Everybody has rough patches.  Everyone needs encouragement from time to time.  Sometimes, you just don't know where to get it, right?  Now you do.  If you ever need a little pick-me-up, here is a website just for you.  This has me smiling from ear to ear.  Whoever made this site deserves an award.  Or, at least a really good meal.  Genius. 

http://isitgoingtobeok.com

Cataract Falls

The Waldens did Cataract Falls.  Two things are important about this trip:

1.) Waterfalls are more like water-trickles when you are in the middle of a drought.
2.)  Some places are not located on a map. 

Our one-hour drive to the Falls included one extra hour of driving time because I.  Could.  Not.  Find.  My. Way.  Spoiled by modern technology, I assumed that I could just use my trusty navigation to reach my destination.  Oh, no.  I could not.  I relied on a very kind mailman in a rusted-out Taurus, one appearingly-toothless man on his front porch in a rocking chair (picture the area as the Ravenswood neighborhood if it were featured in the film Deliverance) and a young, shirtless kid kicking rocks down the gravel road.  I'm not even kidding.  I think I spent at least 10 continuous minutes muttering "Oh, hell.  Oh, hell.  Oh, hell.  Oh, hell."  But, several three-point-turns later, we made it.  And it was great.  And we will go back again when it's a little more lush outside.  (Also, Adam is getting a little hurt that we road-trip without him, so I have promised that we'll take him back this fall.  Assuming, of course, that it rains before then.  I can't say that it looks so promising right now.)

This pictures are absolutely not in order, but I suddenly have a headache and really don't want to mess with moving them around.  Bear with me.

The boys were most impressed that they could see water through the floor of the covered bridge. 

The inside of the bridge.  According to Patrick, "This house is really awesome, but it's a little run down."  Indeed.

So excited that they couldn't wait for their old mom and baby brother.

Picnics include bees.  Even Arby's picnics.

The bridge.  Don't you just want to have an intimate wedding inside?  Me, too.

The upper falls.

I am quite literally obsessed with this place.  Next time, I am reserving at least 45 minutes to peruse the floor-to-ceiling wooden shelves,( circa 1915, I swear.)

Words of Wisdom



Dear boys, please take note.

Love,

Mom

Leo Walden

Missing Out

Every now and again (definitely not infrequently) people ask me if I feel like I'm missing out by not having a daughter. If you need a black and white answer, it's "no." Not even once. If you need something a little more in color, look at this. Let me assure you; I am missing out on nothing:

Can you tell I have been working less?

Break-Through

It's interesting to me that, less than 48 hours after admitting that I have major short-comings when it comes to being Leo's mother, I feel as though I have had a breakthrough.  Now, that is not to say I feel like I'm in the clear, but that we are at least heading somewhere.

A while ago, I posted something about how my advice to people when they are unhappy with something is to fix it.  I tried to follow my own advice.  And, as fixing things tends to start with fixing one's self, that's what I have tried to do.  My approach, admittedly, is terrible.  (I fear that I sound all-knowing when I start these posts.  Let me assure you that I am not.  I'm just really trying to figure all of this out.  Having three really different kids means that I have to learn how to be three really different types of mothers.  It's confusing to me, too.)

Going on:

So, according to all the research I did (see previous post), there are some tactics for dealing with strong-willed kids that are supposed to work.  I am not good at these.  However, I tried to make myself good.  For the last two days, I have stopped the multi-tasking and really tried to hone in on the kids.  1.) Favor to myself.  2.) Favor to the kids. 

When it comes to Leo, he really does need a calm and firm approach.  I can't say I'm the best at that with him.  But I've gotten better, at least in the past two days.  Here is what happens:  Leo breaks down.  I ask him (calmly) to sit in his room until he is done.  He goes, pouts, maybe screams at me for a few minutes and throws a few books.  It goes quiet.  I hear a few sniffles, and then, "All done, Mommy.  All done."  (If I could add sounds effects here, I would.) 

