A Humbling Reminder

Today I went to my OB in order to obtain the results of my nuchal translucency test. And yes, I did have to Google that in order to get the correct spelling.

I've got to admit, I was nervous. This prenatal screening was taken to see if there were any chromosomal abnormalities in the baby, including Down Syndrome or any major congential heart problems.

We're 15 weeks along. I'm feeling a lot better, I'm eating well and have a pretty good amount of energy... well, you know, compared to the first trimester. But with the exception of a few flutters I thought I felt this past week and my growing baby bump, how am I supposed to know if everything is healthy? How am I supposed to know if everything is happening according to the "plan"? How do I know if the baby is getting everything he/she needs? I really don't.

On my way to the doctor, I was thinking about how I might handle the results to this test.

What if?

You know what I'm talking about. It's that sudden realization where you have to conceed the fact that ultimately, you are NOT in control. You have little say in how this little one came to be, grows and matures into the little person God designed them to be. And whether God meant for them to be a child with Down Syndrome or with a heart problem, whether it's a boy, or a girl, you've got to be okay with that.

Well, my OB said that our chances of this baby having Down Syndrome were slim to none and everything looks beautiful. We're looking forward to (hopefully) finding out the sex on November 3rd! I was thrilled. My dreams of Baby Sauer #3 growing into a healthy, gifted and productive man/woman seemed to be coming true. But I still had to catch myself. God is still in control. God has the final say. God knows what we can handle and what we need most.

It was another moment of motherhood where I felt extremely humble. Grateful. Small. God is allowing me to carry this little one for Him. It is His child. He is the Master Designer, the Creator, the Mastermind behind this beautiful being. And my job is to simply trust Him to complete the work He started.

Thank you, God, for entrusting this little one to my care. We have already been so blessed by this new life.

One on One

Another post written by my co-author, my dad. Thanks for never hesitating to spend time with us, Dad.

When our kids were younger, it was rare that Donna and I would be away from home with only one child at a time. However, when we were able to take one at a time, we noticed that the child became more attentive and compliant. Once we discovered how well each child responded, we began to look for opportunities to ask each one to come along with us when we went out.

Don’t get me wrong. These weren’t elaborate trips to the zoo or Chuck E. Cheese’s. These were quick trips to pick up a car at the repair shop, the grocery store or any other routine trip that needed to be made. We spent time talking with them about things that interested them and would often buy a treat for them to enjoy on the way home (usually Anderson’s Custard because that’s what I liked).

We found this to be one way to deal with sibling rivalry as well. When their bickering would get to a fever pitch, we physically separated them; either in different rooms or I would take one in the car somewhere; anywhere. When it got to this point, we were desperate. But, the personal attention usually calmed the storm. Maybe that’s what they needed all along.

Adventures in Sleeping. Or not.

Ooh, the adventures of parenting toddlers. Just when you think you know what you're doing... BAMB... something happens to remind you how little you really know.

Sleeping - or rather, going to sleep - has been our biggest issue lately.

It didn't used to be. Well, you know, after we finally figured out a plan that worked in getting them to finally start sleeping through the night. We had to adjust our plan when the boys were sick, when we had a family getogether, when we transitioned from two naps to just one, but overall, things have been going really really well.

A month ago, however, things changed. It was as if the boys just discovered that their partner in crime was only five feet from their crib and they had a license to entertain them. They'd jump, throw out their blankets, do somersaults, stand on their hand, make crazy noises, scream, yell to each other... it was insane. "What did I do wrong?" I wondered. Perhaps the change came because of our move into the new apartment. But this began more than a month after. Were they sensing me to be too soft? Probably. It was around this same time that we learned we were pregnant and so I had been increasingly exhausted. I just didn't have the energy to follow through on much of anything. I was just trying to maintain status quo!

My husband and I talked relentlessly about what we should do. We tried various tactics, but were only met with short success. Should we just concede defeat? Separate them into two bedrooms and let them cry themselves to sleep? We did have an additional bedroom in our new apartment, but we wanted to make that into the nursery. What should we do? This mommy needed sleep (and my boys were monsters without theirs as well!)

