You dodged a bullet. Here, have a gluten-free dairy-free nut-free soy-free egg-free cookie.

I took Josiah to the allergists office for testing last Tuesday. I had observed some hives when he eats certain foods, so I wanted to get him checked out. Since his sister has anaphylactic allergies, it's always a good idea to have him tested for the allergens she has too. Imagine my surprise when the test shows negative to egg and peanut (Arianna's allergens), but positive to soy, cashew, almond, pecan, and walnut! So, now we carry four Epi-Pen Jr's, Benadryl liquid and I need to get Josiah a medical alert bracelet. They're mild allergens, so if we avoid them he may grow out of them.


When I got home Tuesday evening, I was shocked and horrified to read a post in my allergy mom's group. With her permission, I will share it with you now...

"A 'friend' of mine just casually informed me that an acquaintance of mine doesn't really believe in allergies, thinks it's all hype! Apparently, all six of her kids are healthy without any of these 'crazy, keep those peanuts away from me, life-threatening allergies'... She just thinks it's overly exaggerated and not really real..."

Um, excuse me? My first response was to laugh. Not in a funny ha-ha way. A "did I just read that?" way.


So, Ms. Doesn't Believe, you think it's all hype because all six of your kids are healthy? Isn't that a little closed-minded? All three of my kids have never had leukemia, never broken a bone, never had the chicken pox, or polio, or smallpox. I do, however believe all of these are not "hype". Neither are they overly exaggerated. I know they are really real.

Ms. Believe, I would like for you to spend a day... or maybe just an afternoon... in the life of an allergy mom. Make gluten, dairy, nut, soy, egg free breakfast. Don't forget to double check labels! Plan an outing with a homeschool or scouting group around your child's allergies (and the allergies of five other kids in the scouts group), pick up the Benadryl and Epi Pens from the pharmacy, but make sure not to leave them in the car because if you do, they go bad! Then take the kids to a park, but be sure not to let the kids out of your sight, because their particular allergen could be anywhere!


Now let me tell you why you have to do all of those things. If my daughter gets around peanuts, first her skin itches. She scratches it, she starts to swell, then she starts to cough. That's as far as her allergic reactions have gone because we've taken action fast before she got to an anaphylactic reaction.


I've never had an anaphylactic reaction, but I have witnessed my sister's reactions before. It starts with an itchy tongue usually, followed by your tongue, lips, face swelling up. Then it gets hard to breathe. Really hard to breathe. If you don't use an EpiPen in time, you could DIE. I'm not being overly dramatic. I'm telling the truth.


I had an allergic reaction to something I ate last night. My tongue, lips, and face were going numb and itchy at the same time. I took Benadryl and prayed. I was hoping it didn't get worse than that, because I knew what happened next. I'd get an EpiPen injection, transferred to the hospital via ambulance, and sit for 4 hours in an ER being watched by the doctors for a secondary reaction. Yeah, it's so "not really real" that doctors take it *that* seriously.


So, I'd like to say to Ms. Doesn't Believe, thank God your children don't have food allergies. I thank God every day that my kids have survived so far and that my middle child is allergy free! And try to be a little easier on us allergy moms, mmkay? Because as for me, I'd give anything not to be all "keep those peanuts away from me"!

The Transition of a Basket

When I was a young, excited, expectant mother, I had a baby shower. I received a basket, and in that basket there was a hand-made crocheted blanket for my daughter. Bright pink, with hearts crocheted so carefully. A trim of different colors. Hand-made with love by a woman who is dear to our family's hearts. It continues to be a cherished blanket of Arianna's.

The basket went on after Arianna was born to be used as a home for diapers, burpies, receiving blankets, and the like. We kept it in the living room for quick access to those items. We did the same with the basket for when Jonas and Josiah were newborns.

As our newborns grew into infants and toddlers, we used this same basket for baby toys. The rattles, "chew toys", things that were special for the babies to play with, that the older kids knew not to run off with. The babies knew where they could find their toys. It locked so we could keep them from stringing the toys all over the place.

