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I feel like everything happens for a reason. I feel that God places certain people in your life at certain times, forms situations at specific instances for crazy purposes, and just basically gives you a dose of something you need just when you need it. Even if you don’t realize you need it. I was shown this again yesterday after our family’s Thanksgiving dinner.

Let’s take a step back. I am a woman. It is ingrained in me to have a desperate need to be loved, accepted, cherished, and protected. I believe as a woman two people are meant to fulfill that need (other than God) in a special was in her life, her father and her husband. I have scattered and broken memories of my father ever fulfilling that need. Memories of uncertainty and hurt are weaved throughout my past. Luckily when I was 11, God sent me a step father (whom I refer to as my “dad”) to take care of me and my family. Without a doubt I am convinced he was the best thing God had given me at that time. I was able to see how a husband should love a wife. How a father should treat his children. How a man should be. He stepped in a became something I hadn’t had before. He carried the load of a mother and her three children and happily and graciously provided for them. But, even though I received that gift I was still left with feelings of bitterness, emptiness, brokenness, pain, and anger from past years. Oh, anger. It will probably always be something I struggle with. It cuts deep when I hear of men forsaking their families. It pains me to hear stories of fathers leaving and never providing for their children. They are cowards. And they Will answer for that one day…see the anger?! Don’t worry me and God are working of forgiveness too ;) It is a journey that God has taken me through the last 14+ years and he will have to continually lead me to let go and move on.

So I sat Thanksgiving night with my sisters, mom, and aunt talking about life and how grateful we are for the blessings we’ve received and the topic of what women need arose. God is great, he meets those needs, etc. My sister played us a video that we had all heard once before and although it was touching the first time I had seen it, (because my dear husband sent it, how sweet is that?!) it took on a whole entire new meaning. It was there sitting at the kitchen table, while the man spoke of how we were worthy of love and how amazing we were and how special we were regardless of who thought it because GOD thought it, it struck me just how affected I was by the absence of yet another phone call telling me “Happy any-specific-holiday”. It is strange how we think we are “ok” or how we tell ourselves it’s “no big deal”, yet it is. “It” was a big deal yesterday. Because yet again, a small piece of me thought to myself, “nope, not important enough this year…like all the other years…that I would get even a text”. It may have been a small piece, but it was a large enough piece that it still hurt and that rejection crept back in. That moment it hit me hard. I’m guessing all us hormonal women were watching that video and crying for different reasons. I was crying because God spoke to me at the moment and he said that I WAS worthy, and special, and important, and valuable, and basically that I was fearfully and wonderfully made REGARDLESS of what anybody would ever say. We as woman, as human beings, HAVE to get that in our spirits. We are valued and loved! He died for us because we were that awesome.

I began to think about how my daughter would never deal with what I dealt with. She will never feel the sting of rejection from her dad. My husband would go to the moon for his baby girl and give her everything she would ever need. He would never forsake her. And for that, I will always cherish him. Luckily I didn’t sleep around looking for love and acceptance in the wrong places, or find drugs to try to fill the void, or end up pregnant as a young teenager because I needed something to make a man stay with me, etc etc, God sent me my Brian when I was 15 and shielded me from all those crazy ways to look for acceptance because he loved me unconditionally from that moment and did cherish and protect me. He swept me off my feet and treated me like a queen. And I could always see how he did value me. Between him and my step dad…well they probably saved me from a lot. God’s workings are everywhere. In big things and in small. At the that time in my life I don’t think I valued them as much as a do today. I was shown many awesome things when my step dad came into my life. And I was also shown many awesome things when God gave me Brian. Because of them my daughter can have a better life. This Thanksgiving I was thankful for something new. Something that I had never thought of before. God revealed the extreme importance of the 2 best men in my life. I am forever and deeply grateful for both of them.