We knew a lot of this was developmental. The boys have been trying to assert their independence in other areas of their life - perhaps this was just an extension of that. So my husband decided to talk to the boys. They're only two and a half, you say, how much would they even understand? True, I wouldn't have thought this technique to be as effective as it turned out to be. But as we were reading books as part of our regular nightly routine, Andy told the boys what was coming next. "We're going to read books, sing some songs, pray, and then we're going to bed. When you're in your crib, there is no jumping." He repeated this same concept a few times during our routine and then again as we were walking them to their cribs. "No jumping," Ben repeated. Hmm, they understood.

That night, the jumping seemed to have stopped. They still would yell each other's name, say, "Mommy, where are yewww?" and make noises, but no more jumping. This seemed to make sense: my boys always have liked to know what was coming. They want to know the expectations (even if they choose not to follow them.) They're not a fan of surprises.

Andy continued doing this same thing for the next few nights until the jumping stopped completely. Then we noticed they were doing a crazy amount of somersaults and standing on their heads. So last night, he added something else to our bedtime routine. "When you go into your cribs, there's..." (Boys interrupted to say, "No jumping.") "Yes, that's right. No jumping. And there are no somersaults."

I've been repeating this same technique at naptime, too, trying to stay consistent. And they've been responding! Today when I put them down, Jack said, "No dumping. No saw-salts. Mommy 'appy!" (Translation: "No jumping. No somersaults. Mommy happy!") Yeah, I'd say they're getting the message.

Last night was wonderful. Tonight was wonderful. Both nights, they layed down without a problem and didn't make any noises. It took us a while to get here, but I'd say progress is happening!!

Throughout the past two and a half years, I've learned that there's nothing more humbling than attempting to raise your own children. No other job in the world reminds you just how much (and how little) control you have over certain things in life. We've had our share of successes and our share of failures, all of which have been humbling. But we're learning. And I believe we're getting better. At least until the next kid comes and reminds us how little we know!

I should also mention that the boys decided against a nap this afternoon. Don't think we're 100% fixed. But I'm going to blame this afternoon on two dirty diapers and a mommy who was more interested in editing and uploading photos than going in to see why they were both still awake. Ya see? Humbling. But still, we're moving in the right direction!

Why I've Been Silent

There is a reason for my silence lately. Umm, for the past two months. First of all, I've been holding a secret I just couldn't spill. And you know how it is, holding a secret. If someone tells you NOT to think about something, that's all you can think about. So I definitely couldn't blog. And second, I've been too exhausted to make time to write. Well, that, and throwing up and all.

You guessed it: I'm pregnant!

Ben and Jack are going to be big brothers!

We're thirteen weeks today, which puts Baby #3's arrival date at about April 5th. We are THRILLED! The Lord seems to have worked out the timing perfectly... the baby should arrive about a month before the boys turn three years old and we now have an additional bedroom (in our first floor apartment) in order to accomodate our new little one. And yes, please notice that I said ONE. I'm only growing one baby this time. Kinda new for me. But it's been going great so far!

Well, actually, that's a lie. It seems as if carrying one baby is more effort for my body than when it was carrying two. Or perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I'm already caring for two toddlers. Or perhaps it was because I stopped teaching after 20 weeks to stay home and care for my growing belly... naps whenever I wanted, that sort of thing. Or perhaps it's all of those things. They say every pregnancy is different and man, are they right! I was never sick with the boys. I gained weight on a steady scale, never had heartburn and never got swollen ankles. This time around, every little smell makes me gag and I've had to use a plastic bag when I'm driving to throw up from the awkward smell of exhaust in the truck ahead of me... more than once. My boys watched me hunch over the toilet on multiple occasions and tried to comfort me by saying, "Hi mom," over and over. Which, of course, just made me cry. Not that I've been extra emotional anyway. I lost more than ten pounds in the first ten weeks. Totally not like me! I ate what I could, but it is so difficult to eat when NOTHING appeals to you. Nothing. I forced myself to eat saltines so often that after a week, even the thought of them made me gag. Eventually, my OB changed my prenatal vitamins (I guess fish oil, when present in vitamins, helps the baby's brain development but is hard on your tummy - I switched to one with vegetable oil) and made a few other suggestions to make me more comfortable. One of her suggestions was to skip the saltines and eat Wheat Thins (a whole wheat) with cheese (a protein). Yogurt and granola. Plain Cheerios and milk. Those three foods have been a staple in my diet lately. Well, that and milkshakes and French fries, which always appeal to me. But raw meat? No, thanks. I couldn't stand the sight of raw meat much less the smell of it cooking. Andy cooked dinners outside on the grill and we've gone out for dinner more times than our entire dating life. We seriously could be food/dining critics with our extensive experience now.