Now that we're heading into a new era of parenthood, with Arianna heading into Kindergarten, the basket has found a new job. It now holds homeschool curriculum. It has held up to the test of time, and has found a new career. We open it, pull out what we need to teach her, and when we need to we lock it so they don't mess up everything before we use it.

A basket has transitioned through life, but so have I. I've been a mom for five years. I've gone from being nervous, excited, to frustrated and sleeplessly hoping for the next stage in my child's life, to comfortable and enjoying every minute God blesses me with these kids! I fondly look forward to what lies ahead for us... and that basket...

Thank God for eczema

2Co 12:7-10 (ESV)  So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong. 

Arianna loves to say her nighttime prayers. As an almost-five-year-old, she often misspeaks. We're trying to teach her the difference between thanking God for something and asking him for something. We thank God for our blessings, we ask God to heal the sick.

Every night we typically pray for the same things. Thank God for our home, Daddy's job, our family, our church family, please help the sick people. Tonight, when Arianna got to praying for the sick people, she didn't get out of the thanking "mode". The first thing she said was, "Thank God for my eczema."

I know what she meant, but I couldn't help but think about how awesome her eczema is. Yes, eczema is a nightmare. Especially hers. She itches everywhere. She has large red rough patches all over her body, from her scalp to her toes. She tries not to scratch. She rubs, she tells us and we apply products from steroid anti-itch creams to natural, organic, homeopathics. We had to stop the steroid creams because they are thinning her skin too much. When she can't stand it anymore, she scratches. She scratches hard. She scratches until she bleeds, and then some more. Her feet are a mess. We're pretty sure she'll have scarring in certain areas she's scratched too hard.

However, eczema is teaching her (and us) a lesson. Several lessons. It's teaching her how to overcome hardships. Teaching her how to be patient. How to overcome physical limitations. It's teaching her that her beauty is not in her red, rough, scratched up and bleeding skin. It's in her smile, in her patience with her brother(s), in her little voice singing "God's not dead, he's surely alive" in the back seat of our minivan at the top of her lungs, in the way she comes to me when I'm in pain in bed and tells me that she prayed that I'll feel better. It's teaching us that some things just happen, there's no rhyme or reason, and there's no point blaming vaccines or formula use or overuse of baby bath and baby lotions with chemicals, but to focus on moving forward rather than looking at the past.

So, thank God for eczema! It is teaching our family lessons we would never have learned without it, and all of us will come out on the other side with stronger faith and stronger relationships with each other.

My heart, my mind

My body, my soul

I give to You, take control

I give my body, a living sacrifice

Lord, take control, take control

Things are about to get serious up in here...

July.








Wait, WHAT?! July? When did THAT happen?








Where did May and June go?








For that matter, where did the past FIVE YEARS go?


Yes, five. I have been a mother for almost five years. We're staring down the barrel at our oldest child's fifth birthday. I vividly remember the summer of 2007. Well, the first half. The second half flew by so fast I hardly remember any of it, mainly because I was in an cesarean and oxycodone-induced postpartum depression fog, but that's a story for another day and time. June and July was hot. I mean, hot. I'm pretty sure it hit 200 degrees. In the shade.


Fast forward to five years later. I have a happy, bouncy almost-five-year-old telling me, "Mommy, it's July. My birthday is in July!" The next half of this summer going into fall is going to fly by, much like that c-section/oxycodone fog.


First, we'll be signing up Arianna for soccer. She wants to play so bad. When we had to take a ball away... again... due to her kicking the ball in the house, we decided it was time to sign her up for soccer. Lord willing, we'll be getting her in with an Upward league near our house. This makes me excited and nervous at the same time. Having a child with anaphylactic allergies makes anything like this scary. Kids or parents bring snacks that have her allergen, if they touch her or she touches the food, we could be dealing with a life-threatening situation. However, we can't live our lives cowering in the corner, with her in a bubble, for fear of the unknown. We do our best to maintain a nut free environment by having me sign up as team parent and bringing snacks for the kids, we make sure the coaches, parents, and other kids know the seriousness of her condition and take it that seriously, and we carry her rescue medications and most importantly pray that she is kept safe.