This worked like a freakin' charm the first day.  Today, he backlashed a little bit, but I stayed firm...and calm (though I too felt myself slipping.)  His tantrums in his room are becoming shorter and (huge success) he has gone to bed on time three nights in a row.  Three.  This is (and I hate this word) epic. 

I would be an idiot to think that we're all cured.  However, I feel as though we could be on the verge of a turn-around.  Not that I would turn this little Lion into a calm, easy-going, little hippie baby, but I wouldn't want to, anyway.  I love Leo's intensity, his strength, passion, etc.  It's who he is, but we have to start learning how to work with each other and not against each other, and we may be getting there.

I felt as though giant strides were made this morning when I woke up to just two of us occupying our bed (the only two who should be.)  I almost couldn't believe it, and then it dawned on me that someone probably kidnapped the kids overnight.  Doesn't every mother think that at some point?  I snuck out of our room to check.  There, on the couch, were two little boys, curled up around each other.  Their room was empty, but, then again, so was ours.  Not a complete success, but we are getting somewhere.  Finding my zen, finding my zen...

Peapod has saved my @$$ again.  I am sitting here, patiently waiting for our delivery of groceries so that the boys will have something other than rice for dinner tonight.  (That is an exaggeration.  I don't know how I did it, but I managed cheesy chicken, broccoli and rice last night.  Barely.)  What did people do before groceries could be ordered online and delivered?  Did they actually drag multiple children to the store?  Eesh.  Reason #19 why I am no good as a single parent.  Revision: reason #22 why I am super resourceful as a single parent. 

The Tale of Two Brothers, As Told in Photos

Teeth

Because I haven't already posted enough today, I need to add just one more thing:

This past Thursday, tiny William Walden had two teeth.  Today, he has five.  Five!  (Three more teeth with which to assault my nipples, but we are all very excited for him nonetheless!)

Leo.  For 2 hours and 56 minutes, I have tried to get Leo to take a nap.  I have tried every trick I know, every advice column "Do" & "Don't."  I have failed...at it all.  Finally, ignoring him for hours and hours on end got old and Leo just snuck out.  I continued to ignore him.  He curled up next to me.  I didn't lay eyes on him.  And ninety seconds later, he was snoring.  Relieved, I am, yes.  But what am I doing wrong? 

Recently, I told Adam that I don't know how to be the Mom that Leo needs right now.  (These kinds of comments are the reason the boys won't be able to read this until they are grown.  Perhaps until they have kids of their own.)  I try.  God knows, I try.  God also knows that I love that kid so viciously, I can almost not stand it at times.  We need each other.  Lately, though, we need each other so much that we need a break from each other. 

He wants to be on me all day long.  Physically, on me.  He completely melts down when he can't get his way, soothed only if I hold him to me really tight for a period of time.  (It's much like Leo as a baby.  Happiest when we are belly-to-belly.  So help me, he would do skin-to-skin all day long if he could.)  The way to handle Leo sounds easy.  Get down on his level.  Don't reason with him.  Don't talk to him until he has calmed down.  Curse.  Curse.  Curse.  Easier said than done.  Friday night, Leo threw a tantrum so badly that he gave himself a black eye flinging the books off his bookshelf.  I gave up, not enforcing anything because I was too exhausted, because I had company and didn't want to expose her to endless screaming, and because I felt badly that his life seems like an endless string of discipline at the moment.  Curse again.  I don't know what to do, aside from pad the walls in his room.  Bolt the furniture from the floor.  Strap him in his bed at night.  Sigh.  I'm failing. 

It must be said that this is a new phase for Leo.  Granted, he has always been stubborn and set in his ways.  That much we know.  But this temper, this atomic-level-meltdown business is new.  And I don't know what set it off.  I have been told that it's Middle Child Syndrome, and because I am afflicted with a terrible case of the Catholic Guilts, I think it is all my fault.  Maybe we made him a big brother before he was ready?  Maybe he needs some more one-on-one?  Maybe my approach is only making him worse? 

