Wrap it up
Year 2013 will go down in family history as a good one. Full of growth, abundant blessings, new kinds of fun, and nestling into survival mode. It will also go down in history as by far the worst year for the blog.
For this I am sorry. My childishly poor attitude by the tail end of each day, combined with my desire to not exude negativity on the blog, has kept me from recording some funny, sweet, and teachable moments that will be forever lost in the recesses of my mind. It's a sad thing.
So here is the classic year-end wrap up - where we are now, how I have fared on my one word and goals for 2013, and a re-introduction to the boys who, since my last true update back in the summer, are barely recognizeable.
Where we are. This is not my favorite season. We are definitely blessed, well provided for, healthy and active. But the dynamic between the boys and me is practically dismal.
The boys are so very different, each fiercely independent and rather short-tempered. Trey gets frustrated at Aden's inability to follow basic rules and unwillingness to be bossed around. Aden gets frustrated that Trey is more advanced than he is, and at his unwillingness to include Aden in his big-boy activities.
Oh, the injuries. Praise God for Aden's guardian angels, for surely by now the heavens have lost count of how many times his life has needed to be spared. Trey takes his share of abuse too, though. It just floors me how mean they are to each other.
In short, when the boys are together, they become the worst versions of themselves. And when this happens, which obviously is most of the time, I am the worst version of myself.
Which doesn't have to be, I know this much. Never had a problem with anger before in my life, but these boys have a way of turning me into a monster. Something to work on. To try and remember that the boys will develop their views on women from me. Sca-ary.
My word for the year was steward. Can we just say fail and move on? There were times at certain points of the year when I would have marked a few successes down. Not for parenting, of course.
The house is in great shape. The inside is fairly organized, and the outside looks better than it ever has, thanks to the long-awaited and much-appreciated gift of a front porch, plus some desperate landscaping.
A handful of successful experiments in the kitchen. Learned to make my own wrinkle releaser, and found that a very basic salad dressing recipe makes a killer furniture polish. And the new setting on my camera makes me all warm and gooey inside.
Stuck to our budget as long as I ever have, a good four months at least, but that ended up going down the drain. I blame rising food costs and rising boy belly capacity.
From May to the end of August, I lost twenty pounds, thanks to the guidance of a very dear friend and the strength and willpower of God alone. And in typical Ashley fashion, from September to December I have gained it all back. Lovely.
Pile that on top of parenting purgatory, and it's in my best interest to just plead steward failure and move on.
Despite multi-year failure on my one words, I have selected a word for next year. Which I do hope to blog on toward the beginning of next year, but we all know how that goes.
On to the boys. Trey is six going on forty. Over four feet tall, rock solid sixty pounds, skinny with a big ol' belly. Loves games, puzzles, reading, and music. Wants to be a teacher when he grows up. Which is a good choice, though Daddy and Mama have their money on preacher.
Loves basketball, though it looks like his asthma will prevent him from competing, at least for now. Loves golf too, which would be a good choice on both the asthma and hermit fronts.
Gets his feelings hurt very easily and tends to whine when not getting his way. Is a very good helper around the house and, when he sets his mind to it, earns an allowance and is learning to save, tithe, and donate his money.
Loves church and very actively participates in praise and worship. Voluntarily goes with his Granddaddy to the retirement home to participate in those worship services as well. Is learning to build sermons in Powerpoint. Went Christmas caroling with the church choir and apparently drowned out everyone else's singing.
Yep, preacher.
We so love this snuggly boy who tells us how thankful he is for us, loses all composure when he doesn't know the plan for the day, and offers to make and keep up with any list anyone should need to make. Who loves to watch cooking shows with me, Panthers games with his Daddy, and prefers his grandparents to any people in the whole wide world.
Then there's my Aden. Oh, little Taz. Our poor house. At this very moment he is slamming his door into the wall. And as I rather loudly ask him to stop, he tiptoes into the kitchen, monkey in one arm and the other thumb in his mouth, and demands a cuddle.
This is how we roll.
He is completely potty trained except for maybe once a week at night. That will pass. And except for those handful of times that he has peed on the playground at his preschool during recess. Yeah.
Speaking of preschool, he is thriving. Has gone from not recognizing numbers to being able to count into the forties. Knows all letters and, somewhere along the line, learned to write his name all by himself. He learns almost everything he tries very quickly, and has an absolutely unquenchable determination. He's one amazing kid.
Maybe the only thing to match his determination is the temper. Shrieking, hitting, thrashing, all very commonplace when Aden goes into his fits.
Social butterfly, small attention span, loves to sing and dance, and when Trey is not around, will talk your living ear off. Longs to be outside pretty much 24/7. Is gradually losing both naptime and those sweet toddler speech patterns. Sniff.
Hates bathtime, hates sitting still for meals, not terribly fond of riding in the car for any reason. Is quickly growing out of his little bed and asks daily for us to go ahead and put together his big boy room, complete with a desk.
(Dad and I built Trey a wall desk for Christmas, and now Aden is obsessed with it. I got Aden a karaoke machine for Christmas, and Trey is obsessed with it. Go figure.)
Is growing more handsome by the minute. Blond hair fading to brown, forty-three pounds and forty-one inches tall. Big baby belly and teeny tiny tushy. Has grown two sizes in about four months.
Oh how we love this boy who is absolutely compelled to touch everything he sees, who randomly spouts out "I love you", whose excitement and enthusiasm even over little things is enough to make you just stop and appreciate life, and who prefers his grandparents to any people in the whole wide world.
Love. It's all you need. For survival mode, anyway.
Lastly, as if this post hasn't been long enough (cough-guilt-cough), here is a little Christmas season recap for you, including some very raw video. Hey, just keeping it real.
Happy 2014 to all. Catch you on the flip side.