After soccer is handled, we'll be purchasing her homeschool curriculum. We've decided on using My Father's World curriculum, based on several positive comments from friends who use it and that it has everything I want in a homeschool curriculum. To prepare to homeschool, we will be spending the next month and a half cleaning and organizing bedrooms, my sewing desk (which will double as a "Keep the school stuff away from the boys" area), and a closet that has a lot of our office supplies that has been neglected. I am wanting to have everything ready by August, but we won't be starting school until the 20th.


In between soccer, preparing the house and curriculum for school, and all of the other things we do (OT, ST, doctor's visits, etc.) I'll be working to get our year planned for American Heritage Girls. I'm the co-leader for Arianna's age group in our troop. They don't get patches at this age, they get beads. They get small beads for coming to meetings, and then they get big beads for accomplishments like knowing the Pledge of Allegiance, the AHG creed, motto, etc. There's stuff we're doing with the littles, then there are things we are doing with the troop as a whole like camping, participating in Wreathes Across America, collecting change to buy chickens and a goat to send to Haiti (this provides a constant food supply/income for poor families), having a float in the Gator Bowl Parade, and other fun stuff.


My hands are full! I couldn't be happier though! I love my kids, and I am so happy to be blessed with the opportunities to do all of these things with her. I can't wait until the boys are old enough to do things like this too!


This post has been mostly about my little girl, but our boys are getting so big! Jonas is losing his baby fat, saying more and speaking clearer, he still has his days where neither of us understand each other and we both end up crying, but we work it out. Josiah is running everywhere. LJ says he is at "maximum cuteness" level, which means that he could get away with murder if we let him! He's TOO cute! Portraits forthcoming, this week!

Adventures in Co-Sleeping Volume I

I love co-sleeping. I'd say 95% of the time it helps us get more sleep. We have an open door policy at our house. If Mommy and Daddy's door is open, the kids are welcome to come into the bedroom. Often I've opened the door as we're getting ready for bed (we usually watch TV/play xbox in the bedroom at night) and Jonas will be there, pillow in hand.

Like I said, 95% of the time we get more sleep. They come in, slide in bed next to us, and fall asleep.

Then there's the 5%. Last night was the 5%.

So, around 4-5AM, I was nursing Josiah who had woken up. I was about to fall asleep when Arianna comes in the room. She insists on laying next to Mommy. So, she gets halfway on the crib and our mattress and starts to go to sleep. Then enter Jonas. He wasn't happy that his sister had taken the spot on the crib. That was HIS spot, and he made sure everyone knew. So, I scooted her over more on the mattress, and he snatched the crib's blanket and laid down. Which, naturally, caused her to melt down because she then was left without a blanket. Does she want the big comforter that Mommy and Daddy were sharing? No, no she does not. She wants HER blanket. I tell her to go get it. "BUT I'M TOO TIRED!"

At this point, Jonas is sitting up, irritated that his sister isn't content with him getting his way. Now, you may be wondering if the baby is sleeping through this. No, no he's not. Is Daddy? Why yes, yes he is. Grrrrrr.....

(**Disclaimer: I love my husband. He works long, hard hours in a very physically demanding job in the Florida heat and humidity. He deserves to sleep through the night. However, nights like this are when I need a little support.)

I wake Daddy. He goes to get her blanket, she lays down, then Jonas and Josiah refuse to go back down. Daddy takes Jonas, I nurse Josiah a bit longer, then switch to pacifier when he doesn't want to nurse. I hold him in the crook of my arm until he falls asleep. He's just almost asleep, as I am, when his left arm flies up and smacks me across the face... Did I mention I had a headache too??? Well, now it was worse.

I waited until he was good and asleep, transferred him from my arm to the bed, rolled over and looked at my cell phone. 5AM. Yay.

As I kissed LJ goodbye this morning, I said, "They had better sleep past 8!"