For those of you wondering, and even if you aren’t wondering ;) ….here is the video I was referring to. It is an amazing reflection on who God thinks we are and what he thinks of us.

http://www.godtube.com/watch/?v=01BBFJNU

You are beautiful, you are smart, you are funny, you are kind, your unique

You are worthy of LOVE and AFFECTION, you are never too much and you are always enough

you are precious, you are a Diamond a Rose a Pearl, the most stunning of all God‘s Creations

YOU are worth more than you can ever imagine

your worth more than the numbers on a scale or the hair product you use or the shoes you wear

more than how many girls wish they were you or how many guys wish they had you

more than the price tags on your clothes or the percentage on the top of your math test

or even the number of followers you have on Twitter

Your Worth surpasses ALL EARTHLY THINGS because in the eyes of the Lord God, you are LOVED

You are Worth dying for, regardless of Who YOU think You are

whether you model in a magazine or you model pottery with grandma

whether your on the Hot list or the Not list, whether your head cheerleader or a high school drop out

whether your miss popular or you never had ANYONE you can call a FRIEND

whether you love yourself or love your life or you cant stand to look in the mirror

and you feel as if everything in your life is falling apart

whether your such a winner or you feel like the worlds biggest failure

regardless of who you think you are the reality is You Deserve Someone who will give up their LIFE for you

because YOU are POWERFUL and STRONG and CAPABLE

Read about the WOMEN in the BIBLE, ESTHER, RUTH, MARTHA, MARY

these women Changed the world FOREVER

and inside of you EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU is a women with that same POWER

and that same STRENGTH and that SAME WORLD CHANGING CAPABILITY

and your responsibility is to find that women and SET THAT WOMEN FREE

This is WHO YOU ARE

and any voices in your mind try to tell you differently are from the ENEMY

and the next time you hear that voice you say NOT ME SATAN I am the Daughter of the LIVING GOD

CHERISHED, LOVED AND ADORED ABOVE ALL THINGS BY THE CREATOR OF ALL THINGS

FOR THE GLORY OF ALL THINGS

I AM AWESOME

PLEASE DON’T YOU FORGET IT”

-Jon Jorgenson 


I hate country music. Once my husband made me go to a country singer’s concert and the guy sang this song. I don’t even know who it was…that is how much I tried to block the pain from my past. IT WAS THAT BAD. But I did remember that song. And it just seemed so fitting today. I was so desperate to be pregnant again. To fill the void I felt was left inside me months ago. Month after month since our miscarriage we hopefully took pregnancy tests and waited for the famous “two pink lines”. For the last 6 months we had just received disappointment so when I took a home pregnancy test six weeks ago and got…well, 2 pink lines, I didn’t know exactly what to feel. In the first instant I was immediately flooded with fear. FEAR. Holding my 2 year old I just sat worried it would happen again. What if it did? Would I be able to deal with it better if it happened again? Because quite frankly I felt like I was an emotional mess. Completely and utterly a mess. Along with those fears, came feelings of guilt. How could I be excited about this baby? The baby that couldn’t be here if it hadn’t been for the fact that I lost the other. How could I really be excited about this baby? How was that fair to my baby in heaven? But then I felt guilty for not being as excited as I felt like I should be for THIS baby NOW. This baby deserved excitement throughout the pregnancy. This baby deserved the thrill. Going through this in my mind I got angry all over again. I was never going to be able to have a “normal” pregnancy again. There was always going to be fear that something would happen or that they weren’t going to be able to find the heartbeat again. This pregnancy and any other in the future would never be blissful in ignorance. I am way more educated now than ever before that so many things could go wrong. That angers me. I am just going to be blunt. It pisses me off.

