When Are You Due?

I have written this post in my head a thousand times. It brings up so much anger and self loathing that I finally wanted to get it on paper (digitally of course) so it can get out of my head. In 2019 I was in the best shape of my life. At 26 I was working out each day, working a job that required physical stamina, along with coaching CrossFit classes on my days off. I pushed myself so that I could quite literally “keep up with the boys”. In January 2020 my world was shocked with seeing the word “pregnant” pop up on a pregnancy test. You see, in years past I tried for a baby but it did not happen. I assumed it was just not for me. I continued working out throughout the entire pregnancy and even coached a class the morning I gave birth. My postpartum journey consisted of pelvic floor physical therapy and learning how to move slowly back into the workout scene. Six months later little Josie surprised us yet again. We now joined the two under two club. Josie was a rockstar at nursing and I told myself I would nurse her until she was ready to stop. For two years I focused on keeping my supply up and put aside my fitness goals. In May 2023 I worked at a day school that took weekly field trips. One of those field trips was to the local aquatic center. I will never forget when an acquaintance swam up to me and asked when I was due. The conversation was immediately awkward when I told this person that I was not pregnant, just carrying baby weight still. Whatever confidence I had was shredded. I started buying shirts that were larger and refused to wear anything tight. I was working full time and needed to be home with the family when I wasn’t at work so going back to the gym was not the right fit for me at the moment. I found a treadmill and took that as my first step. I started with walking 30 minutes a day and eventually started to jog in intervals. I felt like I was starting to feel results from the added fitness routine so I started to pull old clothes out from the closet that I did not think I would wear again. It was the last month of school (first year teacher) when a staff member asked if I was having a boy or girl as I was walking through the lounge. Again, I was so caught off guard that I almost tripped. I told this person that I definitely was not pregnant and walked off before the painful conversation went any further. For the second time, whatever confidence I had gained was immediately gone. It’s no secret that it has been extremely difficult to get rid of this baby weight especially when my focus was on milk supply for 2 years. I usually use humor when dealing with situations such as this. I tried to laugh it off. I tried to forget it. I tried to not let it get to me. Yet, here we are. It did get to me. I could not laugh it off as much as I tried. I am educated in fitness enough to know that I do not want to look like a Victoria’s Secret model. At 5’ 2” that is not what I will ever look like. I just want to be able to wear whatever I want and not have to keep having these awkward AF conversations. I REALLY want people to mind their business and stop commenting on one’s appearance. But, it’s 2024 and clearly things will not change in those regards. So, I found a fellow mom that goes to the gym and we have agreed to be accountability buddies in our journey of getting strong. Yes, losing weight and toning will be a HUGE bonus but my goal is strength. I want my kids to see me focus on health and strength and not see me staring in the mirror with tears streaming. What kind of message does that send to them? That being “skinny” is what brings us happiness? I blame the early 2000s media and magazines for putting this image in our head. That you have to be skinny to be “pretty”. I am using this summer to take back my health and fitness. I am back to crossfitting and using my extra time to be sure to get in all my steps. I am focusing on lifting heavier, running further, and gaining all my strength back. I will beat that voice in my head. I will not look in the mirror and grab at the skin that expanded to make room for our babies. I will not pinch the part that jiggles when I run. I will focus on fueling my body with healthy choices, I will hit my water goal each day, and I will never let my babies see or hear me make a negative comment about my body. My fitness goals are to be able to carry my babies when they are tired, to chase them around the yard on a hot summer’s day, and to never sit on the sidelines because I don’t look “good” in a swimsuit. I will prove to the kids that being healthy and strong is the goal. 

They are always watching you.

Hey Mama, I See You.

