Busy. Busy. Like Busy.

We've been busy. I'm sure if I said it was a good-type of busy John would strongly disagree with that assumption but I find that I thrive when our schedule is a bit chaotic and the days seem to fleet by in an instance. I guess our lives are taking one of those dramatic turns that happens occasionally. You know the kind, where you're just puddling along and all of the sudden there are a million and one changes happening simultaneously. Yes, that's where we're at in life. 

And we're playing T-Ball, which has been a little nerve racking. Albeit, it has been wildly entertaining to watch a passel of small four and five-year-olds bee line it to third base only to realize that they were going the wrong direction. My poor boy has the genetics of his mother and was bred for the warmth of Arizona so a majority of the pictures taken have been those moments of desperation where he thinks his toes and fingers are going to fall off. But cold weather or not we have braved the fields every Saturday and I find that the far off dream of childhood sports is now upon us in full swing and I couldn't be more delighted.

We're also building a home. Yes, a bonafide-no-longer-rental-of-a-home-with-hardwood-and-granite- and-absolutely-under-no-circumstances-will-there-be-carpet-in-the-dining-room kind-of-home. I'm sure you've gathered by now that all the hyphens are to show my utmost disdain for carpet, especially in areas of eating. For two years we've lived in a rental and I feel like a small part of me died when we moved it, many boxes have still remained packaged up, and making memories in a place that has never felt like our own has always been a bit unsettling. The thought of once again having our own home is not only my saving grace right now but it also means I get to start decorating again and I love to decorate. Ask John, he'll roll his eyes...

I would say our level of busy is currently under the somewhat sane tinkering on the edge of crazy stage. We decided long ago to general our own house this go around and so far the work has been tremendously hard, I should clarify that it has been hard John, I just do as I am told and follow orders. It's been so hard in fact that I have made a household rule that the last few minutes of the day have to involve talking about anything other than tile/flooring/carpet/hardwood/porches/decks/light fixtures...just so I can go to sleep without dreaming about our home.

 I'm excited to share the journey with all of you and I'm exciting for all the little details I get to plan and I'm so eeeking (it's not a word, I know) to finally be able to decorate the babes' room with all the items I've collected over the past few years. 

Days to ground breaking: 12 and counting...

Bullying

At some point during this crazy journey called parenting I knew I would have to address the issue of bullying with my children. I didn't however imagine that it would be an issue that I would have to address with my three-year-old child. You can imagine my surprise when it happened in it's most natural form at the park yesterday evening. The park was bustling with parents watching their children play league coach pitch while the children crowded around the playground equipment like lemmings itching to go down the slide. Brecken was in his element--running amok and befriending everyone in site. He was really quite the spectacle to watch, laughing and giggling, holding hands with complete strangers, calling everyone friend. At one point, a boy a few years older than him honed in on Brecken's charismatic energy and slowly began to test his boundaries with my son--a push here, a jab there, which then led into full blown shoves all the while calling him names and growing thirsty for the tears to appear in my little boy's eyes. 

After each attempt to fluster my son, Brecken would pick himself up and continue playing. Bless his heart, he was oblivious to the notion that anyone could ever truly be mean to him for no apparent reason, so he kept playing as if the jabs, pokes, and pinches were in some way a game. I was taken aback by the situation and every God-given motherly instinct in my body was on fire and near the cusp of boiling over into a full-blown mother bear frenzy. My heart was aching and I struggled to know when it would be appropriate for me to step in and take control of the situation. Do I jump in and defend my little boy? Do I let him fend for himself and learn about the hard knocks of life? Do I go all crazy-like on the other kid? Do I find his Mother and point out her inadequacy on raising a polite boy? (I'm sure she would have been mortified to say the least).

Once curbing in my own emotions I decided that if tears didn't appear I would let Brecken fight his own battle. Nothing about the experience was easy and it was one of those times where I wish I had a user's manual with step-by-step directions on how to approach the situation. In the end the boy grew bored with Brecken's friendliness and I imagine he was annoyed that he couldn't dampen his spirit so he moved on.