But when I was about eleven and a half weeks along, I started feeling better. I gagged less times during the day and much of my food was staying down. I started to feel like I had more energy and I actually checked my email and Facebook before going down for my daily nap. It's kinda nice. I definitely still feel pregnant, but the fact that I can function on a more human level makes me feel... well... more human!!

In the meantime, I'm trying not to feel guilty about the extensive hours my boys logged in front of the television during the first eleven weeks. Especially since I never had the television on before the boys were two. Let's just say I made up for lost time.

I used to be so proud of my positive pregnancy experience with the boys when I talked to other moms. They'd tell me how sick they were, how difficult it was to get off the couch and how uncomfortable they were from beginning to end. "Oh, I was never sick," I'd admit, proudly. As if I had something to do with how my body responded to the aliens that were growing inside of me. Well, I've since thrown all that out the window. Every experience is different. Every mother is different. Every child is different. And there is absolutely NOTHING you can do about finding yourself in one category or another. That fact has offered me much humility and grace.

But here's the silver lining. In about seven months from now, the Lord will use all of these changes in my body to give us the fifth member of our family. Our third miracle. And that, my friends, is worth it. What an honor, for God to involve ME in the process!

Now please excuse me. I'm going to lay down while my boys still have an hour or so left in their nap. Baby Sauer needs to grow!

All Sorts of Emotions

We are moving in two days. I honestly can't believe it.

Laying in bed while the boys sleep, I've learned that I can only really have about three productive days a week. One day working and then next day, I'm going through the plan in my head for the next day, working out every detail. If you haven't guessed, yesterday was a productive day (my mom watched the boys so I could work in the attic) and I'm getting ready to tackle another day of productivity tomorrow.

But rather than make another to-do list, I'm trying to sort through some of my thoughts. There seem to be quite a few of them these days.

I feel anxious. Excited. Nervous. Sentimental.

Andy renovated this apartment three months before we got married. He put in stackable laundry. Redesigned the bathroom. Redid the kitchen. Installed a dishwasher. Layed down a new hardwood floor. Expanded our master suite to include a walk-in closet. Three months. He wanted this country bumpkin to be comfortable in the city. In our little apartment on the second floor. That was more than four years ago. And I've really enjoyed being here. We made our life here. As a couple, and then as parents.

My only idea of the city when I was growing up was going to the zoo. And my Aunt Mary and Uncle Ron's house. It felt like they lived in another state. The car ride felt like forever and we never left when it was light outside. They lived in the top floor of a house with an outside porch. Aunt Connie lived downstairs, though her porch was walled in. Even as a kid, I remembered liking that upstairs porch. It was amazing how much people watching you could do without leaving your front stoop. The houses were close together and we teased that we could run from one window into the other next door.

I would have never ever thought that I would be moving into the lower apartment of that house in just two days, my (late) Aunt Connie's old living area. After my husband had been working on it for only three weeks.

But leaving this apartment is bitter-sweet. This is where we lived after we were first married. Where we brought our boys home to after they were born. Where they first slept through the night, ate their first bite of cereal and where we fought to teach them how to share. So many memories have been captured between these walls. And now we will begin another journey, the next chapter of our story, just six blocks away.