Hey mama, I see you. I see you doing your very best for your child. I see you trying to get through a shopping trip to get the things you need. I see you and your family member trying to diffuse the situation. I see you walking out of the store carrying your shoeless child. I see your family member darting to the checkout line while you go to the parking lot. I see you doing a phenomenal job at staying calm in a stressful situation. I see you mama. Yesterday Jackson and I were at the store to kill some time and grab a couple things. Jackson had speech therapy first thing in the morning so I let him pick out something since he had a good appointment. We were finishing up our shopping and heading to the checkout lanes when I heard a familiar wail. It was a child who was upset about something a couple isles over. The family was standing in one of the main isles so we walked by them to continue our way to the checkout area. I gave the grandma an understanding smile as we walked past. It is not our spot to judge on the situation as we know nothing about the child and it’s NONE of our business. Jackson and I were standing in line waiting for our turn to checkout and the shouting got a little louder. I could hear the grumblings of the people around me. My own experiences started to flood my mind. There have been many times where I had to carry around a screaming child just so I could get what we needed from the store. Honestly, I still use curbside any chance I get so that I avoid a public tantrum. At this point, the family was within eyesight and it was obvious that the child was at the peak of his meltdown. His mom was holding the child as best she could as the wiggling and thrashing continued. Briefly looking I noticed the child was shoeless (IYKYK) and the mom was attempting a big hug which would help with deep pressure to give sensory input. Jackson’s head whipped around to look at where the sounds were coming from. He looked at me and with tears in my eyes I softly told him, “it’s okay baby, they are just having a hard time.” It’s not often that I become emotional like this. I wasn’t crying because I felt sorry for them. I was crying because I have been that mom before. I have football carried a shoeless Jackson out of many places. I have sat on the floor of HEB when waiting in line became too much for him. Just that morning I had to carry him into speech literally kicking (the shit out of my shins) and screaming. His speech therapist is located on the same floor as physical therapy so all of the patients waiting in the waiting room got a show and I could feel the judgment. I have worked SO HARD on ignoring and trying to not let their stares or whispering upset me but it is very difficult to ignore (as is the tantrum). By now the mom and child had made it outside and I finished up checking out. Another customer had the audacity to tell the employee “phew, that was a lot to listen to.” I went from feeling compassion for the family to seeing red because people can’t keep their mouths shut. I could feel the Will Smith “keep my wife’s name…” bubbling up in my throat. The employee took me by complete surprise by kindly saying, “they are in here often and sometimes the child has a hard time regulating himself.” I felt so seen by this comment. As a mother of a child who has sensory challenges I am very familiar with this language. Expressing emotions as an adult is challenging and to a child it is sometimes impossible in the moment to rationalize with your brain. I grabbed our bags and walked out of the store with tears streaming. If you are out and about and you hear a screaming child just remember it costs ZERO DOLLARS to be a kind person. It also costs ZERO DOLLARS for you to keep your judgmental comments to yourself. I promise you that we have tried begging and pleading with them to lower their volume, we have tried to reason with them, and we definitely wish they would stop crying too. They don’t need to be spanked, we don’t need to hear the “back in my day” comments, and we for damn sure don’t care what you would do if they were your kids. Just remember, we see you mama (or insert any other caregiver term). We see you doing all you can to help your child in a dysregulated moment. You are doing amazing things.

“I love you”

It’s no secret that Jackson communicates differently than most. There are times when J and I will look at each other in pure defeat as Jackson repeats his words over and over. If we cannot figure out the word then we ask Jackson to “show me” and sometimes he is able to take us to whatever he is wanting. When  “show me” doesn’t work we start the guessing game of “do you want this” which usually ends in frustration for all parties involved. One method of communication that has worked is sign language. We need to get better about being more consistent with using it so it becomes second nature for all of us. I recently showed him how to sign “I love you” and it’s one of my favorite signs thus far. Watching him making his pointer finger, pinky, and thumb do what they are supposed to do is so awesome. I think the thing I love most about sign language is it’s a deliberate way to communicate. It’s not something you just do accidentally or randomly. It takes him time to look at his hand to get the sign correct. This evening as I was walking on the treadmill he did something cute so I told him “I love you Bubba”. He then sat there, used his other hand to help make the “I love you” sign, and then showed it to me. If my heart could burst with happiness it would have. He has worked so hard this year with speech therapy and all of his hard work is starting to show. I am so thankful for his speech therapist, his teachers, and our family unit for helping him flourish. 

Excuse the blurry picture. I was trying to balance on the side of the treadmill and snap the picture🥴

Toddler Adventures

I have felt many emotions during my motherhood journey. The other day was the first time I have truly teared up for something that made my heart smile. If you know our journey then you know Jackson is in speech therapy and has a speech delay with receptive and expressive communication. This makes day to day life a little more challenging than “normal” (whatever that words means). We avoid places that require quiet kids, places that are not “Jackson proof”, and places that will make him feel uncomfortable. His communication to us is a mixture of words, sign language, and his own jargon (that includes what some would consider “whining”). We have learned to translate what he is communicating to us but it has taken time and lots of patience. A simple grocery run into HEB or Walmart can turn into a whole tantrum with minimal warning. I vividly remember one time standing in line for HEB’s pharmacy line and having to sit on the ground with Jackson as he was having a moment. The stares and glares from other customers were coming from all around as I calmly talked him through the situation. Honestly he was just voicing the frustration of having to wait in a long line. All of us adults probably felt like doing the same but it’s not socially acceptable for an adult to lay on the floor and cry because of a long line (we just do it internally). As Jackson’s mother I am hyper aware of his emotions and ready in an instant to defend his big emotions. While sitting on the grocery store floor I was waiting for the unsolicited advice from someone who probably told their own children, “I’ll give you a reason to cry”. Until you’ve been in this club you will not truly understand the intense emotions you feel as a parent. But, that’s a story for another day. Anyways, back to why I felt the need to start this post… my sister and her girlfriend came down for the holidays (yaaay!). They wanted to do something fun with the kids but our small town does not have many fun things to do with toddlers. We thought about the zoo or a museum but they are so far that the kids would melt before even getting there. I remembered a friend talking about a kid’s play place in a nearby city that was geared more towards younger children. I looked it up and we decided to give it a go. The next morning we set off on our adventure. We walked in the doors, took our shoes off, and within minutes Jackson was running to the nearest play area. I will never forget this moment. He turned and looked back at me with a huge smile and said byyyeeee with the cutest wave. Off he went! That kid played HARD for 2 hours without stopping. The place gave off Discovery Zone vibes but on a smaller scale, or am I just bigger so it seems smaller? Ellie, Ashley, and I took turns watching Jackson make his way through the levels of the play area while trying to coax Josie to do some of her own exploring. Josie spent most of her time in the giant ball pit living her best life saying “ready, set, go” and falling into the balls. There were multiple times where I found a sitting spot and just watched my son play. He was having the time of his life and didn’t have to be shhh’ed, told to be careful, or to stop running. I hated the fact that we had to eventually leave but us adults were exhausted and starving. I promised him that we would be back and I will uphold my promise. We had a successful lunch at Willie’s where the kids ate their WHOLE meal. We then braved one more stop at Target to get some last minute Christmas gifts. Jackson convinced the aunts that he needed a Wall-E toy that he proceeded to push the button on for the whole ride home. Seeing him get to be himself with no judgment was everything that my mama heart needed. That kid is going to do great things in life and I am so thankful that I get to be his mama. I am thankful that his grandparents and aunts have been right by our sides for this journey. Us adults work daily to untrain our brain from “old school” parenting tactics and advice that traumatized the previous generations. I am thankful for my husband who’s patience outshines mine daily. He always knows when it’s time for me to “tap out” and go take a breath. Our children are so lucky to have him as their dada. Our life might be different than society expects but I wouldn’t want it any other way. Though Jackson tests every bit of patience that I DON’T have, he has taught me so much about life. Being his mom has taught me that it’s okay to be loud and get excited over the little things. Being his mom has taught me to speak up when things are not okay. Being his voice has made mine stronger and I will use it if I have to. I will never let anyone dull that kid’s sparkle.