In the past few weeks it’s like I couldn’t get excited. I couldn’t let myself get attached, because I needed to be prepared that something could happen again. In past pregnancies the second I found out I was pregnant there were immediately texts, facebook posts, pictures of pregnancy tests, phone calls…with this one, I told the bare minimum. And again, I felt guilty for not shouting it from the roof tops. In some ways it wasn’t that I was even worried something would happen. It was that I hadn’t really processed it. I had JUST came to comprehend weeks before that there was no longer a baby inside me. Now there was, which felt so sudden. People at my doctor’s office (whom I absolutely ADORE!!) would say, “I’m so happy for you.” And I would reply, “Thanks, we’re excited.” But honestly, I can’t say that I was truly “excited”, more like a mixture of sad/worried/angry/happy/shocked. This may not make any sense to most people. So many comments have been made about me being only 12 weeks when I lost the other baby, etc, but today as I sat and watched my ultrasound at 10 weeks it really occurred to me the depth of our loss. At a mere 10 weeks that baby danced, moved, and waved its little arm and leg buds. Its heart beat sounded loud and strong. It was life. And although that was reason to give a sigh of relief and reason to be grateful, it was also enough to remind me of the life that ended a few months ago. The entire time I was at my appointment, which lasted almost 3 hours, I wanted to just go in a room alone for a while and think. And process. And maybe even cry. There were so many emotions felt in such a short time. What if this harmed my bond with my baby? I didn’t ever think I could be one of those mothers who wasn’t madly in love with her newborn, but what if I was?? I can’t not love all my children the same! They all must be equally wanted. So much guilt. Talking to other women who have gone through things like this helps but I’m still worried.

But you know what…as much as I am worried, feeling guilty, or angry I am taken back to the first few weeks of my miscarriage. I am reminded of the flood of grace, love, strength, and peace God gave me. I always had a still voice telling me that he “had” this. He did it then and he’ll do it again. I truly believe that. The hurt got endurable. The pain eased. The anger faded. The fear lessened. And the sadness, well that will always be there, but knowing my maker is holding my baby and has blessed me with another one to walk along side me gives me hope. Something that this lost world needs.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” -Jeremiah 29:11


It’s been two weeks since my D&C. Thinking back a week ago I am significantly different at this point than I was then. For one, I’ve been a little angry with God. I keep finding myself asking him why exactly he took my baby. Millions of abortions are conducted, there are teen moms that don’t want their kids, drug and alcohol users that mess their kids up so badly while pregnant that those precious children are never able to function fully, and women who leave their babies in dumpsters, yet I lost my baby. I am not parent of the year but I’m a dang good mom. I wanted this baby. I planned for this baby, tried for it, would have been able to take care of it and give it what it needed. And I am the one who loses her child. I praise God for my happy, healthy children and thank him I didn’t lose one of them or wasn’t farther along. But I just can’t help but to get…frustrated, I guess that’s the word. I just can’t help but to be frustrated with God over his decision. The christian in me sees that he has a bigger picture and that he probably spared us from a child that was said to be severely disabled if carried to term. The momma in me sees that ultrasound picture and remembers the heart beat and aches to have that baby here and doesn’t give a flip if it had any sort of disability. Yea that would take work, but I would take that option in a second. It’s easy to say that though I guess. Having only ever worked briefly with special needs children through Sunday School and substituting, that life doesn’t seem as bad because I’ve never lived it fully….

This week I’ve had the privilege to be the craft teacher for our first graders at Vacation Bible School. Our theme is “Colossal Coaster World”. Looking back months ago when I had heard that theme I had no idea just how fitting it would be for me right now. I am literally an emotional roller coaster. If I am not sobbing in the bath tub, I am feeling down right terrible for acting happy around others. I feel guilty to be happy. Like everyone around is thinking, “Gee look at her being all happy after just losing her baby.” It seems to be one extreme or the other. If I’m not worried about being too cheerful, I’m hearing things like, “you should be thankful for the children you already have”, “you’re having a pity party for yourself”, or “ I’m not sure why you were so attached you were only 11 weeks”, because I’m being too sad. People just have no idea the power their words hold. They can truly make or break you if you let them. Although I feel like I am a tough person and fairly strong, this has made me feel like a basket case. I can’t even see it coming. The first Sunday I went back to church I thought I would feel strong and uplifted through the service. I didn’t even make it to the first 30 minutes of that service. I sat in the bathroom and sobbed. The overwhelming sympathetic looks and “how are you’s” were awful. I wanted to sink in a hole. Not walk down the center aisle of church to find my husband and praise God next to him.

