The Davis kids

My kids are my world. They truly are. I live and breathe to see them happy, smiling, and laughing. 

I also know that sometimes my kids are the very reason I want to poke my eyeballs out. 

 

Now hold on before you go blasting me. Maybe you haven't lived with a 3.5 year old dictator and his sidekick, the nearly 2 year old queen bee. Or so she thinks. We all know who runs the roost around here. Wyatt and Claire are two peas in a pod. 

Most days. 

They are sweet towards each other. Considerate. They share. Wyatt helps Claire out when need be. They are the best of friends. 

Most days. 

But then there are days when they want to do nothing but fight with each other.

It's actually comical because I can pick up on it in the first 30 minutes of our day. They declare war on each other and it typically lasts until nap time. I see the hair pulling (Claire), the biting (Claire), the shoving (Wyatt), and the toy yanking (both) constantly. I have even gone as far as to tell Wyatt "you deal with it" when I have reached my quota of separating. 

But then, I step in because things escalate quickly. I don't recommend that   avenue. 

As a parent you have to know what I am talking about. Right? We've all been there.

Say you know what I am talking about. 

  

Wyatt knows he isn't to take out every toy from all the toy bins, boxes, and baskets. He knows the consequence is he has to pick then all up. By himself. Which is the hardest thing ever because "there's just so many momma". Yah, no kidding kid. 

I was prepping dinner and by the time I was done I came into the living room to this. 

That would be nearly every "piece" of a toy Wyatt and Claire own. You know the tiny toys that have a hundred parts. Yes. I just looked at him and explained he would be the one to put each toy back in their bins. He was so proud so I mentally said whatever and went about sweeping some area of the floor for the seventh time that day. 

Let's just say there are times when arguing with a 3.5 year old is completely pointless. Completely. This was one of those moments. 

I was actually fine with it until he lost his bananas towards me because his mountain of toys became an avalanche.  Somehow that was my fault. Somehow I needed three reminders not to sit on the couch during his nap, nor was I to move his toys while he was taking a nap. 

Yes, sir. 

You never try and rationalize three year old behavior. It will never make sense to you and you will never win. Ever. 

And then there is our little girl. Our sweet little Claire. The little girl who lives to tell me how it is in her little chipmunk voice. 

"No mommy" when I try to hand her the milk that she JUST asked for. "No mommy" when she calls my name to get her out of crib and I stroll in there and try to pick her up. "No mommy" when I open the applesauce pouch she just politely asked please for. 

Some days I just feel like I can't win with that girl.

She is so particular about things. 

The apple didn't fall far from the tree with that one. She's bossy and Ryan loves to remind me that she is my clone. 

Some days are so hard with them. Hard. Like I don't even smoke, but I'm all I need a cigarette break over here. Ha!

Nonetheless they are cool kids. Cool kids that only get cooler with age. 3.5 is a blast. For the most part. Wyatt's just a little boy who loves to share his imagination and get you to laugh. The things that come out of his mouth have me dying. 

Claire is all girl. Sweet, funny, full of energy, and a busy body. She can destroy the house with one granola bar in 10 seconds flat. Impressive if you ask me. A pain in the butt if you ask Ryan. 

They are precious little souls who are growing up entirely too fast. They make me laugh and make me cry (out of frustration). They make me jump with joy and want to hide in my bedroom. 

They make me want to poke my eyeballs out, but they also make life worth living. 

Run for Ryan 5k and Soaring Wings Half Marathon

The Run for Ryan 5k was held a couple weekends ago and we had such a great turnout! Ryan was nervous that it would be awkward. I was brutally honest in reminding him that this race was intended initially to be what would support for our family had he passed away. A memorial. Instead, we were blessed to have Ryan there but most of all healthy. Those who came out to participate and support our family we are so thankful for you guys!! 

I started with a little "carb-loading" prior to the race. 

I'm happy to report that Ryan didn't feel the least bit awkward and it was so nice getting to see so many people that we love in one place. People who prayed constantly for us and then people who just like to run. I feel like the 5k was the last sentence in the chapter we have been writing since July. We are so blessed and again so thankful. 

Not long after we were home from the hospital I decided to sign up for a half marathon. I would have 6 weeks to train if I worked really hard. I have ran one before that and trained weekly for it. For it I was ready. For this one? Not so much. That 5k (3.1 miles) I mentioned earlier was my only "training" you could say. The desire wasn't there to get out and run. It wasn't looking very good, but I kept reminding myself as the day inched closer and closer that I signed up for this race to do something for myself. To have a few hours to myself and to be exercising. 

I loaded up on carbs all week and upped my water intake. I knew I could at least run 3 miles and then walk the rest if I needed to. It would not be easy, but I would be able to finish. 

I arrived and got ready for the race where I bumped into two girls who were just as prepared as I was. See, I am not alone! We hung out until the race started and ended up by the 3:00 pacer. That was my goal to finish under 3 hours. I hoped I could do it, but then I was crushed when my headphones would work. It should be noted I ran my first half without headphones and it was brutal. I tossed them about mile 4 because my phone lost its ever loving mind so I was near panic mode because I knew this time I NEEDED music. Well, after nealy 15 minutes of messing with my phone I finally turned it off and back on an viola, they worked. I was now ready. 