Our Ever Changing Life Update

The only thing that stays the same is everything changes. I just have to laugh sometimes at our crazy story. J had a one year post-op appointment and got the “all clear” from his doctor. Within a week my husband had reached out to his old capitan and was hired back as an EMT. He’s currently on his 3rd shift back into this crazy lifestyle. This means for 2 days each week I’m back to single parenting the kids and maintaining the household. I still count my lucky stars that my parents are across the street and able to help with the kiddos. When it’s just the 3 of us we enjoy dinner wherever the kids will sit and the kids play on the shower floor while I rinse off. The kids have a blast FaceTiming dada and think it’s so cool when he turns his face into a dinosaur. I’ve had a major twist in my career as well. I was recently approached by my former principal about an opportunity to be a teacher at a local elementary school. It was with a heavy heart that I let my current coworkers know that I won’t be coming back. We had formed a tight bond and over my short time with them we have held each other during hard times and celebrated successes together. If I could have my cake and eat it too I’d stay. I love those people with all my heart. But, unfortunately I can’t pay bills with love. I am excited and nervous for my new endeavor in the public school system. I get the chance to work with friends that I’ve known for 10 years and FINALLY get to be on the same schedule as them. Also getting the chance to work for my first principal is awesome! He was a great principal when I was in elementary and I have deep core memories that I still tell to this day. J and I were talking just last night about how we finally feel like this is the “good part” the accident and rehab is behind us, the financial strain can finally subside, and the kids are thriving. It feels like we can finally take a breath and actually enjoy life instead of feeling like the rug is going to be ripped at any moment.

With this new adventure comes a new school theme and “an empty canvas” classroom. If you are able to help with my wishlist I would greatly appreciate it and I know the kids will too! My main goal is to make a difference in each student’s life and push them to be the best version of themselves that they can be. I hope my family’s story shows them that you can conquer anything with love and perseverance.

https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/K83L2EEOTNRR?ref_=wl_share

Speech Delays and Toddler Days

The love Jackson shows towards Josie is indescribable.

Jackson is a few months away from his third birthday. I’m not really sure where the time went! It seems just like yesterday J and I were sitting at Yumms joking that we were eating our last meal as just the 2 of us. Later that evening I went into labor and the rest is history. I would be lying if I said his newborn days were easier than these toddler days. He was a nap fighting, bottle throwing, SICK 24/7 baby. I’m so thankful we lived within walking distance to my parents house because there were plenty of times I would walk over with both of us in tears. There is probably enough postpartum fog to write an entire novel so I’ll save that for another day. 