The time is now 8:13. They've been up for approximately 45 minutes.

This is the rare experiences with co-sleeping. Like I said, 5%. Attachment parenting (really, parenting in general) is about taking the good with the bad. Enjoying the fun and not pulling your hair out during the frustrating moments. The usual mornings, when we wake up to the baby nursing, the other two quietly asleep in our beds, and not remembering any of it happening, are reward for the bad nights. The big reward is how close we are to our kids. I wouldn't change it for all the sleep I could get!

Bradycardia, One Year Later

As long as I live, I will always remember May 30-June 1, 2011. I don't remember what we did on Memorial Day that year. I just remember sitting in the evening, feeling extremely exhausted, more so than five days after my other children were born. More than exhausted, I felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest. This pressure often came with breathing difficulties associated with asthma, but I wasn't having an asthma attack. On a whim, I took my blood pressure. It was fine, but my pulse wasn't. I knew immediately that a pulse in the 40s was dangerous. I called my OB, curious if this was a post-op danger (I still had moderate-heavy bleeding). In the time I was waiting for her to call back, I continued to check my pulse. Sitting: 38. Standing: 42. I ran around the apartment for two minutes and took it again: 55. I sat down again: 41. I was scared. I told LJ that we needed to be ready to go to the hospital. He thought I was exaggerating, but started getting the kids ready.

When the doctor called me back, she wasn't sure what to tell me. She suggested I go to urgent care or the hospital. Hoping to avoid taking my newborn to the hospital, we loaded the kids up and went down to the urgent care center. (Hint: if you are trying to figure out whether you should go to the ER or urgent care, go to the ER. Don't waste time. If your doctor's office is closed, urgent care is great. It's not a substitute for the ER).

At the urgent care center, I was treated by a less than sympathetic nurse practitioner. She refused to let my husband and children come back to the room. I had to leave my husband, 5 day old, 2 year old and 3 year old in the waiting room. She left me, undressed, in the room for about fifteen minutes. Without pads, milk was pouring out of me. I was in tears, scared out of my life. The medical assistant came in and did an echo. She left, and I heard Josiah screaming in the waiting room. I got dressed, walked down the hall and took him so I could feed him.

The nurse practitioner came back in and said, "We are going to call an ambulance to transfer you to the nearest hospital." I said, "No you are not. First, tell me what is wrong with me." She said, "You're having bradycardia, and you need more tests run." I said, "Well, I want to go to St. Luke's." She said, "The ambulance will take you to the nearest hospital, which is Shands." I said, "I'm not going in an ambulance." I walked out of the room, in tears afraid of what was going on. At the time, I had no clue what bradycardia was. All I knew was "cardia" which meant heart. Something was wrong with my heart.

Being the natural, calm, collected, easy-going person I am, I immediately began to think I was dying, that I was going to leave my husband a widower with three small children, searching for donor breastmilk, homeschooling them with the help of my mother, lonely and not having a clue about things like how to wash cloth diapers, how to wrap the Girasol wrap, how to tell the doctor not to retract the boys' foreskins, which vaccines have what in them and why we say no... I was so scared. I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible and get to the ER. They made me sign out AMA (Against Medical Advice). We left, and called my mom to meet us at the hospital.

We arrived at St. Luke's, my mom took the older two, and LJ, Josiah and I went in and checked into the ER. Apparently, when you say "bradycardia", people move fast. We barely spent five minutes in triage. Before we knew it, we were in a room, I was hooked up to a heart monitor, I had x-rays done and we were waiting to meet the doctor. He came in and told me my heart was enlarged. He wanted to do a CT scan with contrast, but to do so I'd have to stop nursing my baby for 3 days. WHAT?!?!?! My exclusively breastfed (EBF) baby. The baby that has never taken a pacifier or a bottle. My FIVE DAY OLD CHILD. The child I was planning on breastfeeding AT LEAST until he was two or three??? STOP? NO WAY! I told the doctor there had to be another way to get the images they needed, that I was not going to stop breastfeeding for that long. He left to go talk to the radiologist. 

