Livin' on a prayer

Having three has been quite an adjustment for us. And now nearly 4 weeks out, we are beginning to see some semblance of normalcy around here.

While the kids haven't had any negative reactions to Max specifically, the upset in our routine and life has certainly made an impact. And again, as I should begin to expect, it was in ways that I did not predict.

I worried that Luke would feel very displaced and possibly aggressive. While I can tell that he is feeling a little displaced, he is like a gentle giant with Max. He barely grazes Max with his big paws to give him the softest pats. He calls him, "Baby Macks". He has needed a little extra love but he makes it easy by coming to snuggle up with me on the couch, especially when I am feeding the Baby. He still whines an incredible amount and has taken to emptying the entire toy house over and over. But overall, I could not love my quirky big boy any more.


It has been Ava who has taken me for a ride. Again, I don't know why I was surprised. I guess I just assumed that because she was older she would more easily make the adjustment. But I guessed wrong. She was very thrown off by Dan and I being gone in the beginning and having my parents stay at the house. It was clear that she was very stressed. And when Ava is stressed, it makes it self evident in some very unpleasant ways. I have only seen the likes of these tantrums once before and it involved the Katy rodeo and throw up.



She was so contrary, so ornery, so mean. It had me feeling really down and discouraged. Our time at home was so miserable and I couldn't help but worry that this was our new life and it stunk. And it would stink forever.

It was kind of like not feeling comfortable in your own skin. Because really my family is my skin.

People had warned me about how having more kids really gets easier because your older kids get older, but here I was feeling so bad, not because I was struggling with a newborn or my toddler. I was staying up at night consumed with worry over my oldest.

She is something. I don't know what it is, but she is something. She is the hardest thing I have ever done. I have had personal revelation on at least three separate occasions that explained to me that she and I were meant to be together. That it was no accident that she came to me. There is reason behind our relationship. Now I believe that the make up of all families is no accident, but I have been taught again and again that Ava and I are meant to be together. Maybe because that is information I need to remember when I am really struggling with her.

I already feel that I have learned so much and grown so much from being her mother. But these past few weeks have had me feeling so overwhelmed and anxious. Add to that the last few months of the pregnancy had me feeling so down, I was beginning to feel a little forgotten by Heavenly Father. I wondered how long He was gonna make me wallow. (Not really a good practice, I know.)

I have done some serious praying. Possibly the most serious I've ever been. Maybe even borderline begging.

And as I should have known, He delivered. Not that everything turned into Coltontopia, but rather three key pieces of information brought improvement. Three pieces of information that probably do not interest anyone else but our little family, yet I am writing them down for the sake of memory and therapy for myself.

Ava was having some serious trouble getting to sleep and at the end of a long day (and night with a newborn), this was enough to send all of us over the edge. Enter info number one: no more nap, instead she watches a movie on the portable dvd player in her room. This did shorten my personal alone time (to about 1 hour 20 minutes) but instead of her taking an hour and a half to fall asleep, and calling me into her room about 100 times, she knows rest time is over when the movie is done and she doesn't usually call me. So instead of 2+ hours of fractured time, I get 1.5 hours of uninterrupted time, which is just the break I need. And it also translates to a very sleepy girl at bedtime who puts up much less of a fight, due in part also to info number 2: Read a book together before bed.

Since the fight for bedtime is a fairly recent phenomenon, and she has always gone to bed so well with the "magic words" I have told her since she was a baby, we never saw need to mess with the routine. But after a little inspiration, we've introduced a story. Sitting on her bed, snuggling just her and I, provides some of the things she desperately needs right now; physical affection, attention, entertainment, love.

And the bedtime and naptime fights are basically old news now.

The third bit of information is fairly personal, yet I feel compelled to include it. And there is the great possibility that no one is even still reading this!

After a very rough morning at home, I sat in the doctors office waiting room for Max's check up with my mom. I was feeling so bad and I don't even remember what we were talking about, although I know it was about Ava. I had a light bulb moment. And with lots of tears it also brought a new perspective. I thought of my labor with Max. I thought of how each contraction hurt real real bad, but brought with it the progress that was necessary. And I remembered having the phrase "don't kick against the pricks" go through my head the entire labor-that tensing up only slowed the process, just breathe, accept it, and move on. And I remembered that when Max was actually born, the relief was so wonderful, that the moment was one of pure joy and elation, and I had realized then that the pain had been a required ingredient for that end result of utter happiness I was feeling.

And in a second's time, that whole situation was juxtaposed in my mind with the situation I was in with Ava.

It is in my nature to worry, to be tense, to be immobilized by my own anxiety and fear, to kick against the pricks. And I began to see that I must accept the pain for the sake of progress. That we are both here to grow. And that my anxiety not only did no good, it slowed us down. That I need to breathe, accept it, move forward. And then as I moved in my mind through the process to the end, I truly felt that together we might have a positive outcome. That maybe our time would not be eternally miserable as I had been imagining. I can't know when, but there will be a climax of joy, relief, contentment, happiness. I am sure of that now.

Certainly our lives are ups and downs; contraction and release. I can now see these phases of difficulties as contractions. And they will not last forever. There will be a release. Followed, most likely, by another contraction.


The job of Mother is labor. Not just the birthing process, but the living process. I will catch my breath on the release and I will accept the contractions. I will do my best to love and teach my children. And when I do not feel the love, I know if I pray for it sincerely, Heavenly Father will give it to me, consecrating my work as a labor of love.