This one is about the question I get asked the most. Is Jackson still not talking? That’s a good way to make me bite my tongue and hope that nice words form. Yes, he is talking. Is it what society considers talking? No. We communicate in multiple ways with Jackson. He “talks” all the time, we just aren’t able to understand his words. We have used context clues to decipher  words and phrases that he commonly uses. And just recently he has started repeating our words! I absolutely love hearing his tiny voice copy me. It’s also extremely interesting to see Jackson and Josie interact. They communicate in their own ways and it’s fascinating. As I’m sitting on the couch writing this I watched Jackson walk over to Josie, bend down, and in a soft baby voice babble something that sounded like “come here, come on” and Josie followed him to his room. Maybe babies really do have their own language. Jackson also is learning sign language along with speaking. Thankfully my family learned sign language years ago to communicate with my autistic cousin. It came in handy (no pun intended) with Jackson! From a very early age we started signing while we talked to him so by 9-10ish months he knew how to sign “more”. Now he knows close to 15-20 signs for his day to day tasks and things he wants/uses. We have been working with an ECI speech therapist and Early Childhood Interventionist for almost a full year. When he was evaluated he was at a 16 month level for speech and I can’t remember what he was for gross motor (he was 24 months at the time). The first speech report I got literally broke me. I think I cried each day for a full week. In the report the speech therapist has described Jackson’s behavior and interactions with his peers and teachers. She had stated that his tantrums were frequent, that he was inconsolable and he was a shoe kicker (not how she worded it). Having worked with older toddlers I knew exactly what she was describing. That’s why my heart broke so much. My child, who is unable to talk, was so frustrated that it was causing him to explode. He couldn’t tell his teachers what was bothering him, he couldn’t tell his friends he needed a minute, and he couldn’t tell us what he needed. Thankfully his other ECI therapist called me and assured me Jackson was okay. She assured me that they were going to help him, and us, figure this out. I reached out on social media and I had a few moms reach out. One in particular calmed my worries. She and a son who was also speech delayed so she knew exactly what to say without coming off as judgmental. She sent me videos and reports from their own journey and also sent me questions to ask Jackson’s therapist. Jackson’s teachers have been amazing through this process too. They have learned signs that he knows and help him work through his big emotions. A couple  of the hardest things as a mom with a delayed child is the judgment from others and comparing. I’ve been guilty of this before I had kids so I know I’m not the only one. Imagine, you’re in the grocery store and you see a toddler shopping with their mom. All of a sudden the kid reaches for something and the mom stops, hands it to them, and they throw it to the ground screaming. Your first thought is probably something along the lines of “that kid needs to be disciplined” or “could he scream any louder”. What you don’t see is a mother trying to see what item the child was pointing to and clearly got it wrong. With Jackson it’s a lot of “wrong answers” and he tells us in his own way that usually includes some sort of shriek. Now that he’s older I ask for him to show me that way we can avoid offensive side-eyes from the public. It’s also interesting to see people’s reactions to his tantrums. You can tell the ones who have a “tough” kid or the ones who have never had kids by the looks you catch in public. When he’s having a fit I’ve learned being soft spoken and getting down on his level helps lessen the severity. In the past I said the typical “there is no reason to cry” or “you’re fine, now stop” and all that does is send him further into a fit. Some would scoff and tell me that back in their day their mom (or dad) would have given them a reason to cry or their parents would have spanked them and sent them to their room. I’ve swatted Jackson on the behind before and it did nothing but make me feel like shit and made him look at me with so much hurt. I’ve been doing lots of reading, researching, and talking with professionals on how to navigate toddler life with Jackson. With the help of his speech therapists we have learned ways to help us communicate with each other such as making picture cards at home for foods, toys, and other common things he might want. I verbally describe every action so he can listen to my thoughts. We watch lots of animal documentaries and TONS of Ms. Rachel. This journey has taught all of us a lot. I have learned to be (a little more) patient, empathy for other parents with tough kids, and comparison is the thief of joy. I have friends with kids Jackson’s age and seeing them run around talking up a storm is a stab to the gut. In the beginning I would be guilty about comparing Jackson’s journey to theirs and that’s just not fair to any of us. Not anymore, we are on our own journey and creating our own path. I am so excited for Jackson’s therapy to continue and see what great strides he can make. We have a transition meeting with his ECI therapist and the school district so at 3 he has a smooth transition. Everyone always tells me that once he starts talking he will never stop, and I’m okay with that. If I ever feel the urge to tell him to stop talking then I’ll come back and read this post. For now we will celebrate our “wins” of new words and continue to learn new ways to help our Baby Jack Jack express himself. 

P.S. if you haven’t seen Incredibles 2 then you probably won’t get the Jack Jack reference lol. But, our Jackson has the same fiery personality as that character.

“Where are you”

