Ten years

Back to School makes me all sorts of nostalgic. Like how fun it was to back to school shop with my mom.  Not nearly as fun with my own kids.  When my mom took me she bought ME clothes, that didn't cost ME money, now I have to spend MY money on my kids, instead of ME. I've been even more reminiscence this year. When the high school seniors at our church became college freshman, it was .... I don't know the adjective. We have now lived in this house for two and half years, that is almost a year longer than anywhere else.  That means I've seen babies who I'm not related to grow up, I've never experienced watching my friends' babies go from infants, to two and half year olds!  That means the kids that went off to college were only 15 or 16 when we moved in, some didn't drive yet.  My own child was getting ready for kindergarten when we came and now we are getting him prepped for his baptism.

 Anyway so my nostalgia.  Ten years ago the week before Labor day I met my husband.  Neither of us remember meeting each other first the time, so needless to say it was not love at first sight.  I know by Labor Day I had already met him, because we talked at a Labor Day BBQ like we knew each other, but beyond that????  I remember the Bishop introducing us at some point on a sunday, but I also remember thinking, I've already met this boy.  Yes, we are one of those LDS couples where our Single's Ward Bishop encouraged us to be friends.  (Cue: Matchmaker Matchmaker make me a match song.) Anyway, so the point of the post, all month long I've been nostalgic about realizing I've known my husband for a decade.  A decade was such a long time before I made it to college.  A decade!  Its reminded me of all sorts of memories.  Maybe I'll share them over the next year and half, until we've been married for 10 years.

In the past 10 years we have gone from two single kids, to two married adults, with almost four children, two cars, three degrees and mortgage, that includes a nice big yard.  How life can change in a decade. I truly was a kid when I met my husband.  In case you didn't make the inference, I was 18 when I met my husband, I had been moved out of my childhood home for a whole like 5 days.  Overall I find this terribly embarrassing to admit.  My husband was 21.  Needless to say, by the time I was 20, and we got married, everyone including most of our relatives thought we were very young to be getting married.  They were probably right, but sometimes I wonder if its easier to get married young.  I was dumb and only knew that I never wanted Brent to move away from me.  Ha, the jokes on him, I moved to this house two months before him.  This all being said, I knew I was in love with Brent and never wanted to him to ditch me, but it was an extremely hard decision to marry Brent.  I wrestled with it, for months, not the idea of being in love with him, the idea of being married.

But I'm so off topic.  We are suppose to be reminiscing about the foolish 18 year old me, who went to college, with every article of clothing she own, thinking it was hardly anything for a wardrobe, only to come to find out Utah girls did not need as much clothing as North Texan girls.  My closet door was broken off for the first month of school, and everyone who came into my room said, wow you HAVE a lot of clothes.  Me the whole time wondering how anyone could get by with less.  Embarrassingly I now say I never once wore the same outfit to church the first semester of school. Luckily two of my roommates were California girls and were spoiled in similar ways. I still have and wear some of those clothes... Ah, to be an old married woman with many children so you have to wear clothes some of the same clothes for a decade. I guess I should be grateful, I am on my fourth pregnancy and can still fit into clothes I bought in High School.  I guess some clothes were a decent investment after all.

Back To School

I would post pictures but google and I are at odds, and this is probably the end of our friendship.  I refuse to pay $5 a month to host my pictures on my blog.
Anyway, school was wonderful.
Dropped J off, no big deal, other than the massive amount of parents parking and doing the same thing.  Which is why we walked.  I don't live nine tenths of a mile away for nothing.  Problem is I have to push my four year on old on the front of the stroller with her baby brother, and I'm 16 weeks pregnant.  Which means I have done no exercise in at least 10 weeks.  1.8 miles pushing two kids in the sun in August was a lot, I was super exhausted when we got home.
My daughter is in afternoon Pre-K she had a hard time waiting all morning.  When it was finally time to take her, we drove.  I'm a lazy american what can I say.  I thought I might cry a little in the car ride over, but I held strong.  Then once we dropped her off (I was the second mom to leave, no need for long good byes). I was carrying Turbo the baby out with me.  I kept giving him kisses as we walked, then I thought I would cry because I was so overjoyed that he and I got our alone time together again.  We came home and took naps, (we had a very full and exhausting morning) and then woke up and made phones calls.  (I only have 5 and half months left of just he and me as the baby.)
Then it was time for pick up, N gets out 20 minutes before J, so we waited in the car while it rained.  N loved school so much she didn't want to go home.  She has two kids from last year in her class, our next door neighbor, and two boys from church.  I loved that she loved school.
J said school was fine, and upon questioning him, he told me lots, but overall the first day was slightly boring and uneventful for him.  I love his school though, I love that his special teachers remember him and his personality.  Pick up was great because all the teachers remember him and me.