This little girl, this country bumpkin is moving into her second city dwelling. And it excited about it. Very excited, actually. Gosh, I honestly would have never guessed. Not in a million years.

End of the Episode

My husband and I love watching home improvement shows. It is always neat to watch other people's dreams become reality! Since it's not always possible to see an entire show when it aires, we'll often DVR it so we can watch it later. And sometimes, I'll fast-forward to the very end just so I can see the before/after pictures.

So after working only three weeks on our 'new' apartment, here are a few of the before/after pictures. In other words, I'm fast-forwarding to the end of the episode for you.

The dining room BEFORE on July 7th

The dining room AFTER on July 25th

The living room BEFORE on July 7th

The living room AFTER on July 25th

Another view of the dining/living rooms. My boys LOVED running around their new space!

Boxes are being packed, bins are being labeled and we're making plans for our big moving day in just four more days. There are still minor things that need tweaking at the new apartment, but it's mostly ready. I am very much looking forward to being settled once again! Thank you for your prayers!

Zucchini Patties

There are some foods that I will always associate with summer. Hot dogs. Watermelon. Freezie-Pops. Zucchini Patties. Wait a minute, you've never had zucchini patties? Well, then you've never LIVED!

Alright, that was obviously an exaggeration. But I guarantee you'd add them to your summer favorites after trying this simple recipe! Especially if you grow zucchini in your garden, a vegetable you know that's always growing!

My mom would make zucchini patties on a night we were eating dinner on the grill. While Dad cooked the hot dogs and hamburgers, Mom would whip up these zucchini patties and we'd all burn our hands while eating them straight from the pan! I never remember having any when we sat down to dinner because they were all gone.

Some call them zucchini pancakes - they're essentially the same thing. Pancakes with zucchini, eaten without maple syrup. We had them for dinner last night with hot dogs and sweet corn on the cob. Here's how easy they are.

Zucchini Patties

1 zucchini, washed and grated

1 small vidalia onion, grated

1 egg

1/4 c. parmesan cheese

1 c. Bisquick

salt to taste

Mix all ingredients together in a bowl. This is what it looks like before the Bisquick.

Then add the Bisquick. I had a few willing hands to help stir:

Heat oil in the pan and then add large spoonfuls onto the pan. Let them cook through.

Flip when they're done (I cooked these a little too long, but they were still good!) Once they're flipped, flatten them with a spatula to be sure there's no batter left inside.

Take off of the heat once both sides are cooked. Put on a paper-towel covered plate and wait until they cool to serve. They go quickly! My boys can't get enough of them!

Walkthrough Wows

We had our walkthrough tonight, where our new owner took his last tour of our house as a guest. The next time he comes, he'll be the landlord.

The dining room is lined with bins. Labeled bins, of course. There are eighteen of them, lined three high and six across. Plus six more in the living room. There are dozens more in the attic, but this is a start. If you have any doubt that the people in this house are making plans to relocate, you needn't look further than the front door.

Brian, the new owner, came tonight with his mom, sister and his realtor. After they left, Andy and I regrouped and chatted about their visit. We laughed about some of the "wows" we heard during the walkthrough. Each one made me laugh.

"Wow, you're young."

Brian's mom hadn't met Andy before - just me and the boys - and she obviously had her own ideas about what this handy man was like. The man that poured his blood, sweat and tears into every inch of this apartment to make it comfortable for his soon-to-be-wife. She was convinced that such a skilled man was mature in years. At least more than thirty-five years young. I thought this honest statement was absolutely hilarious (and definitely made Andy feel pretty good about himself!)

"Wow, you're really organized."

Hmm. Must've been the labels on the bins. I love my labels. I love my bins. Or perhaps it was the shelving unit in the boys' room with their toys in Ziploc bags inside canvas totes. Yeah. I'm sure it was because of one of those things.

"Wow, you really do have a lot of stuff."

This observation came from Brian's sister after she saw the crazy amount of bins and equipment and furniture and empty boxes in the attic. Yup. We've got kids. Therefore, we've got a lotta stuff. Andy teased that we were candidates for the show "Hoarders" and they all laughed. Hard. "Wait a minute," he teased, "it wasn't that funny!"