One Year

Wow. Life happened and I now realize it has been a hot minute since I have posted anything. We are officially ONE YEAR post accident. Life looks much different than it did before. There are times we catch ourselves talking about “old times” (pre-accident), during (the recovery process), and post accident. Our life will always be post accident. We have survived something that could have broken us. J survived an accident that, if we are being honest, he should have not survived. I am a believer that everything happens for a reason. I am still doing lots of soul searching as to why he had to endure such a traumatic accident. There are days that I find myself reminded of those early hospital days. The long drives to the hospital with a screaming newborn, pulling over at gas stations to nurse her back to sleep, and the gut-wrenching feeling of having to leave the hospital bed and go home. Now we have settled back into a routine of raising babies and trying to not lose our marbles when the toys get dumped right after cleaning. Jackson’s 3rd birthday will be here after summer and I am not ready to accept that. Josie is a romping stomping toddler and chases her brother everywhere. We watch Bluey on repeat and keep the freezer stocked with dinosaur nuggets. Did you know it was possible to taste the difference between a “dino nuggie” and a regular chicken nugget? Jackson can sniff out those differences and then the dogs conspire with him to get the rejects. In the Fall of 2022 I started working at a private day school. If you know me then you know how shocked I am as well. I NEVER would have pictured myself being in education, but here I am. Motherhood has changed me in more ways than one and it has opened my eyes that we need people who care in education. I started in the 3-4 year old classroom while their aide was out on maternity leave. I enjoyed being with those little ones. Each day was an adventure filled with laughter, exploring, so many questions, and watching their little brain grow. There were times of explosive emotions but thanks to my own little bottle rocket I was able to help them through their emotions. In January of this year I moved upstairs to the elementary grades and now I am the 5/6th math/science teacher’s assistant. I also am the lead teacher for the STEM program and see kindergarten through sixth grade throughout the week. STEM has been so fun and the kids love the activities I have picked throughout the year. One of the perks of seeing all the grades is getting to know all the students. I never knew it was possible to learn so many names and actually remember them! Hearing them yell “Mrs. Fritz” from the playground as I walk in each morning makes my day 100x better, especially on those rough drop off mornings. I am also working on getting my alternative certification to become a teacher. I found a program in Texas that allows those with bachelors degrees to take the certification test, turn in observation hours, and get the final sign off from administration and BOOM, you are a teacher! I am so excited for this journey and already have a whole Pinterest board for how my classroom will look. J’s recovery journey is not over yet but he is finally out of the “danger zone”. He underwent 10 surgeries, multiple admissions into the hospital, and endured months of painful physical therapy appointments. His determination and tenacity are what got him through everything. I had the opportunity to go to every PT appointment and watch him go from wheelchair bound to driving away from his final appointment was the most inspiring journey. He too had also had a career change. I think one of the hardest decisions he had to make during this journey was to leave EMS. The pain and soreness is constant and we both know that you have to be at your 100% while on duty. As a rough, gruff, and tough dad I think that was a hard hit. But, as a wife I now know he is home safe and sound. He has been helping our friends (who are also our neighbors) with property management for their multi-cabin bed and breakfast. The best thing in my opinion is he is home every day and gets to be dad. He is there to open the gate when the kids and I get home from school, he rolls up his sleeves and tackles the evening routine with two toddlers, and holds my hand when our youngest is attempting to have a contest of who can stay awake the longest. He was also able to join (along with my dad) a group called Irreverent Warriors. It’s a group for active and retired military members who hike to raise awareness for suicide. I’ve seen so many great things come from this organization and the friends that have been made. I still don’t understand why the accident happened and we may never know the “why”. Our lives will never go back to the way it was before but, I’m okay with that. This new life that we have built is solid. We stayed true to our vows of “for better, for worse… in sickness and in health”. We love harder, forgive faster, and cherish the life we have built together. I went back and read my “One Month” update before writing this and I wish I could go back in time and tell myself, everything will be okay. Those trenches were deep and lonely. If it wasn’t for our family and close friends I’m not sure how I would have managed. My sister flew down multiple times and rolled up her sleeves and helped with the kids and managing the house. My gym family asked daily how J was doing and how the kids were. They helped me find the humor in the “mom trenches” and hearing their stories helped me feel less alone. My parents were (and still are) a constant throughout the entire journey and we are so thankful. From cooking, cleaning, watching the kids, all the way to bringing their own dirt over to help with water diversion. I always joke that I’m going to have to set them up with a bougie retirement home after all they’ve done for us. Remember to kiss your spouse, tell your kids you love them, prune your dead leaves, and know that you WILL get through your hardest days.

Madhouse Mornings

I hate weekday mornings. Even on the days that I go in late they suck. I wake up about an hour before the kids. The dogs get let out first and then I fix my cup of coffee, do my makeup, and get dressed. My goal is to do all of this BEFORE the kids are up. Mornings are hard for the hubby. His muscles and bones hurt and they take time to warm up before he can stand without being in excruciating discomfort. When he hears Jackson’s door open he turns on one of the morning movies or Bluey. Jackson drinks his morning bottle and soaks up the dad snuggles. Josie is usually already in the bed since her early morning nurse is around 4. By now my cup of coffee is half gone and cold. I’ll go top it off with some fresh coffee and join the bed crew. I will sit and enjoy the coffee and snuggles for a little bit before my feet hit the floor again. This is where time hits hyper speed. I’m not sure where these minutes go but I’m convinced I’m walking through knee high mud. We tag team getting the kids dressed and now the race is on. I start the car and load Josie first. I pop her pacifier in and kiss her forehead. When I walk in the door I cross my fingers that Jackson hasn’t left me a morning diaper surprise and chase him around the island before catching him. I get him loaded up and give him his morning snack and his juice (watered down propel) and turn on Noodle Loaf. Side note – Noodle Load is an adorable podcast for little ones. Now I go back inside and grab all the stuff I forgot with my 3 trips to the car. I kiss the hubby and out the door I go again. I never take into the opening and shutting of the gate so 90% of the time I’m pulling out of the driveway like Cruella Deville in 101 Dalmatians. I set my cruise because no one has time to get pulled over when we are already running behind. I drop Bubbies off at school, kid his forehead, and dash for the door before I can hear his cries. Then sister and I race to the gym to coach. Jackson’s new school is a bit further away and there are several schools between there and the gym. I have yet to find a route that isn’t packed with school traffic. My ONLY saving Grace each coaching morning is class has an unofficial start time at 8:05 so all the mamas have time to drop the kiddos off and drive reasonably to the gym. Every morning I am disappointed in myself. I replay the rat race within the last 20 minutes of the morning and think to myself… I yelled too much, I got mad at the dogs for being under my feet, my husband is staring at me like I’m insane, and my coffee is still sitting in the microwave. Each day I try to do it differently. I’ve laid clothes out, I’ve packed the car the night before, and countless other tricks. Nothing works to get us out the door early and barely on time. I have flashbacks from my childhood and just feel so bad for my mom. I was a brat in the morning (some might say that hasn’t changed). I can only think to myself that this is the universe giving me what I gave her.  If you see a person with kids in their car in the morning please be kind. You don’t know how many times they had to change their clothes, cut toast squares, or how many battles were lost before getting in the car. Smile and nod and just know that if they seem frazzled they probably are but it has nothing to do with you. 