I broke down, crying my eyes out over my baby. My sweet, adorable, breastfeeding at the time, baby. I couldn't imagine not breastfeeding him for three whole days. I couldn't imagine not breastfeeding him for 3 hours! The head radiologist came in to talk to me. He said it was at least 24 hours I'd have to not breastfeed, but they would get me a pump and anything I needed to keep my supply up. My mom made a supply run to the house and WalMart for frozen breastmilk, the laptop, bottles, pacifiers, then met up at the hospital. I nursed Josiah until they took me to CT. I cried sobbed all the way there. They had to calm me down so I wasn't shaking during the scan. During the scan, I could hear my heart racing in my ears. I looked up at the heart monitor. 50 BPM. Not your typical I'm-scared-out-of-my-mind heart rate. I made a decision in that machine. Breastfeeding wasn't the most important thing in my life. LIFE was the most important thing in my life! I would find breastmilk. I knew friends who breastfed. I had a handful I would be happy to let wetnurse my baby. I knew of Human Milk 4 Human Babies. My situation was exactly what HM4HB was set up for! And, if push came to shove, I would make my own, organic formula as a last resort (the way formula was created to be).

When I came back from CT, my baby was asleep in my mom's arms. I told her to take him home, and I would work on finding more milk for him. I sent messages out to my local ICAN group, the HM4HB Florida page, and a local mom's group. My mom stayed with us until they admitted me and put us in a room. I kissed my sleeping baby, afraid that was the last time I'd see him. My mom left.

We attempted to settle in for the night, but it was quite difficult. My heart rate at its highest was still too low to be acceptable to the heart monitor. It was always flashing a bright red light and beeping. The nurse immediately turned the alarms off, and eventually just turned off our monitor. I tried to sleep. At 7AM, my hospital phone, cell phone and e-mail was flooded with offers for milk for my baby. One of those close friends I mentioned offered to wetnurse. A few friends and strangers offered to pump. One friend in particular saw my posts, got in the car with her mom and two littles of her own and drove over an hour to get a gallon sized bag of frozen breastmilk and a gallon of frozen raw goat's milk to my mom. My baby had milk! And just in time too! My mom told me that Josiah finished my last bag if milk when Jessica drove up! I rested that morning knowing that God provided. If I couldn't breastfeed my baby, someone would!

I met with a cardiologist. He said my heart's enlargement was normal for a woman less than a week postpartum. He said my heart rate got down to 35 during the night, and we needed to do whatever we could to get it up again. Already prepared for the medicine he was going to suggest (thanks to my awesome doctor in the ER), I had already contacted the Infant Risk Center regarding the safety of the suggested medicine and alternatives. He agreed to the safer alternative, and we started on that, a diuretic for the water retention, and got a sonogram of my heart.

Then we waited. The medicine to get my heart rate up caused a horrible migraine. They gave me medicine for that, and in between sleep and pumping, LJ and I watched Bones on my laptop. That was the longest 24 hours of my life. I didn't even want to call my mom. I knew if I did, I'd hear my baby, and they'd need to sedate me. I was a hormonal mess.

We went to sleep that night and slept better now that the heart monitor wasn't beeping nonstop. My heart rate had returned to normal. When we woke up the next morning, my mom was already on her way with my babies. 24 hours had came and gone, and I was ready to see my baby! At discharge, my cardiologist said I needed to continue to pump and dump for 3 more days. I laughed. I asked him why, and he said the medicine we used needed to be out of my system... after already switching to a safer medicine for breastfeeding?? I told him I'd take it into advisement... as I was latching my 1 week old baby on.

Once again, I was wheeled out of St. Luke's Hospital in a wheelchair with a baby in my arms... We went home and rested.