Then again, maybe, just maybe this will pass.  Maybe, once this last molar is in, I will get my sweet baby back?  This is a steep learning curves, and I am no good at climbing an incline.  My baby, my sweet, goofy, funny baby Leo is such an extraordinary kid that I feel badly thinking this, much less posting it.  Pray that it passes.  Don't judge my baby.  And if you see me out and I'm frazzled, sharp-tounged, tearful, or otherwise, don't judge me, either. 

For now, I will enjoy the smell of this sweet, snoring, bruised-up-because-he-doesn't-know-his-limits baby.  Sweet Leo. 

Zaharakos

The Waldens did Zaharakos.  Cross that off of our list. 

This past Monday, I packed up the boys and headed an hour south to Columbus, Indiana (much to Adam's scrutiny.  He doesn't understand why I'd set myself up like that.  Since all three of the boys will compete to blood for my affection these days, it could have been disastrous...but it wasn't.)  If you have never been to Columbus, I would suggest it.  Since taking a "field trip" there in college, it's become one of my most favorite of Indiana towns.  It's beautiful, quaint, hosts fantastic architecture, and a really friendly, small-town vibe that I cannot get enough of.  (If you don't know, most small towns in the Midwest are likely to end up being dear to my heart. There is just something about small town charm that always makes me feel a little bit at home.  Naturally, this led to me calling Adam for a 10-minute persuasion session on why we should move to Columbus.  He didn't say yes, but he didn't say no, either.)

Going on, Zaharakos is an Indiana landmark, serving fountain sodas (the real kind!) and homemade ice cream since 1900.  It has beautiful, shiny floors and a marble bar.  The waitstaff wears bowties and there is mechanical music, which the boys really got a kick out of.  In short, this place was the coolest.  I foresee a birthday or six here.  Here are some photos from our truly excellent little outing.  I really love these boys.  And I love ice cream.  How could this have gone wrong?

And because I love a historical point of reference, here is Zaharakos in its (much) earlier days.  The table we sat at was the one in the far right with the coat draped over it. 

It was a happy day. 

Summer Bucket List

Here is the Bucket List I have composed for the boys this summer.  As we are already half-way through July, I kind of need to get moving on this. 

1.) Visit Mulberry Fields (Zionsville).
2.) Take a day trip to Cataract Falls.
3.) Take the boys for lunch and ice cream at Zaharakos.
4.) Visit a beach at Indiana Dunes.
5.) Go to an Indians game.
6.) Go to the State Fair.
7.) Road trip to my hometown. (I had to throw this in there because we have this planned out already.  It seems logical to add it to the list since it is, in fact, reasonable this summer.)
8.) Set up the outdoor "theater" for a movie and popcorn night.

So far, we have only three checked off our list.  It's time to get serious. I'll try to photo document what I can.  Try, I say.

So, the phone app is helping a bit, in terms of allowing me to make short, on-the-spot posts, but I still find myself falling behind in sitting down and writing a full-on blog post.  At least we are moving in the right direction, though, right?  A little bit every now and again is better than nothing at all?  Maybe?  Yes?

News:

* My Hatchie is a sweet and loving and very tiny baby.  Ok, that's not news, but he just turned nine months old and, I kid you not, barely a day passes that we don't thank God for such a good little kid.  He is magic, just like his dad.  At nine months he:

1.) Still has two teeth.
2.) Can move around really well.  Pulling up, standing for a second or two on his own, crawling and climbing and moving, moving, moving.
3.) Loves to dance.
4.) Is a really good eater (important to note since we have failed miserably at actually sitting him down to feed him meals.  Up until this week, he has been almost exclusively breast-fed.  Embarassing, but true.)
5.) Is scrappy.  And I mean SCRAPPY.  He would eat my face off if I let him.  Two teeth or twelve, that kid can bite. 