The flip side to all of this. I love weekend mornings! Jackson is in a cinnamon roll phase so I start a fresh batch when I wake up and start my coffee. We all 7 (4 humans and 3 puppers) all pile up in bed and watch movies. About 10ish Jackson has had enough and we migrate to the living room or outside until lunch time. It’s chicken nugget time!! Then nap for the Bubs and then we pile up in bed again until he gets up. We usually spend the afternoons outside and then I start on dinner. Then we do it all again on Sunday ♥️

The Loneliest Hood

Motherhood is the loneliest hood I’ve ever been through (so far). When you first announce your pregnancy every one is so excited and the energy is overflowing. You are showered with gifts and your friends are so excited to be an Aunt to your child. Gender reveals, baby showers, and sprinkle parties mean you’re surrounded by people and the buzz of excitement. When you post pictures of your little bundle of joy your phone can’t keep up with the messages and notifications. The first few weeks of being home are filled with visitors and casseroles and then the newness fades. Life doesn’t stop just because a new baby is born. Family and friends go on with their lives. This is when it starts to get lonely. My husband went back to work when our youngest was 10 days old. 10 days postpartum and I was now responsible for our toddler AND a newborn. What the actual F?! My husband is an EMT so he is at the station for 2 days (48 hours gone from the house) and home for 4 days. Jackson had just started walking right before Josie was born so that made things considerably easier. But, a nursing newborn meant that there were times when I was tied to the couch or rocker. We are extremely lucky that my parents live across the street. When J was on shift my mom would come over and help with the evening routine and often bring dinner ready to go. She would hold the baby and keep Jackson occupied while I scarfed dinner down or took PTB shower. Even with our daily visits I couldn’t help but feel the loneliness creep in. How is that even possible!? I’m literally surrounded by people 24/7 and somehow I just feel lonely. Watching my friends through social media posts still getting together, having play dates with their kiddos or even having a girls night dinner hits the gut each time. Would I be able to go if they had invited me? Maybe not, but not being invited at all is what stings the most. I am sure they know that leaving the house is a challenge for me. With 2 kiddos 2 and under and a husband who sustained life altering injuries it can be hard to leave the house alone. But by golly I sure would have tried! Sometimes I just need some girl time or a glass of wine with friends. I have many “hats” I wear throughout the day. I have my mom hat, my wife hat, coaching, employee, nurse, chauffeur, and cook. I am sure I am missing some but those are the ones that I can think of off the top of my head. As a mom my world revolves around nap times, nursing, and bedtimes. The company I work for is cell-phone based so I take work with me everywhere which has been the biggest help so I can go with the hubby to his appointments and be there at the house to help. Our lives are busy, from sun up to sun down it is carting the kids to and from school, working in between, and then once we get home it is outside time, dinner, bath, then bedtime. Even with all these things jam packed into the daylight hours I never imagined motherhood to feel so secluded. I pictured fun park play dates, weekends filled with us best friends sharing some mom beverages while the kids played in the sprinklers, and day trips to the winery. The hubby can only take so much girl gossip before he starts trying to give advice when I just want to vent (LOL). I have to tell him to let me just vent and cry. I try venting to my mom but she is going to do the mom thing where she remembers how hurt I was and never lets that go even when I was just venting and the other party doesn’t even know I was upset. Everywhere you look you see moms on social media talking about “their tribe”. The tribe I thought had faded. With all of our life events my daily routine can be summed up into dropping Jackson off, going to work, picking Jackson up from daycare, and then going home. On the weekends we stay home since it takes an hour to pack both kids up and leave the house. I know this is my own doing but it is exhausting and sometimes even just the thought of leaving the house exhausts me. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t suck it up and give the kids some fruit snacks for the drive. As a mom I just want to be included.. I miss my friends, I miss laughing, and at times I miss the days where I could leave the house in 15 minutes. And here it comes, the mom shaming. Yes, I love my kids. I would willingly throw myself in front of moving traffic just to save them but that doesn’t mean I am allowed to miss the life I had before. No one tells you when you are handed the bundle of joy in the hospital that life will NEVER “go back to the way it was”. Your Facebook memories will pop up each day and remind you of the life you once had. I look back each day and just chuckle. We just thought we were busy back then. Let’s all laugh together! If you made it this far in the post I hope you know that this is a personal blog for a reason. These are my personal feelings and emotions but I hope that it lets you know that you are not alone if you feel this way. If you know me personally and want to hang out PLEASE reach out! I would love the opportunity to be there for my fellow moms that are in the trenches. Life with young kids is tough and once you graduate to the next level of motherhood you sometimes forget how draining these days are. We were not made to navigate these trials and tribulations alone. Humans are pack animals by nature so when we feel excluded and alone of course we are going to wallow in sadness (and I lather that shit all over). We feel like a burden when reaching out so slowly yet surely we stop texting and messaging until we slowly just fade out of the circle completely. My challenge to you is to swallow the pride and reach out. Be the one to set the date and then GO! Show up and tell your friends you miss them. If they truly love you then it will be like no time passed at all. If you find yourself being the only one then take that as your exit strategy and find a new tribe. There are moms all over that need to find their people and they are waiting for YOU! I love all of you and hope that you all find people that make you smile from the inside out.