The feeling of inadequacy as a parent was very prevalent during the experience. Knowing that I couldn't intervene and allowing my child to get hurt to only understand that he was strong enough to defend himself was a hard concept to swallow for this Momma. At that moment I felt like I should have prepared him more for situations such as these and by not doing so I wasn't doing justice as a parent. Despite everything that happened I learn a valuable lesson that day--no matter where I may fall short as a parent he has learned (hopefully from John and I) to pick himself and keep moving no matter what obstacle may stand in his way. His true nature permeated the playground that day, bringing in light and laughter and not letting the vindictiveness of another individual dampen his glow.

Now let's all pray I don't run into his Mom on a bad day...

I'm an Expert: Potty Training

Guys, this is a post about potty training. Enthralling, yes? It's a dirty job, painful to say the least and when it comes down to it, it's a vicious mind game plotting fairly sane grown-ups against equally brash toddlers. Okay, I'm being a bit dramatic, but really, it's no easy feat.

Last November during a particularly dark blizzard that forced us to hunker in for the long haul we decided to potty train Brecken. The signs had been evident for a few months--crying before peeing in his diaper, bringing diapers to me when he wanted to be changed, and hiding in the basement to poo. I knew he was ready and it was my own fears that held us back. The diaper was convenient, almost like a crutch, especially with our chaotic schedule which kept us on the-go quite frequently, it just seemed so much easier to keep him in a diaper. My sister-in-law suggested a three day method which worked with her five children, so I accepted the challenge--I mean if she can do I should be able to as well, right?

No.

 I later morphed to six days because it just seemed to fit my kid best. Here's the breakdown...

Day one and two//In order for this method to work all distractions needed to be removed i.e. television, phones, ipads, this made it easier for me to recognize Brecken's cues and get him to the toilet before having an accident. It also meant staying in the bathroom for four complete days. 

The first two days Brecken sat on the toilet completely naked for  the entire day. Let me say that again, thee enntire dayyy. He would sit on the toilet while I would read stories and sing songs. The first few times peeing in the toilet were alarming for him. He would try to stop himself but with some positive reinforcement he would keeping going. To really knock home the idea of peeing in the toilet I tried to find different types of sensory prizes--clapping, cheering, sticker chart, and treats. To make sure he was peeing frequently he was given lots of sugary drinks and salty foods, not his usual diet but an exception was made for the sake of kicking the diaper.  

It worked so well in fact that getting him off the toilet was somewhat difficult, go figure.

Day three and four//Once I began to notice his cues: prancing around and crossing his legs I knew when he needed to use the potty. So on day three I began to let him wear underwear. We still spent all our time in the bathroom, but I let him sit on the floor and look at books. Every thirty minutes or so I would sit him on the toilet and tell him to pee, sometimes he would pee right away at other times he would sit there for two hours #killme. And because I know someone will ask, yes, he did have an accident in his underwear but after peeing in it once he realized how uncomfortable it felt and it rarely ever happened again.

So to recap: Noticed cue, placed him on toilet, let him pee, reward him for a job well done. simple.as.that.

By the fourth day, he was beginning to recognize his own cues and would run to the toilet. He still needed help pulling down his underwear, but we successfully made it the entire day without an accident. On Day Four he finally pooped in the toilet as well.

Sorry guys. But I have to talk about poop. so don't unfollow me just yet. As my SIL suspected sometimes kids get nervous and don't want to poop and like us they would prefer to do it privately.  so when he finally went by himself I left the bathroom, which made the process easier (I hope) for him.

Day five and six//By the fifth day we were physically pooped (ha!). Brecken was allowed to wear clothes and leave the bathroom, but wasn't allowed to leave the house. I would let him play, but again I would make him go sit on the toilet every thirty minutes or so. By the end of the fifth day Brecken would go to the bathroom on his own, he still needed help pulling down his pants, but he was recognizing the signs of a full bladder all on his own. 