A year has passed, and I can still remember the pain I felt of having to kiss my baby goodbye. I really thought I was dying. I thought I wouldn't be able to breastfeed again. God is good, and he answered my prayers with a resounding "YES!" Josiah started breastfeeding again with no problem, and he is still breastfeeding now at 1 year and 5 days old. More than that, those two days were the ONLY time he took a bottle! Ask my mom! He still takes a pacifier, but we didn't re-introduce that until he was 3 months old and started teething and was hurting Mama. Also, my heart has never given us any more issues. The cardiologist said it was caridac fatigue from childbirth. If we weren't "done" before, we are now!

I remember the pain, but I also remember the relief. I remember how great it felt to get all those phone calls and e-mails offering breastmilk, wetnursing, pumping, etc. You ladies know who you are, and you will never know how much you all mean to me. Jessica, you may mean the most to me because you barely had a yes and you were on the road bringing my baby the food he needed! I love you all! 

For more information on donating breastmilk, please search for your state, province or country's Human Milk 4 Human Babies page on facebook, twitter or e-mail them using the Human Milk 4 Human Babies website at www.hm4hb.net. 


**ETA: I checked with Infant Risk and several other sources, and I did *NOT* need to pump and dump for 24 hours! I asked about the specific isotope, and they said 4 hours max with most if not all of them! So, live and learn, and move on. I'm just thankful our breastfeeding relationship wasn't sacrificed!**

Time Flies

The more children I have, the faster time goes by. I remember being a new mom, with this tiny, fussy little girl in my arms thinking... 


"I can't wait until she sleeps better!"
"I can't wait until she sits up!"
"I can't wait until she crawls!"
"I can't wait until she walks!"
"I can't wait until she talks!"


Then in the blink of an eye, I'm pregnant with her brother, and she's one! I wished her infancy away, looking forward to her next development and never appreciating the now.


I was determined not to let it happen with her little brother. I would enjoy every moment. Breathe it in, accept the struggles of no sleep for three months (yes, three months. She's still our lightest sleeper) and enjoy her baby babbles without wishing to hear words.


Yet, enjoying an infant is rather difficult while chasing his big sister around. His first year went faster than hers. I didn't get to enjoy as much quiet time just holding my baby, just appreciating all of his wondrous traits. He was typically on my chest in a wrap while we went about errands, doctor's appointments, etc. I got lots of cuddle time, but not enough quiet time to breathe him in. Before I knew it, he was one.


When their little brother came around, I knew being home alone with three kids all day would be difficult. I knew it would take a lot of time and energy. I didn't know his infancy would pass the fastest. I remember telling LJ at every developmental stage (newborn, 3 months, 6 months, 9 months, 11 months) "I love this age!" because I do! I can now appreciate the highs and lows of infancy, how there are good things to having a newborn (hello, you get to nap when baby naps!), a young infant (searching for that first smile, lots of lovies, watching him discover fascinating things like... his fist), an older infant (becoming mobile... yay!), and a pre-toddler (those first steps...).


Once again in the blink of an eye, and way before I'm ready to, I'm looking at a one year old. He didn't help the process by walking at 10 months old. It's almost as if he knew he had to catch up to his brother and sister. I feel like this last year has gone by way too fast, faster than the first years of his brother and sister. Why, oh why, is it now that I've learned my lesson that I don't get to appreciate babyhood?


Time flies. I know, because my parents tell me. My grandmother tells me. I complain about my baby being one before I'm ready, her baby has a baby that has a baby. I know it's just going to get worse as they get older, as we're flying around to scouts, homeschool activities, family activities, etc. All I can do is appreciate the now. To those three angels who, during the night, have overtaken our bed. I watch them sleep, so peacefully, knowing in about ten minutes our house is coming to life and it's not going to stop until 9PM. And I pray that I can appreciate the ages they are in now, knowing that if I blink too much they will be grown up...


Happy birthday, Josiah.

Caution: Highly Opinionated Woman Ahead

I feel the need to preface this blog with a warning.

I have some opinions that may come out in the blog. I may blog about current events, subjects that matter a lot to me, subjects that I am passionate about, or subjects that bug me to death. You may enjoy these opinions.

You may hate them.