One Month.

31 days. 744 hours. 44,640 minutes. May 16, 2022 somewhere around 1400ish I got the phone call. The call that would change our lives forever. Oddly enough, this is the second phone call I’ve received that would be so surreal that I almost felt like I was having a nightmare. If I could take that morning back I would. I was rushing around that morning. I woke up late and was taking my stress out on J and the kids. I remember kissing J on the forehead then stormed out of the house. That was our last encounter. My day went on as usual, dropped Jackson off at school, went to coach, and then started diving into that day’s worth of bids and phone calls. I worked out at lunch and then went for a walk with little Josie aftweards. I remember seeing a black cat and rushing past it so it would not cross my path. I always joke that I’m not superstitious but just a little stitious. I had just settled back into work and then I saw my dad’s name pop up. My stomach hit the floor and I immediately knew. I answered and he told me that J had been in an accident and that he would send me the address to the hospital so I could come up there. I asked all the necessary questions and learned that he was conscious but it was serious. The worst part of getting the phone call was I couldn’t leave right away. I had to feed Josie and go get Jackson from school. Once we were finally on the road I realized how slow time could be. The 2 hour drive seemed like it took an eternity. Once arriving at the hospital I was met by both my mom and dad. Apparently my dad had called my mom to come too (thank goodness). They wrestled our tiny little human in the waiting room while I was taken back to see J. My dad warned me that his legs were broken and they were going to look “weird”. Having been in EMS I had seen my fair share of traumas. Seeing my husband as the patient was something I never thought I’d have to do, or want to do. My dad was right. J’s legs looked extremely “weird”. I was so relieved to walk around that corner and see him propped up and talking. I didn’t even care what the leg situation was at the time. As long as I knew he was awake and talking I was relieved beyond measure. I was greeted by a whole staff of nurses and doctors and started learning about all of the injuries he had sustained. He had bilateral tibia and fibula fractures, a broken wrist, and a brain bleed. He also had some abbraisions to his torso that were caused by the friction from his jacket during his sliding. The left leg also had compartment syndrome so that was a pressing issue. I sat there by his side while he was in the ER sick to my stomach. So many thoughts racing through my head. How am I going to be there for my husband and be there for our kids? No one ever tells you that there might be a day where you are faced with a choice of caring for your kids or caring for your spouse. And I hope you are never in that situation. When you say your wedding vows and you get to the part of “in sickness and in health” you imagine the flu, the man cold, or maybe your mind wanders to the C word. Never in a million years would I have imagined that this would be our sickness or in health. The nurses worked on stabilizing his legs and got him prepped to go to a room. We knew he would be having surgery but we did not have any details. I went back to the waiting room and updated my parents and we decided that they would take Jackson home and I would stay with J until we got some more answers. I followed J up to the 6th floor with little Miss Joise asleep in my carrier. I asked the nurses if Josie was going to be an issue and they reassured me that she would not be a bother. We learned that he was scheduled for surgery the next day at 0630. I listened to all that was going on and let the staff do their job. He was in the IMC department so they could monitor his brain bleed and monitor the legs. They got him cleaned up and started to address his pain. I started to get packed up so I could go home and get Jackson set up for the next few days. The next morning I took Jackson to school and then started heading back to the hospital. J was already in recovery by the time I got to the hospital. His family was there in the waiting room, I was not fully prepared to see J in that state. They put external braces on his legs so there were rods and pins everywhere. They also had to do a fasciotomy on his left leg to relieve the compartment syndrome. There was a wound vac on the fasciotomy to help pull out the fluid trapped in his leg. The doctor advised me that this was the first of many surgeries that we should expect to go through. Holy smokes. My mind just went to mush. The thought that he was going to have to go under multiple times made my anxiety shoot through the roof. I went out to the waiting room and traded off with one of his family members. He was only allowed 2 people in the room so we would trade off. That day I was made aware that day that Josie was not allowed past the waiting room on the 6th floor due to it being an ICU floor. I broke down in the middle of the hallway crying like a fool because I was then faced with yet again another choice. Because I chose to nurse our daughter I wasn’t able to leave her for long. I do not have a freezer stash and she hasn’t taken a bottle since a week old. I begged them to try and make an exception. I explained that we lived 2 hours away and that she was nursing and my family was back home caring for our oldest son. They made some phone calls but sadly due to hospital policies there was no budging. I started having to spend more time in Brenham since all I was allowed to do was sit in the waiting room. I cannot put into words the feelings I was feeling (and still do) that my husband was laying in a hospital bed alone and there was nothing I could do about