And so the journey continues. We will sign some papers tomorrow that will acknowledge Brian as our new landlord. We will pay him rent for the rest of this month and then move into our apartment by August 1st. After tomorrow, our house will not be our own.

Wow.

Destination: Six Blocks Away

I'm not exactly sure where I pictured we would be when we first started this house process three months ago, but I never could have imagined it ending quite this way.

We still haven't found a house. We looked at hundreds of houses online, dozens of them in person and seriously considered three of them. For many different reasons, however, nothing felt quite right. It felt like we were the ones pushing it along, not the Lord. We looked at our calendar and felt ourselves pushing some more. C'mon, we thought, we've got three months. Three months for everything to fall into place and move ito the house of our dreams.

We wondered if we had made the right move. Was it too early to have sold our house? Should we have found a place first and then went through the process of putting our house on the market? No. We had had a peace about the timing of the process, we were acting within our real estate agent's advice and within both sets of parents' wisdom. It had been time for us to move on. We needed something with a kitchen on the first floor, more bedrooms and more living space. This family of four was simply outgrowing our two-bedroom apartment.

Despite our efforts, time kept closing in on us. My husband decided to build us a second option in case we weren't successful in finding a place in time. After some thought and prayer, he called my Great Aunt Mary and Uncle Ron, who live in my great-grandma's house just six blocks from us. They live on the second floor of a double, where the bottom apartment is vacant since my other great aunt died more than a year ago. It would need some work, but we knew it was a good back-up plan in case we needed more time to find our house. They were THRILLED about the prospect of having us rent from them, not to mention the work Andy would do to clean it up to make it more comfortable.

Fewer and fewer houses came on the market and we wondered if we would need much more time than we had anticipated. Andy called my Aunt Mary and started making plans to move in after our new buyer closes on our apartment.

Long story short? We've moving. In three weeks.

The buyer will have his final walkthrough in our apartment this Sunday and we're scheduled to close on Monday. Andy will continue working on our "transition apartment" and we'll move by August 1st. Thankfully, we had been able to stay here more than a month after closing, though we'll be turning in the keys a month early. Not only is he cleaning it up - an apartment that's quite a bit larger than our current one - but he's plastering the closets, tearing up the carpet to refurbish the old hardwood and installing a stackable washer/dryer on our floor, a dishwasher and a garbage disposal. Just to make it comfortable for me. Sigh. He loves me. And did I mention the apartment has a HUGE master bedroom? And three bedrooms? And it's on the first floor? And it has air conditioning? Yeah. I think we're going to be veeeeery comfortable.

So in the next few weeks, I am organizing cupboards, sifting through bins and making our weekly menus out of the items in my freezer and cupboards. It's not how I imagined things to work out, but it's better than I had expected. Now we'll have plenty of time to look for a house without worrying about a lease or going through the process of buying/selling until we're ready. And, we'll be staying in a house that has seen five generations of my mom's extended family, with a very grateful aunt and uncle upstairs.

God. Is. Good.

Identical, But Not the Same

People assume because the boys are (most likely) identical twins, they're exactly the same. It's true, they really are very similar. "But can YOU tell them apart?" people ask. Of course. Usually. I'd say most of the time. At least 99% anyway. Their faces do look very different to me - Jack has a longer face, whereas Ben's face is more round - but I have the hardest time when they're both wet and naked in the bathtub. Or they have hats on and they're in the same exact outfit. But the moment I see them make a face, run or talk, I know right away who it is. "So you can identify them from their cries?" Um, no. I honestly can't. The boys share a room and the only way I can tell who's crying is by locating where the sound is coming from. Or if they start talking. Even then, I can identify which one it is by what they're saying, not the sound of their voice.