He was baptized two weekends ago, and we failed any pictures.  Ugh.  However, everything turned out really well, my new brother-in-law nailed an incredible selection of smoked meats and we had some delicious (and theme-coordinating) cake balls, thanks to Spheres.  Check them out:












And because there is always a phone handy...or a helpful aunt to snap a quick family photo, we do have at least a couple pieces of proof that our William Hatcher Phillip Walden is now part of the Catholic Church:

*Leo-Monster had his two-year check up, which I anticipated going truly horribly.  If you know Leo, you know why.  As loving and affectionate as he is, he is...um...he's intense.  Which is exactly the warning I gave to the poor nurse administering his four shots that day.  To our surprise, Leo cringed for the first one, yelled "OW!" for the second, and ate fruit snacks for the others.  Not a single tear, and nobody got hurt.  Giant, giant relief.  And speaking of giant, Leo's estimated adult height is 6 ft, 2.8 inches.  Ok, maybe not giant, per se, but when his maternal grandfather is a mere 5' 3.5", anything close to six feet is tall.  OVER six feet is unheard of.  Check Leo out in the Dr.'s office, playing his favorite game of "Don't Give Me Your Mean Eyes":

You're just playing with your mean eyes, right?

Look me in the eye.  I am so cute.  I need to see that you are just playing with me. 

See?  I'm goofy AND cute.  And I am starting to get nervous.

Ha-ha!  Goofy face.  You cannot resist my goofy face.  I will make you stop the mean eyes.

Fine.  Keep your mean eyes.  But I will give you my mean eyes, too.

Haha! Tricked you again!  I am goofy and so funny and you cannot keep from laughing at my funny face.  Try it. 

But this game is old and I just want to sit here. 

*And Patrick.  My Patrick.  The older he gets, the more he enjoys not being in the spot-light...sort of.  He is very concerned with things being "special" for him (we have yet to figure out what he means, but when we hand he and Leo identical string cheeses and he asks if his is the "special one," we naturally say yes.  Who wouldn't?).  He wants everything to be fair and equally divided between he and Leo.  If we give Leo a compliment, we must immediately give Patrick one, too, for fear that his feelings will get hurt (and he'll tell you.)  Patrick is special; I tell him every day.  He's such a good kid.  Sigh. 

* Adam and I are in a place that feels new.  Familiar, but new.  Finally, I feel like I'm living my life again instead of working toward something else.  Adam is gone a lot, which means I'm left single-parenting more often than not, but it's not so bad.  He and I are in such a good spot right now that I don't even mind having to relay things a bit.  When he's coming, I'm usually going, but we manage to squeeze in at least a little quality time, and we really are happy.  Enamoured with each other again, which isn't to say that we ever weren't...we were just a little pre-occupied for a while.  How I lucked out with someone like Adam, I don't know.  (Well, I do.  God and I made a deal almost exactly seven years ago.  Maybe I will tell you about it one day.)  Anyway, Adam is a great life-partner.  He's a good man, and we're all lucky to have him.  Still, I feel a little unsettled.  I can sort of put my finger on it and sort of not.  I find myself stressed out, sleep-walking again, and just a little "off."  (Which you may have noticed if you have any intuition.)  I'm working through it, and feel at least a little lucky that I'm aware of my "off" nature.  If I could just fix it, but how?  I need to find my zen again.   It's in here; I just need to dust it off. After all, who wants a dusty zen? And who could be unsettled when this is your life? Right?

After all:

See what happens when I get the Blogger app? More frequent posts, although not at all lengthy. Things I might normally post on Facebook and then immediately regret (because, as you know, I have mixed emotions about sharing personal information), I post on here instead. Still public, yes, just not as accessible. As I am heading off to watch a late-night movie in bed with Adam, I have only this to say: Adam Walden is the most selfless, supportive, and overall excellent man I have ever met. If the whole world were to try and beat me down, it would be alright as long as I he still crawled in bed next to me at night. This, my friends, is the truth.

The Voice

After such a lovely day yesterday, today has been the pits. The AC in the van is out, the garage door just broke, as did one of my molars. Also, the kids are falling apart around me. I will not lose my mind...I will not lose my mind...I will not... It might be too late.

May God bless you always, William Hatcher. You have blessed us two hundred and seventy times over. Your baptismal day was as special as you are, little bluebird. Life is good.