For this I am sorry. My childishly poor attitude by the tail end of each day, combined with my desire to not exude negativity on the blog, has kept me from recording some funny, sweet, and teachable moments that will be forever lost in the recesses of my mind. It's a sad thing.
So here is the classic year-end wrap up - where we are now, how I have fared on my one word and goals for 2013, and a re-introduction to the boys who, since my last true update back in the summer, are barely recognizeable.
Where we are. This is not my favorite season. We are definitely blessed, well provided for, healthy and active. But the dynamic between the boys and me is practically dismal.
The boys are so very different, each fiercely independent and rather short-tempered. Trey gets frustrated at Aden's inability to follow basic rules and unwillingness to be bossed around. Aden gets frustrated that Trey is more advanced than he is, and at his unwillingness to include Aden in his big-boy activities.
Oh, the injuries. Praise God for Aden's guardian angels, for surely by now the heavens have lost count of how many times his life has needed to be spared. Trey takes his share of abuse too, though. It just floors me how mean they are to each other.
In short, when the boys are together, they become the worst versions of themselves. And when this happens, which obviously is most of the time, I am the worst version of myself.
Which doesn't have to be, I know this much. Never had a problem with anger before in my life, but these boys have a way of turning me into a monster. Something to work on. To try and remember that the boys will develop their views on women from me. Sca-ary.
My word for the year was steward. Can we just say fail and move on? There were times at certain points of the year when I would have marked a few successes down. Not for parenting, of course.
The house is in great shape. The inside is fairly organized, and the outside looks better than it ever has, thanks to the long-awaited and much-appreciated gift of a front porch, plus some desperate landscaping.
A handful of successful experiments in the kitchen. Learned to make my own wrinkle releaser, and found that a very basic salad dressing recipe makes a killer furniture polish. And the new setting on my camera makes me all warm and gooey inside.
Stuck to our budget as long as I ever have, a good four months at least, but that ended up going down the drain. I blame rising food costs and rising boy belly capacity.
From May to the end of August, I lost twenty pounds, thanks to the guidance of a very dear friend and the strength and willpower of God alone. And in typical Ashley fashion, from September to December I have gained it all back. Lovely.
Pile that on top of parenting purgatory, and it's in my best interest to just plead steward failure and move on.
Despite multi-year failure on my one words, I have selected a word for next year. Which I do hope to blog on toward the beginning of next year, but we all know how that goes.
On to the boys. Trey is six going on forty. Over four feet tall, rock solid sixty pounds, skinny with a big ol' belly. Loves games, puzzles, reading, and music. Wants to be a teacher when he grows up. Which is a good choice, though Daddy and Mama have their money on preacher.
Loves basketball, though it looks like his asthma will prevent him from competing, at least for now. Loves golf too, which would be a good choice on both the asthma and hermit fronts.
Gets his feelings hurt very easily and tends to whine when not getting his way. Is a very good helper around the house and, when he sets his mind to it, earns an allowance and is learning to save, tithe, and donate his money.
Loves church and very actively participates in praise and worship. Voluntarily goes with his Granddaddy to the retirement home to participate in those worship services as well. Is learning to build sermons in Powerpoint. Went Christmas caroling with the church choir and apparently drowned out everyone else's singing.
Yep, preacher.
We so love this snuggly boy who tells us how thankful he is for us, loses all composure when he doesn't know the plan for the day, and offers to make and keep up with any list anyone should need to make. Who loves to watch cooking shows with me, Panthers games with his Daddy, and prefers his grandparents to any people in the whole wide world.
Then there's my Aden. Oh, little Taz. Our poor house. At this very moment he is slamming his door into the wall. And as I rather loudly ask him to stop, he tiptoes into the kitchen, monkey in one arm and the other thumb in his mouth, and demands a cuddle.
This is how we roll.
He is completely potty trained except for maybe once a week at night. That will pass. And except for those handful of times that he has peed on the playground at his preschool during recess. Yeah.
Speaking of preschool, he is thriving. Has gone from not recognizing numbers to being able to count into the forties. Knows all letters and, somewhere along the line, learned to write his name all by himself. He learns almost everything he tries very quickly, and has an absolutely unquenchable determination. He's one amazing kid.
Maybe the only thing to match his determination is the temper. Shrieking, hitting, thrashing, all very commonplace when Aden goes into his fits.
Social butterfly, small attention span, loves to sing and dance, and when Trey is not around, will talk your living ear off. Longs to be outside pretty much 24/7. Is gradually losing both naptime and those sweet toddler speech patterns. Sniff.
Hates bathtime, hates sitting still for meals, not terribly fond of riding in the car for any reason. Is quickly growing out of his little bed and asks daily for us to go ahead and put together his big boy room, complete with a desk.
(Dad and I built Trey a wall desk for Christmas, and now Aden is obsessed with it. I got Aden a karaoke machine for Christmas, and Trey is obsessed with it. Go figure.)
Is growing more handsome by the minute. Blond hair fading to brown, forty-three pounds and forty-one inches tall. Big baby belly and teeny tiny tushy. Has grown two sizes in about four months.
Oh how we love this boy who is absolutely compelled to touch everything he sees, who randomly spouts out "I love you", whose excitement and enthusiasm even over little things is enough to make you just stop and appreciate life, and who prefers his grandparents to any people in the whole wide world.
Love. It's all you need. For survival mode, anyway.
Lastly, as if this post hasn't been long enough (cough-guilt-cough), here is a little Christmas season recap for you, including some very raw video. Hey, just keeping it real.
Guess we need a lesson in who Santa Claus is. Poor Aden.
Brandon accompanied his aunts as they graced us with song during the Harris Christmas bash.
Happy 2014 to all. Catch you on the flip side.
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