By day six we made our first excursion out to lunch. I still took him to the bathroom every thirty minutes to be safe and I can proudly say we were accident free!

And again, I know some of you will ask, night time was actually the easiest. The first few nights I put a diaper on Brecken to be safe. He had a wet diaper the first two nights, by the third night he woke up dry and by the next week he cried when I tried to put the diaper on so I eliminated it completely. 

Since then we've rarely had an accident after using the six-day method. For a month afterwards I still made sure to take him to the bathroom every thirty minutes-to-an-hour. The only accidents we encountered happened when I didn't get him to the toilet in time. 

Six months later//We haven't had an accident in months. Brecken is successfully going on his own, and will only ask for help if he can't get him pants up or down by himself. At night he is allowed water up until two hours before bedtime. If however in the middle of the night he does need to use the bathroom he is great about getting up and asking  me to take him. Good for him, bad for me. 

Looking back on our potty training experience I learned one valuable lesson. Consistency was the key. Which meant suffering for a few days for lasting results. I stuck to my guns and  eliminated all distractions for a few days so I could focus all my attention on Brecken and it seemed to be the key to not dragging out potty training for months.

Your thoughts? Please tell me you'll keep reading even though I dedicated an entire post to poop....

Time with Brecken

The last few days have been unseasonably warm and calm, which has been nice (after all, if it's not blowing  here it just seems unnatural). With the erratic behavior of our Montana weather the kids and I have spent the majority of the week outside. We've taken to the streets once again--Addy sits in the stroller while Brecken usually runs along side of me working out a winter's worth of built-up energy.  Once again his eyes have opened to curiosity of great outdoors (there is a wide assortment of pine cones and twigs stashed under my stroller to prove it). And while it may be warm, the vast array of puddles and sticky muddy side streets have become endless hours of entertainment for our little toddler--stomping and slipping, splashing and sliding never seem to cease with excitement (luckily Tide does the trick for the stains).

And if the warm weather wasn't enough, this morning our babes woke bright and early at 6:45. Addison was no match for the time and went down for a seasonably early (and rare) nap at 10. Which left the morning wide open for Brecken and I. As usual, train tracks have been built and dominoes have been made and toppled. With two now, I sometimes forget that it was Brecken and I for so long, this morning was a surprising breath of fresh air reminding me that his little energetic body also needs one-on-one attention occasionally. 

Thanks Saturday for the unexpected and simple moments that you've provided today. Here's to hoping your weekend is splendid as well! 

Hair. Cut.

Last night we cut the curls. They had become so unmanageable that most days I just felt defeated when I looked at his mop. They were cute and red and completely lovable, but man oh' man without the help of a ponytail//pigtails//braids//or bows they became unruly by 6PM. And let's face it, John would be beside himself if Brecken wore pigtails. Seriously though, how do I go about managing a boy fro? Naturally I let his freak flag fly, but by the end of everyday it looked as though he was more hair than boy. I blame my own genetics for the string of unfortunate events he will endure over the years with naturally curly hair.

So I declared that I'd had enough. I would not be defeated by curly hair so I commissioned John on the task taming the mane. He set up shop on the bathroom floor and clipped away. Occasionally I chimed in with opinions of his handiwork which he quickly quipped were not warranted nor needed (typical man. no?) Then as if he saw himself as Michelangelo finishing the last brush strokes on the Sistine Chapel he lifted his masterpiece to the mirror to admire his work.  The immediate reaction of tears were followed by choked up words of missing hair and a now round head. I mustered up as much strength as possible to not cry as well--seeing that my own tears would only exasperate his already fickle emotions. 