But considering how the first week went I guess I’m better. I am better at holding it together in front of people. I am better while asking God the “why’s”. And I guess I’m better at just coping with it all. I think so at least. Family tells me I’m doing well, but I wonder how exactly people are supposed to cope with this. What exactly is normal? What exactly is too extreme? When does it become a blur of the past, if ever?


Three months ago we discovered I was pregnant. Always wanting a large family and feeling that babies were a huge blessing from the Lord, we were ecstatic. The mother in me began planning and envisioning how things were going to be having four. We were so excited. The baby’s due date was December 18, 2013. Just in time for Christmas.

Two days ago I went to the doctor for a routine check up. It was going to be a quick prenatal appointment. The doctor placed the doppler on my stomach to hear a heart beat but there wasn’t one. Thinking maybe it was too faint to pick up, we went to do an ultrasound. Having had many ultrasounds in the past I knew what a “normal” baby should look like. The heart wasn’t beating. I knew right away but for some reason I thought it was unlikely that MY baby wasn’t alive. Somehow I must be immune to the statistic that miscarriages happen frequently. I wasn’t though. We spent 30 minutes watching that little miracle stand still inside my womb. Just as my world seemed to stand still. Pain happened instantly. Brokenness and sorrow. Anger and confusion.

Within 24 hours we were in the hospital room waiting for surgery. A surgery that would involve people pulling my baby from me. My perfect little baby, innocent and fragile would be removed from my womb. Words can’t explain the emotional roller coaster that is involved with miscarriage. Miscarriage. It’s such a funny word. So surreal.

I sit here now and I feel so empty. I wasn’t prepared for the emptiness. I feel so incomplete. 3 days ago I got a satisfaction knowing I had life growing in me. A life that was supposed to be there 6 more months. It’s so confusing why God lets these things happen. Why he decided to take my angel far too quickly. I take joy in knowing that His plans are far better than our own.

I am so grateful for my amazing husband. I always knew he was a wonderful guy but going through this I’ve seen just how amazing he is. He’s carried me through all the pain. I’m also blessed to have a remarkable family that has been so supportive along with friends who have offered constant prayers and remorse. Without these people and my peace giving Lord there’s no way I could have troupered through this. I’m so very thankful for all of them.

I have a new understanding for the pain and emptiness miscarriage leaves. I guess that will allow me in the future to give love and support to other women suffering.

A letter to my Little One:

Little One,

Emptiness. That’s what I feel. Emptiness. For 9 weeks I knew you were there. Enough time to think of your future. Enough time to dream about what you would be like. I already loved you. I grew attached to you. You were part of me. And now you’re gone. You’re no longer growing inside me. No longer taking breathes inside my womb. And I feel empty. Without you here with me I feel broken in so many ways. Incomplete. Like life is missing something. I did get to meet you though. I got to see you. They brought you to me. Although some would say you didn’t look much like a baby, I thought you were perfect. I helped create you. I was proud of how beautiful you were. As I stared at you I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that there was a God. You were a miracle. I was glad I got that chance. So many don’t.

 I know you’re in Heaven. In much better company, but I miss you. I feel sort of selfish because I’m a little mad that you aren’t still here. I’m mad that I won’t get to find out what you were or feel you move. Or hear your precious heartbeat again. I won’t get to hold you wrapped in a soft blanket or see you smile or hear you giggle. There are so many things I’m not going to experience. And I’m mad about that. It’s not fair. But I guess life isn’t fair. I must trust that God knew why He chose to take you. He knew better than I did. There was a reason He thought you would do better with Him than me. That’s hard to grasp. It just makes me sad. I guess if I had to chose, I would chose to be with Him. He will take care of you. I know He will.

 Although there are so many things I don’t understand, I know that you were special. I know that you were unique and I am thankful I got to carry you for the little time I had. I would do it again and again even knowing the outcome. And although I feel empty, God will fill me. I would be filled little by little knowing that you are being taken care of. He can shield you from the hurt of this world. He can protect you from the darkness. I can not do that and for that I am grateful. You get to be with Jesus every single second of your life away from me. That is pretty awesome. I will always try to think of how you are whole now. Completely whole. That will get me through the hard times. I miss you, Little One and I will always love you.

