that no, we weren't going to play in the rain, Mommy just lost her mind for a second, the rabbit returned and we went back to our watch posts and were even joined by our cat, Madjka.



Have I told you about Madjka?




He weighs three more pounds than our seven month old daughter.



You would think Clare would be a bit intimidated but the enormous furball only seems to fascinate her.



Back to the rabbit. This is a picture of him today, still hanging out in our front yard and, thankfully, still has plenty of bounce in his hop. I don't know why he's chosen to spend his days here, being ogled by a curious two year old but I'm going to choose to believe that he's here to give us something to look forward to every day as we run to the front door to see if our new neighbor is home.