For a brief moment I questioned my own judgement if cutting his hair really was really that necessary. Could I not find someway to manage the curls? How about more gel? A hat or two may help? What if I just trimmed the ends? My mind raced over what should have happened and if I was over exaggerating his need for a hair cut. Then at that exact moment his bright blue eyes full of residual tears appeared from underneath the towel and I realized how long I had gone without seeing those beautiful blue beauties. I knew then the choice to cut was not only warranted but by golly--needed! It should be a crime to hide those gems if I do say so myself.

Besides, after a few hugs and an episode of Thomas the Train all was well in his world again. Now, if it was only that easy to change my mood around on my bad days...

P.S. his cute raglan pullover can be found at one of our favorite shops

Oh baby boy...

I knew that the day would come where my behavior would be a reflection of my son's actions. I honestly didn't think it would happen so quickly! Just the other day Brecken picked up a old fisher-price camera and with a swoop of his hand he lifted the camera to his face explaining, "Hold still! Move your hand! Smile!" Astonished I played along--all the while trying not to laugh at how my behavior must look like to him when I take pictures. Occasionally, the picture taking would cease while he would "check" his shots.  Being unsatisfied, he would tell me to hold still again and again until he got the perfect "picture."  After losing interest in his Momma he moved onto Addy who wasn't the best model, her urge to try to eat the camera was too much for him to handle. After finally succumbing to Brecken's new found hobby John also had to pose for his pictures too. Thank you baby boy for continually reminding me that I need to double check my actions each morning. 

And so it begins...

...for the next three months we'll be hit hard--birthdays. holidays. birthdays. more holidays. more birthdays. It only seems fitting to have Brecken's birthday kick off the Bishop Family Extravaganza  The event lasted three days. John remarked we were setting him up for unrealistic expectations in the future...who wouldn't want a three-day birthday bash?! Perhaps, we'll do a big one for him, that will change his mind!

Anyway, here are the things that I am loving about Brecken right now

*He has this witty sense of humor. I wish I had a piece of paper and pen with me all the time because he makes the funniest remarks, and he knows he funny, which then makes it even funnier.

*If you've ever met Brecken you know that someday he will be a heart breaker. This guy has the prettiest eyes and the most lush, long, and dark eyelashes in the world. jealouuus.  When mixed with his contagious smile and laugh, I know it will be a recipe for disaster when he is sixteen.

*He loves Cars and "Bwues Cwues." They've become a crutch when I need a moment of peace ;)

*Brecken is like this walking road map. He knows where the parks are at, when we are getting close, and when we've passed (which often leads to tears). Every time we go to Bozeman he knows when we are getting close to Grandma and Grandpa's house and he is constantly yelling "Stop Mommy, stop!" Even more impressive, this past summer we met up with my parents at the fairgrounds in Bozeman (for maybe three hours) and now when we drive that direction he is constantly asking why we're not stopping to see them.

*He is in the stage the mimicking stage. On a regular basis he will grab my face with both hands and he'll say "Listen to me. Listen to me."  He's also picked up "oh my gosh," "that is so cute" and "crap." crap.

*Even though he is speaking well, some words still come out funky, like: butterfwy , wiggle-washin (worm), wuv you, paghetti (spaghetti)

*he hates taking pictures. with. a. passion.

*He is finally at a stage where he will pay with toys, versus the alternative, which was everything other than a toy. Blocks, in his mind are met for stacking then destroying. Cars are meant to be chucked down the stairs, and balls are meant for kicking and throwing at the wall. However, I still can't keep him away from the can opener...

*Have I ever mentioned his obsession with drawing? I am sure I have. But the kid is seriously obsessed.  color all the time, and I think he loves crayons just for the joy of snapping them in half.

*books have always been a hot item in our house. Which usually means we go in phases with certain ones, right now that book would be Edwurd Fudwupper Fibbed Big (it's my fave) it you don't have it, you definitely need to add it to your collection.

*Our little boy is so good with his sister. Whenever we are in the car and she starts to cry he will lean over his car seat and gently whisper "hey, hey, hey, hey" until she falls back asleep. If that doesn't work he often will sing "Add-y, Ma-e. Add-y, Ma-e" over and over again until she quiets down. It's precious.