Love,

Mommy


I am the squirrel lady. Well, I feel that way anyway… I have accumulated orphan, baby squirrels. Three to be exact. “Hey J” (originally named “AJ” but the kids like “Hey J” better) is our oldest. He is about 13 weeks old. I’ve had him about 8 weeks now. I received him from a friend who’d found him outside her house and didn’t have the time to devote to him. I got the other two (Lavern and Shirley) from a friend whose husband cut down a tree with their nest attached. Knowing that I used to rehabilitate my friend called me asking if I would take them. So here I am with baby squirrels.

So, I officially have 6 children. Squirrels eat about every 3-4 hours. If I’m not nursing a baby or feeding toddlers, I’m hand feeding milk to squirrels. Sigh. It’s a tiring job, but very fun :) Today was the day that Hey J officially got to be “let go”. There comes a time in every squirrel’s life that you open the cage door and allow them to run free and be a squirrel. In theory this sounds wonderful, but to Hey J it wasn’t all that great. You see, he doesn’t know he’s a squirrel. I think he thinks he is a person. The first time I saw a leaf he was amazed with it and kept smelling it and pawing it on the ground. When I tried to set him on a tree in the front yard he climbed for a second, came right back down, ran up the porch then into the house. It took much persuasion but he is now frollicing in the woods behind the house. Well, climbing up and down 3 or 4 particular trees. He won’t go far. But it is nice looking out my kitchen window and seeing him.

However, I have to admit,  I am worried about him. He’s become a part of the family and watching him grow and now releasing him is bitter sweet. He deserves a wonderful squirrel life full of jumps and climbs and acorns, but I am concerned about dogs, cars, other squirrels, people who may get too close and him climbing up their leg to sit on their shoulder… I guess I have to just accept that it’s time for him to be free. My mom said to me today, “Honey, you have to give him to God.” I’ve prayed more for that dumb squirrel in the last two days…. To think, I get to go through this 2 more times with Lavern and Shirley. And one day I get to go through it with actual human beings. Joy Joy!

Lavern when she first opened her eyes (5 weeks)

Lavern and Shirley (2 weeks)

Hey J (7 weeks)


What an eventful day. Today a photo from the TIME Magazine surfaced for all the world to see. The photo was of a woman proudly standing while breastfeeding her 3 year old son, who was standing on a stool to reach her breast. The headline read, “Are you mom enough?” You would have thought that photo was of something more provocative than anything you could think up. The uproar it caused was unreal. Of course, TIME got what they wanted, lots of attention. And I will admit, a ton of it was from me. I heard attack, after attack, and I had to write down ALL of my cooped up thoughts before they grew, festered and got me into trouble.

I am proud to be a breastfeeding momma, who is also a Certified Lactation Educator. I will stand for all to see and boast the benefits of breastfeeding. I will offer support, encouragement, teach about the topic, and just basically be apparently what is called “obsessed”. All that trickled out of me today. All. Of. It.

I’ve heard so many different remarks today regarding this. I’ve heard people that were disturbed about the child’s age. I used to be one to say that after a year, it was just way too old to be doing something like that. But now I view it so differently. It is the MOTHER’s business how long she decides to breastfeed. It is so much more than nutrition. It is about your child being made to feel secure, warm, and comforted. I came to the conclusion, that in this specific area of the topic, there is nothing you can say to someone to convince them of this. We all want to be accepted, normal. And normal isn’t necessarily feeding your child by the breast well into the toddler years as it is in so many other places. We are basically the ONLY country who doesn’t automatically feed our child breast milk until at least the age of 2. Yep, the only one. So because we aren’t accustomed to seeing that every day, we cast judgment and say it’s weird or they’re too old or call it sick. Hmmm, maybe we are missing the mark?