In the womb, Jack was Baby A and ultimately, born first. He was a mover, constantly flipping, turning and kicking. I swear, my stretch marks are bigger on my left side because of my Jonathan! (No wonder the cord was wrapped around his body when it was time for them to come out!) Ben, my Baby B, on the other hand, rarely kicked. I counted his heartbeats frequently to be sure he was alright since I didn't feel him move like I did his brother! When they were born, there was more than a pound difference between them, Ben always being bigger. Jack had significantly more hair. Ben liked to be held, whereas Jack seemed to enjoy his space. Jack was an aggressive eater, while Ben fell asleep during feedings. Especially since they each had their own sac, I was convinced they were fraternal.

During months three through nine, however, I started to change my tune. That's when they looked the most similar to me and there was never more than a few ounces difference between them.

At their two-year well visit, the boys weighed and measured exactly the same. More recently, Jack has been eating like crazy, whereas Ben prefers to get his calories from liquid. This was exactly the opposite a year ago. They are constantly flipping. But even though they tend to flip-flop all the time, I'm finding there are some things I can always count on.

If I hear "oh-weeeo, oh-weeeo, oh-weeeo" coming from the boys' room, it's probably Jack. If I hear, "mom!" it's Ben.

Jack is usually chasing, Ben is usually being chased.

Ben is the first one to get up from watching television after twenty minutes to find me folding clothes, whereas Jack could stay there for hours, completely mezmerized.

Jack loves to dribble his big bouncy ball, but Ben has more patience with a mitt, batt and glove.

Jack is a jumper. Ben has remarkable balance.

Ben is more likely to make silly noises and faces into the mirror. Jack is more likely to carry a bug between his fingers all through the house.

Ben doesn't like to leave the house without (at least trying to grab) a small toy to take with him. Jack is usually ready and waiting at the door.

Ben is more likely to collapse into my arms with a hug. Jack is more likely to play with my hair.

Ben can hide for minutes without moving a muscle in order to scare his prey (i.e. his daddy.) Jack gets too excited and reveals himself once his daddy is within earshot.

Jack is more likely to go to his daddy, nana or grandpa, whereas Ben almost always chooses his mommy.

Ben is almost always smiling and loves hamming it up for the camera. Jack, on the other hand, seems confused why he's being forced to show his teeth for a big black piece of technology. Ben poses. I can only get candid smiling shots of Jack.

Jack likes protein. Ben likes carbs.

When they hold their sippy cups, Jack holds it with his left hand and twirls his hair with his right. Ben holds it with his right hand and twirls his hair with his left.

Jack has a fat roll on his right leg. Ben has a fat roll on his left.

When they're doing puzzles, Ben systematically pulls out each piece and places them neatly beside himself before replacing each piece into its spot. Jack, on the other hand, dumps out the puzzle between his legs, then enjoys scavenging through the pile to find the correct piece before returning it to its correct position. Then they switch puzzles and repeat the same process.

Ben likes to be chased, but only Jack likes being caught.

To convince Ben to get his diaper changed, I need only ask him if he's poopy or wet. "Wet. Poop," he responds and comes running over to be cleaned and he sits marvelously. To convince Jack, however, I must first deny him of an activity until he gets changed. "You want to color with markers? Okay, first, you have to get your diaper changed." They both have to want to be cleaned and do not like to be told what to do. They must get that from their daddy ;)

Jack will work at one activity until it is perfected. Ben walks up when Jack is done and expects to get the same result the first time.

Jack finds the activity, Ben joins him.

At times, I feel like Ben thinks Jack is his baby. He is such a sweet caretaker.

When they hear the door downstairs opening (signaling Daddy's arrival from work,) they both run in circles. Ben, however, lands in my lap while Jack finishes at the door and is the first to greet him.

As helpful as it is to categorize your kids, label them as "the outgoing one" or "the shy one" or (worse yet,) "the good one" or "the evil one," I really try and shy away from that. I don't want to be quick to place my boys in a box that they may feel forced to abandon one day. But it is helpful to make observations about the things each of my boys like so I can better channel their strengths for the future. In the meantime, I really am enjoying getting to know my little men. They are both such a blessing and I love every little difference - and similarity - between them!