it. Unless I switched our daughter to formula. But thanks to the current country’s situation there was a formula shortage. I tried pumping milk to build up a stash but I don’t know if it was stress or just my body not being used to it I couldn’t get much. Not to mention, adding one more task to my plate would just be insane. I scheduled trips up to see J when I had someone available to tag along to sit in the waiting room with Josie. One of J’s shift captains met me there and sat with her, my dad came for a day, my mom went, and his dad even watched her after one of his surgeries. He was in the hospital for 18 days. 18 long days. J came home and we got him settled.He is wheelchair bound and had to keep the left leg elevated due to having a skin graft where the fasciotomy was performed. I jumped right into getting his medication schedule written out and getting things organized to help get him around the house. Thanks to my dad and Uncle D for tirelessly working on the wheelchair ramp getting J in and out of the house was flawless. Inside the house was a bit more challenging. The bed was too high, the doors too small, and those are just the things I can remember. My dad came over and built a platform with a ramp to make it easier to transition from the bed to the wheelchair. We took each task and analyzed it to see if there were things that could be done to make this new life easier. I was doing J’s bandage changes for the skin graft site. We had to Amazon 1-day ship everything and even had to reach out to family for some supplies since the hospital only sent us home with supplies for 1 day. I changed gloves so many times so I could keep the wound clean. We settled into a routine but on Sunday J started to become feverish and started to show signs of sepsis. We called EMS who came out to evaluate him. They confirmed our suspicions and I helped get him on the stretcher and watched them load him in the back. He spent 4 days in the hospital while they tried to get control on the infection. Within this time Jackson had been diagnosed with post streptococcal pneumonia. With the help of my mom we kept him home so we could monitor his wheezing. I felt so bad for Jackson. We had just gotten over having the stomach virus mixed with E. coli AND strep. When J was discharged my sister and I loaded up and headed to Round Rock. We got him in the car, got him some Torchy’s Tacos, and headed home. We settled back into our little routine. We worked hard over the weekend to find ways where he could move around throughout the house alone while I was at work during the week. Monday I went back to work and it was a relatively normal day. My dad went over and had lunch with J and then a few hours later I came home to start the evening routine. After the kids were down I checked on J and he became feverish again. I immediately began messaging my aunt who is an RN for a local hospital and after I told her everything that was going on we decided it was best for him to be evaluated again. Gigi came over to be here with Jackson and J and I started making our way to Bellville. Due to them having Covid patients Josie and I waited in the waiting room while they took J back. The nurse came out and told me that he was still septic and they were going to keep him and transfer him back to Round Rock as soon as possible. I made it back home around midnight and tossed and turned all night. The next day I went to work, got all my stuff done as soon as possible and then headed to Bellville to see him before he got transferred out. Josie and I visited with him for a couple hours and then back to Brenham I went to get Bubs from school. He’s been at St. David’s in Round Rock since Tuesday night and they have been phenomenal. He had another surgery (4th) to go in the left leg and clean out the infectious fluid. He’s been there resting and recovering. We miss him more than I’ll ever be able to put into words. I know that this is only the beginning of a long road to recovery for him. One thing I know is that I will be there by his side through all of this. Whether that’s being at the hospital or here at home taking care of the house and kids. Everyone keeps saying how strong I am, how resilient, how amazing. But I feel like none of those things. The only way one could truly know how we are feeling is if you’ve been through this or are down here in the trenches with us. And if one more person tells me “it could have been worse” I might just combust. Of course it could have been worse. We 100% have recognized that. But, this is our for better or worse. This is the worst traumatic event we have been through in our life. Telling me to be thankful for it not being worse does not lessen what we are going through. It honestly just irritates the piss out of me. My husband, the father of my children, and my best friend is going through the hardest accident and recovery without anyone by his side at the hospital. If only I could clone myself so I could be in 2 places at one time. We FaceTime throughout the day and he calls to blow kisses to Jackson and Josie before bed. I am so thankful for the Bellville Medical Center staff and St. David’s staff for taking such great care of him. I am so thankful for my parents and sister for being here day in and day out to help with the kids and Josie. I am thankful for the family and friends who have turned into family that have stepped up. I am beyond thankful for J’s work family who have come over and checked on us and for checking in on J when they know he’s not at home. We are so thankful for all that have donated to the GoFundMe or given grocery cards. I am thankful for the family and friends who have brought meals. We will never be able to fully thank everyone and I know that there will be so many more reasons to thank everyone as the journey continues.