I heard someone say that it’s fine as long as we breastfeed discretely and cover up. Well once again I used to agree with them there. That is until I heard about poor women who couldn’t even do that without being asked to leave public places, get weird looks, or just basically be talked to like they were disgusting. So let me get this straight, we can put bare breasts in movies and expose one by “accident” with a pastie over the nipple and call that ok. We can adorn them with lace and place them on a Victoria Secret’s billboard. We can show our extreme cleavage with basically everything showing. And we can get beads for flashing them but if one is just a little exposed doing what GOD CREATED them to do, it should be covered with a large piece of fabric so no one will know what’s going on? Yea, I’d say we were missing the mark. I’ll let you know that I think I should have respect for my husband and keep that same level of respect for other men around me but come on, if they weren’t viewed to be so sexually than most of this wouldn’t even be a problem. Like I said before, they were food long before they were play things…right?

I also heard, and this is my ultimate favorite, that we should not disgrace the womanly race and go into a bathroom or to a car or something and not do it in front of anyone. I will admit, I had to seriously bite my tongue at his one. Oh buddy, you need to know that I will NEVER, EVER, EVER feed my child in a bathroom. How bout you eat your dinner in a bathroom. We’ll leave it at that.

It boils down to this. I am not a fan of “how” TIME went about the approach of the topic. I wish that breastfeeding could be promoted without a woman feeling or looking cheap, “natzi-ish”, weird, etc. I feel as though TIME, knowing that they’d get a lot of attention, would have sought after that attention with the importance of breastfeeding in mind, rather than wanting the drama. Breastfeeding is an EXTREMELY important topic. It is something that we desperately need to raise awareness of. It is a topic that could potentially save millions of lives in many ways. Statistics prove that breastfeeding lowers the risk of diabetes, heart disease, ovarian cancer, and breast cancer in women, and does the same plus lowers obesity, the risk for certain childhood cancers, along with so many other things for babies. I am worried people for and not-so-for breastfeeding are definitely missing the mark. To me the photo isn’t about who she is, how old the kid is, what she is wearing, or her history. To me when I see it it is about breastfeeding. It is about a human’s natural instinct to provide for their young. An instinct that is instilled from birth. You can’t get around it, there is no denying that breastfeeding is the absolute best. Education is key to mommas everywhere, awareness and encouragement are essential for women to accomplish this phenomenal journey. Let’s not belittle it and let’s not pretend that it’s not an extremely important topic. And in the words of my cousin, let’s not act this is new, like we invented it or made it up. Let’s realize that it’s a natural occurrence to continue life. Breastfeeding is at an all time high. But it’s not high enough because when we see that type of thing we are still missing the mark. We are worried of what others are thinking, busy judging, and simply being ignorant.


Do you ever just sit. Just sit and feel guilty about it?

I sit here and think of all the things that need to be done—laundry needs to be folded and put away, Levi’s 6 month pajamas need to be pulled out and the smaller size put away, dishes need to be washed, clothes need to be layed out for tomorrow, bedroom needs straightening up…the list goes on. And those are just the things that need to be done now, tonight. Car needs a bath, inside and out, porch needs painting, garden needs to be planted, utility room needs to be organized, my yard looks terrible and needs major work…ugh! I sit here and I’m exhausted. Kids are finally in bed, I’m worn out yet not tired enough to go to bed, which I need to do since I’m averaging about 5 hours of decent sleep a night. Levi is doing worse waking up for feedings than he did when he was a newborn. If I think about it too much I will get teary eyed. Not because I can’t handle motherhood, because I feel like I’m ok at that. Teary eyed because I feel like I’m not handling my life like it should be handled. Shouldn’t I be able to do all those things and not be tired? Shouldn’t I be able to do those things, cook dinner every night, have a clean house, homeschool my kids, not lose it every 30 minutes on them, have a decent looking yard and still pull myself together to look decent and not be in my pj’s when my husband gets home? Are we as mothers failing if these things aren’t done? Facebook moms tend to make us feel that way right? The mothers who have all that and whose statuses are uplifting and filled with joy and happiness. Some days I want to make my own status: today I don’t like my husband, my kids are getting on my nerves, my house is a mess, I’m dealing with postpartum depression, I’m still in my pj’s and I’m ordering a pizza for dinner because I freaking don’t want to leave this stupid house. Too honest?