It may make me sound extremely harsh or rude, but I really don't care. This is my place. I speak my mind. So, if you don't care to hear my opinions on:

• marriage (including God's plan for marriage--to include gay marriage and a woman's role in marriage)
• childbirth
• breastfeeding
• routine infant circumcision
• the current political "mess" (**on both sides of the aisle, mind you**)
• homeschooling
• religion and faith

That's fine. I understand. I'm not even hurt. It's my right to speak my mind on these subjects. It's your right to completely ignore me on these subjects. Just know, I will not permit attacks against my God, myself, or my family to stay on this blog. Good-hearted debate and discussion is welcome. If it gets offensive, it will be deleted. I don't do this to "censor" anything. This blog is mainly the story of our life. That story may lead down the path of certain highly debated topics. I don't wish to turn into a place where people argue, fight, etc. It is a place for me to share the life and times of myself and my family.

I hope you enjoy. Some posts may be long. Some posts may be one-liners (from my smartypants almost-five-year-old). I hope to include many pictures from our crazy life.

Enjoy!

Becca

So there's me...

My name is Becca. I'm pushing 30. I grew up in sunny Florida. All over Florida, actually. Everywhere except the Panhandle. My parents moved around a lot when I was a kid. When I was 12, the same year I put on my Lord and Savior in baptism, my grandfather died and my parents moved up to Jacksonville to be closer to my grandmother.

We started going to church with Edna. She is a really sweet older woman who loves hugs! She had a grandson, LJ, that would visit occasionally. After he would visit, she always told me, "I want you to marry my grandson someday." I had to admit, he was quite cute. He was also very shy and wouldn't say much. I didn't think he'd ever be interested in me!

Time passed, I graduated high school, went away to college for a year, but decided to move back home. About the same time, LJ started coming to church on a regular basis. We started hanging out in December. By the end of January we were dating, and by March we were engaged. We married in September of the following year.

Look at the babies!! This was us the Easter after we got married.

A little over two years later, we were surprised and thankful to be expecting our first child. Arianna was born in July. Almost a year exactly after Arianna was born, we found out Jonas would come in February. We thought our family was complete.

LJ, Jonas (14m), Arianna (2y9m) and I on the Monorail to the Magic Kingdom, April 2010

Not long after that picture was taken, I had a wombache. I wanted another baby. LJ and I discussed this for about 30 seconds, then decided we wanted to try for a third child. Thirty seconds after that (give or take 28 days), we were pregnant! Josiah was born via a vaginal birth after 2 cesareans (VBA2C). To read about his birth, check out my other blog at Road2VBA2C.

Mommy's littlest man! This was taken about 1 hour after birth.

Five days after Josiah was born, I had the scare of my life. I was extremely fatigued, retaining water, and felt horrible. I took my blood pressure, which was fine. My pulse was not. When you go to the ER with a pulse in the 30s, they tend to work on you pretty fast. Fast Forward two of the worst days of my life (away from my newborn, pumping and dumping milk, horrible headache from medicines to get my heart working right), they assumed it was fatigue from childbirth. So, ready or not, we were done having babies!

I don't think we could ask for more wonderful kids!

I couldn't ask for better kids. They are my life, my world, my reason for dragging my butt out of bed in the morning. My blog is called "Attached To My Kids" because that is what I am. I don't work outside the home (although I am actively looking into non-pyramid scheme ways to make money from home without sacrificing time away from my kids). I homeschool (at least I will--Arianna starts kindergarten this fall). When we go out, we usually all go out together. Except for my weekend trips to the grocery store. Usually I like to go by myself. It's clearing. When we're all out together, I'm usually wearing the baby. I breastfeed. Josiah turns 1 this month, and I don't plan on stopping any time soon! Our boys are intact (uncircumcised). We co-sleep. This means that on any given night, we have between 3 and 5 people in our bed before morning. The older two typically start out in their bed, but sometimes end up in our bed. The baby is still nursing, so we have a crib/co-sleeper next to our bed for easy access during the night. He is quite accustomed to waking, crawling over to me, nursing, and falling asleep next to me.

So now you know me. You know my reasons for living. Welcome!