I started to race fine, slower than my usual pace but I knew I was only racing against myself. I ran for nearly 5 miles and then I switched to intervals which I had never done before, but I may be a convert? We will have to see. 

I was told the course was really hilly, but I wasn't that shocked by them and they weren't really that bad. Also it wasn't that hot to me either. Maybe I was just in a daze because it wasn't a "race" to me. I was just out enjoying myself admiring the beautiful real estate. For real, lots of daydreaming about houses and jammin' out to my songs. 

I became emotional three times during the race. The first when I realized why I had chosen to run the 13.1 miles. I wanted time for myself. I had devoted so much time in getting my husband better and back home and now that I was able to breathe and take time for myself this is what I chose to do. Secondly, the first time I saw an "in memory of shirt". I am affected by everyone I see now because although I didn't lose my husband, I feel that pain for them.  Thirdly, at mile 9 where a family had set up in memory of their daughter who had died in a freak accident.  The tears flowed seeing her pretty face and not even knowing what had happened. (Later that night I Google it and learned of her story.) I praised God during my run. Thanking him for the ability to run and thanking him for the blessings he graciously bestowed upon me and my family. 

I finished the race in 2:40. 

17 minutes slower than the one I had trained for. I was pleasantly surprised and hope to run this race again next year, with training and to beat my time. 

It was actually a lot of fun. I wish I could have convinced Emma to run with me because let's face, it's not near as fun running alone. However, I loved the time I had lost in my own thoughts. 

My second half medal! Yay!

Coming down the chute to the finish line!

Now to find another...

Rainbows and butterflies

I like to lay it out all there as best I can and as honestly as possible. I like to think I am pretty successful at this. I also like to think that people can sometimes relate to me and that makes them feel more normal. Or, maybe that's what I keep telling myself to make myself feel normal. Either way, I am an open book so let's turn to another page

Ryan and I are meant for each other. By God's perfect timing he led us to one another, made us fall in love, wed, and produce two precious little nuggets. I think hands down the best compliment I have received since Ryan's ordeal is people telling me how they are so thankful for me being Ryan's wife. Is that vain? Probably so. But, I like knowing that I made a heck of a decision choosing him as a husband and that people agree with me. It also makes me want to recognize husbands and wives as I see fit and let them know that they are truly special and I am so happy that they found each other.

But it's not always rainbows and butterflies.

Lately, meaning post-illness, we have learned to deal with our new normal. When you are so use to having your husband do so much for you and then not be able to do anything at all you begin to carry a lot of weight. Weight that you didn't realize he was carrying all along as well as all "his" typical stuff.

There for awhile I had to do everything. It was emotionally draining, physically exhausting, and at times I struggled to have the grace and patience that he deserved. I said more "bad" words than I care to admit and at times I was downright ugly. But, Ryan was also less than pleasant. He was short, aggravated, tired, annoyed, and stretched to thin between me and the kids. It was a tough couple of weeks post-surgery. I wanted him to do more. I wanted him to get off his butt and fold clothes. I wanted him to get down there and play with our kids. I wanted him to do dishes without asking. I wanted him to do more. He wanted me to complain less. To not ask so much of him. To let his time with our kids be determined by him. He wanted me to back off. We would have great days. The days when we were on the same page and it was nothing but those rainbows and butterflies. Then, we would have the ugly days where we just needed time away, but were prisoners in our own home.

The beautiful thing about marriage is that your goal as a couple is to make your marriage work. To make your spouse happy. To make sure their needs are taken care of. To see that they are respected and most of all feel loved. To work through those tough days.

Ryan and I had our real knock down drag out when he brought me to tears. I had been really patient and bit my tongue a lot during those bad days. The days when I really wanted to say something back about his less than pleasant behavior. I wasn't sure how the aftermath was really affecting him, but I wanted to be cautious and respectful and hoped that as his energy levels picked up that maybe he wouldn't be as irritable as he had been. I gave it a month and he still had a short fuse. I had returned from Walmart when I let the flood gates open. There were a lot of tears on my part and I expressed to Ryan how it hurt that he was less than pleasant towards me. It was all those little tears that I had pushed down because I wanted to be strong. The sad part was he didn't even realize that he was being that way towards me. We talked it out and apologized and since then we have been a lot less snippy towards each other. I will never forget what Dr. Jones told us one morning before we were being discharged. We were eating breakfast and he told us he wanted to say something serious to us about when we got home. He said, "you don't know what she has been through and she doesn't know what you've been through so just keep that in mind when you guys are back at home." It is so true. I have no idea what Ryan went through emotionally or mentally. He doesn't fully grasp what I've went through either. However, we are both respectful of what has happened and we are constantly trying to figure out the boundaries.

Life altering events are just that. Life altering. I look at life so differently for my 28 years. I see Ryan with our kids, loving on them, making them laugh and my heart swells. I cannot wait for the day that they full grasp what a miracle God performed to have their daddy here with them. I try gracefully to remind Ryan that though it is tiresome for him that they want him to do everything when he is home, he needs to do it. They have needs that were not met in the nearly two months that he wasn't able to due to being in the hospital and the recovery of surgery. It's been a struggle and a work in progress. We are constantly improving our relationship, finding out balance, and annoying the crap out of each other. We are blessed to have each other and I believe we are slowly inching back to our regular selves. Now how about more of those rainbows and butterflies?