Some days I feel like I should be a million times better at my life. Days like today. I sit here and I feel guilty about it. And then I tell myself that I am doing the best I can. Mothers need to just sit. Sitting is good. Sitting strengthens you physically and mentally! And the days that I fail, my kids will forgive me, my husband will forgive me, the day will end and a new one will begin, and I will get another chance to fix all the little things that need “fixin”. That gives me hope.


The dinosaur sensory box was a huge success! Noah LOVED it! When Berkeley woke up from her nap he went on and on telling her about how he found dinosaur eggs! It was great! :)


SO glad I did this! My box included:

  • a clear, plastic container
  • sand, pebbles, and beans for different dino turf textures
  • a glass bowl with water to represent a lake
  • twigs to add a foresty feel
  • leaves to make a dinosaur nest
  • a plant to make it look a little exotic
  • dino eggs (recipe in previous post)
  • lots of baby dinosaurs

Noah dove right in after I had him do some dinosaur worksheets!


Lately we’ve begun talking about dinosaurs! Noah isn’t all that impressed with them, but he seems to like them enough to use them as a teaching tool. So, we are using them to talk about the letter ‘D’ and I’m incorporating some scientific stuff in there too :)

‘D’ is for Dinosaur

 

Having a mother that is an Austism Consultant for our county school system, I have been made very much aware of sensory play and have started making sensory boxes. I see the value of sensory items in special needs children and also see that they are very much important with all children! I saw something like this on Pinterest and played until I could create my own.

I used a clear drawer (that I plan to put back when I’m done :) ) for my ”box”. I added sand, beans (for pebbles), a bowl of water, some twigs, plants, mini dinos, and created a nest for my dinosaur eggs. These were REALLY easy to make and I’m so excited for Noah to crack them open!

                       

Dino Eggs

Mix the following:

  • 1 cup of coffee grinds
  • 1/2 cup of salt
  • 1/4 cup of sand
  • 1 cup of flour
  • 3/4 cup of water

Knead until it forms a dough, then shape it around objects to create fun filled eggs. I let mine dry about 4 days and it was the perfect consistency! I bought little plastic dinosaurs from the dollar store and made dino eggs :)

I’ve also gotten together a few worksheets that have a dinosaur theme and gathered some books (fun and educational) to use. I came across a preschool dinosaur pack and it’s great. There’s lots of prewriting work, matching, sorting, etc in it.  I laminated them too so I can use it later for Berkeley and am very pleased with it. You can find it at www.overthebigmoon.com. It’s going to be a fun week!

 

 


Don’t you just love those situations that uplift you as a mother and send you to the moon?! I do! And tonight just that happened to me :)

We were eating dinner at Cracker Barrel tonight and my husband got up to go to the bathroom. A lady that I had barely noticed approached me as I was holding Levi and told me that she had just been talking to her husband and had to talk to me. She said that she had been watching me and my kids and was so impressed with how they were acting. That they were all so very young yet well behaved, something you tend to see so rarely nowadays. Wow! Those simple few sentences were so inspiring to me. Days and days and days and days…and days of getting onto my children to do better while out in public seemed to be paying off. Now I will admit, it was a very pleasant trip. Rarely do nights out for dinner go so well but I will say my kids were doing pretty well. Especially when you consider that they are 4, 2, and 6 months.

It’s just so uplifting when, as a mom, you are given such a great compliment! It just makes you feel like all that you are striving to pour into your children is being taken in and comprehended by them. Mommas need that type of encouragement. It’s something that really helps us to keep striving to be the best we can be and gives us the strength to keep on pouring into our children what we want them to learn!

When Brian came back I told him what she had said to me. Then I looked at him and asked if he was ready to go because I wanted to leave with that woman still thinking we were great before we had some sort of incident…