Dear Kidney Stone,

Dear Kidney Stone and Stent,
This picture of Ella is how I feel when I think about you. You have brought nothing but pain and heartache since you started moving 9 weeks ago. Yes, 9 long weeks - Im keeping track. Ridiculous that something as tiny as you can make such a huge impact...but wait haven't I learned that lesson already? Yes, I believe 3 teeny babies schooled me on that theory.

Speaking of lessons, I suppose I need to thank you, or at least acknowledge you, for opening my eyes to a few other things over the last few weeks.

1) My independence is not that important. Sometimes it is nice to rely on others, to hand over the reins, and to be taken care of.

2) My kids are way more independent than I thought. And in the last few weeks they have become even more so. This new found "I can do it" attitude has been awesome to watch and their big smiles and bursting pride is worth a little pain. And just maybe my rushing to help and impatience to just get it done in the past, has been a little bit stifling...maybe.

3) My husband is awesome and capable and strong and caring and if there was ever a moment I doubted any of that, these last few weeks there have been a bazillion examples.

I think this list could go on and on, but thanks to you Mr. Stone, I need to go pee again. Although I am grateful to have learned some life lessons, I would like you to get out now. NOW! This Monday, I would like you to cooperate with the surgeon and exit my body. Leave everything else intact and don't even think of messing with this kicking baby boy. I would like to return home to my family my old self, with just a little added wisdom.

Good Riddens -
Lauren

Cheese!

Hey Tyler, this funny face?

It's not so funny anymore. Please stop doing it whenever you see the camera.

Seriously.

Remembering

Mike and I had a car ride to ourselves this weekend and the chatting was oh so nice - as in uninterrupted. Of course our chat included some talk of our kids, how could it not?! Somehow we found ourselves remembering the first night home from the hospital with Drew. I figured I should write it down...

Let's preface the tale by saying we had lost part of our minds. The other half to this story is that our new baby girl was laying in an incubator hooked to IVs and monitors some 30 minutes away. There was still no explanation as to what may be wrong with her or when/if she would be well enough to come home.

But, we had Drew home. And we were thankful. And we were more than nervous. So, as bedtime arrived Mike began to set up the co-sleeper that would attach to our bed. Drew would sleep there, as close as possible so that I could feed and monitor him all night. One hitch - the silly thing wouldn't set up correctly. We all tried, but couldn't get it done.

Now here is where our less than stellar mental and emotional state is so obvious. There were a million solutions and options for sleeping. The one we chose? I had Mike push both cribs against the wall in the nursery and then squeeze our full size bed onto the floor of the teeny room. Then I placed the contoured changing pad on the floor next to us, and that is how Drew spent his first night at home. Yes, he slept on the floor at 3 days old, in December. Maybe that is why he is so interested in camp outs!

Rookies.