*He's not a big candy eater, but if you leave a bag of chips laying around the contents will be gone in a matter of minutes.

*This kid is like the Energizer Rabbit. He runs and jumps all day long--that may be way he calls our couch a "trampoline."

*He's started to show interest in gender specific toys, it's not that we don't have girl toys because we have our fair share of Barbies, purses, and play make up laying around--he's just grown to love cars and trucks.

*We've hit the tantrum stage. On Monday it was an all out lay down, kick feet, scream tantrum while at gymnastics. It was horrifying. 

*He's a cuddler. At night after we've brushed teeth, read books, and said our prayers he will often ask me to lay and cuddle with him. Some nights I sing to him, other nights he runs his fingers through me hair, no matter what we are doing it is always so hard to get up and leave the bed. Baby boy isn't so little anymore.

 Breck, you're the entire package. Always remember that.

We love you! 

Happy Birthday.

Three years. Has it really been that long? It seems like just yesterday we welcomed you into this world under less than ideal circumstances. You survived because you are strong. It's one of your most defining characteristics. You have a strong mind, and a vibrant personality and you have very strong opinions for such a young age mixed with a heart that is so loving and kind. It seems silly to think of life before you. Those things I used to fill my days now seem so superficial compared to now. Motherhood has become the most rewarding life I could have ever asked for--and it is all because of you. 

Sometimes I lay by you as you sleep wondering why God gave you to me? God must have known I needed you.  Deep down I hold a special place for you in my heart, two kindred spirits that share a common bond as first-borns as well as the same temperament and personality--I am sure I will regret it though when you're eighteen. But for now I savor your spit-fire mannerisms and continuous bursts energy. Thank you for making me into the person I never knew I could be. 

My little boy, my love is without bounds for you. Happy Birthday B. 

Something on Guarantees

Earlier tonight I ran into Brecken's room all Mother Bear like intending to bring the wrath down upon him for still being awake. Instead, I caught him sitting in bed reading a book. Can I really punish a kid who is looking at a book in bed? It's not unusual to find him like this and it's also reassuring as well. Brecken has reached a milestone where there are certain guarantees that come along with his age. 

He's a slobbery kisser. Not the bulldog-kind that licks your face to death. No, he's worse. He's a snot-nosed-need-a-tissue kind of kisser. And let it be known--he likes to kiss me. all. the. time. 

Blue Clues. Oh my holy hell (excuse my french), can I just say baby crack. He could watch it all day. All night. All month. All year! If I let him.

Drawing. We draw a lot. Actually I don't even think that describes how much we draw. Specifically, kites, balloons, helicopters. If I had a nickle...

He's a park goer. Parks are still fun, right?  Slides and swings are great, but an even better game is called "let's see how fast I can run away from Mom." It's his favorite game--and we play it daily.

Inside my child is a Mini-Hulk. He appears sporadically throughout the day; usually around nap time, public outings, photo ops, and bath time. Mini Hulk is strong. So strong in fact, that he has mastered the art of back  flipping out of my arms while simultaneously screaming bloody murder. 

He loves to read or be read to--however, you see it. Dr. Seuss is a favorite in our house. That "doctor" knew his audience well. Job well done Theo, job well done. 

He dances. Little bit of bum shakin' mixed with some Macarena moves. I know ya'll just said, "HEY! Macarena!" Try not to dance. Stop it! Stop it now! ;)

Church. It doesn't matter where we are, when he enters a church building the vocal chords go up a few notches and a monster is born. A true trial of my faith, I tell you. 

...And if Blues Clues was considered baby crack my iPad would certainly the drug of choice. 

When it is all said and done for every crying session there will be an equal number of movie dates with the best cuddling partner a girl could find and laughter that is so contagious that the room glows. And even with all those happy moments I still would not replace any of those snotty nose moments either. Because what Mom ever has a clean shirt anyway?