Rooms

Since I just told my blog I was pregnant.  I will say, I'm totally kicking myself for painting my daughter's room pink.  I knew I would, but I also knew she wanted a pink room.  Well it was already pink, we just wanted it less ghastly of pink.  Its really quite a lovely shade of pink.  Assuming her clothes and toys are picked up, she didn't wet the bed last night and there is a chair in there its a lovely room to read in.  That's a lot of stipulations I know, but if it was just a show room it would be lovely.
In case you didn't do that math, my next baby is coming in February (since I didn't have enough birthdays in February I figured why not add another one!) So at Christmas time I'm going to move my one year old in with his sister, we are putting the baby with the child who will be 8, two weeks after the new baby is born.  The 7/8 year old is a stellar child to share with babies, he sleeps through anything.  He can sleep through a baby crying himself to sleep.
Back to the point of the post, my one year old son is going to be in a pink bedroom.  How to make it a shared room instead of my son sleeping in a girls room?  I don't know, I just don't know.  It definitely changes some of the plans I had for my daughter's room.  Sadly, pinterest doesn't even have ideas for me.
I will say, I went back and forth with my daughter's room.  I wanted to paint it a unisex color in case we had to switch kid rooms ever, but then I just decided why not pink.  She's obsessed with pink.
Not that I'm repainting it, because my husband might have a hard attack if I suggested such things, but part of the reason I did pink is I figured its $30 and one conference weekend to change it, pretty easy.
The real reason I won't repaint, is a one year old isn't wise enough to care.  Plus the question is how permanent is their room sharing? Probably two years, but after that who knows?

Weaning

It was time to wean my baby.  Considering I've been pregnant for 15 weeks, and the baby is a year old, it was time.  Last Sunday I mentioned to my husband, how sad I was to wean him. (The baby was mostly weaned as it was.)  I said by the time you get home (he was leaving on a business trip for 5 days) the baby could be done.  It makes me want to cry.  He said you could always wait until I get home if its going to to make you sad.  I said good point.  That was my plan.  Then on Monday, it seemed ridiculous to nurse him at bedtime and the same on Tuesday.  Then I realized I was done being sad.  I had mourned on Sunday, and that was enough. Once I make a decision, I make a decision, and that is that.  I stress until I make a decision, but the minute I make the decision, I'm done, never looking back. My baby loves cow milk, its actually quite bizarre to me, none of my babies have loved it like the current one does.

Names

As you may know meaning of names is very important to me. So when my husband picked Durl for my third child's middle name I went with it. But I couldn't find the meaning for it, which slightly disappointed me. Yadda yadda yadda the other day I realized I should look up the traditional spelling-- Durrell. It means strong which is ironic since my husband picked the name from my great Uncle who at 70 still participated in Rodeos. And my son seems to be freakishly strong for a baby. Who knows how he'll be as he grows up, but in the womb he was by far my strongest baby. He was born 2 lbs bigger. And in general it has not been uncommon for strangers to interact with him and say wow he is strong for a baby. He has a freakishly strong grip, and has a tendency to hurt me when he is trying to play. 

But like I said who knows what he'll be like when he grows up. Then again he does have broad shoulders and red hair. 

On a side note like I said, I'm interested in name meaning. For years I thought my name was beyond lame because it means from the gray forest. Then I married a man who's name means from the hill. (He tells me his name was picked for its meaning.) My name finally found purpose next to my husband's name. 

Teeth

My poor child.  For the last year and half of going to the dentist I ask them the progress of my oldest's teeth.  He is now 7 and half.  He has not lost any teeth, and finally his last friend who hadn't lost a tooth, finally lost one a few months ago.  I was worried he wasn't growing new teeth under his baby teeth, but upon inspecting the last set of x-rays from 6 months ago, I misunderstood what they told me the previous visit..  He is indeed growing adult teeth, just slowly, and based on x-rays and exams he is going to get his molars before he starts to loose baby teeth.  So yes, my child is going to be like 9 when he lose a tooth.
About a month ago it clicked in my head, my daughter who is three years younger than her brother is going to loose a tooth first.
The dentist confirmed my assumptions, here is why.  The average baby gets his or her first two at 6 months.  My oldest was 14 months, and so he is going to loose his baby teeth that much later than the average kid who loses his teeth at 5.  Not only that, my son has is apart of the minority that is going to have his molars erupt before loosing his baby teeth, putting him that much more behind the curve.
Well my daughter got her first baby tooth at 10 months, still behind the curve, but I think children who teeth at 6 months it is not unusual to loose teeth at 4.  I'm not positive on this though.  My second son also got teeth at 10 months, my mom said I can't believe he has so many teeth (6).  I said well he is 11 months, she said you guys (as in her babies) never got teeth that early.  Point being 10 months is not early.  So if I got my baby teeth after I was 10 months, and I lost my first tooth in May after turning 5 in September, that would imply that my daughter is going to loose her baby tooth before she is 5 and half.  Not an exact calculation but an estimation after years of having the dentist and hygienists explaining baby teeth falling out to me.
Then we went to the dentist last week.  They confirmed my suspicions. They showed me with the scaler that indeed her two bottom teeth will probably fall out in the next 6 months, they were starting to be wiggly.  (Once home I inspect and they did not seem wiggly to me, so we still have a few months.)  While my son on the other hand, his molars probably need a little more than 6 months to erupt, and there is no sign of wiggles, his teeth are not close.  At some point this month I have to break the news to him.  He is not going to be pleased, but the hygienists keep telling me this is actually good, his adult teeth are going to be so healthy because he'll be old enough to care for them correctly.  They are also not worried because he has plenty of space for his adult teeth to grow in.
Such is life.  He has plenty of skills that he could tell you he is above schedule, but he also knows not everyone is really good at everything.  So some people read Harry Potter 7 really young, and other people loose baby teeth on time.  Such is life, you can't be everything.  Sometime it stinks to be a late bloomer, even if it turns out to be a blessing in the long run.  I'm pretty sure the consolation prize of really knowing how to care for his teeth will not make him feel better.