Black Lung in Snotsville

Well Dawson had his 1st official cold this week, preceded by his darling sister. It was the wierdest little bug, the kids and I were visiting my parents while Todd was on business, and one morning Ella woke up with a horrible cough. No other symptoms, just a hacking cough. Of course the fever, runny nose and general ickiness followed, but not for a couple of days which I thought was weird. According to our friend Richie this was no ordinary cough, and he insisted on referring to as Black Lung. Now I don't know how a single virus survived my ruthless bleaching, hot water washing, Clorox wiping extravaganza, but whatever lived regrouped, brought in reinforcements and set up house in poor little Dawson's system. It morphed though, and Dawson's started with the snots, lots and lotsa snot. Now I'm getting to my point here, sorry for all the unnecessary details. I wouldn't go so far as to say I'm glad my kids got sick, I HATE it when they are, but one good thing that seems to come of it is that we SLOW DOWN. In our little world of Snotsville, Bailey is a dinosaur that is only appeased by Gerber Graduates cookies. The game of Trouble, playdough and glitter glue are mainstays, and staying in your jammies until noon is not only allowed, it's recommended. Ella has never been so happy in her life, she got to watch TV every stinkin' day (quite a change from her mean Mom's once a week rule). So, this nasty virus had it's good side, I got to really snuggle in with my babies and watch them, really look at them. But after 2 straight weeks of whiny, slimy kids, it's time to say goodbye to Mr. Influenza - I hope.

15 months!

Dawson turned 15 months today and it probably seems like an odd time for reflection, but nonetheless, I spent a good part of today reminiscing, not only about Dawson, but Ella and our journey to parenthood in general. As most of you know, that journey began a very long time ago, and when we started trying for kids I could have never predicted what God had in store for us. The road that led us to a blonde haired, blue eyed, dimple cheeked baby girl was a hard one, and having experienced motherhood in every way (step-mom, adoption, biological) I can honestly say it was by far the most challenging, emotionally speaking. The truth is that we aren't in control, but when you go through the process of adoption, it becomes painfully clear that everything is out of your hands. God taught me a lot about trust during those months, and I would say that I learned more about Him during that season of my life than any other time. So a few years down the road we again looked for some direction on how to add to our family. After a lot of prayer, surgical procedures, poking, prodding, countless blood draws and months of shots, we became pregnant, with twins. We were so excited and scared, I will never forget the look on Todd's face when he heard our nurse say "there's two!" And again I had to make a conscious decision to trust God and turn my fear over to Him, fear of a complicated pregnancy, fear of miscarrying. One of those babies was not meant to be with us here on earth, but we were so incredibly grateful for our little survivor. Those of you who have had a hard time getting or staying pregnant can relate to the next phase, the waiting phase. The 1st trimester feels like a lifetime - 12 weeks of waiting and praying for a healthy pregnancy. It was the most excruciatingly long 3 months of my life, I honestly counted the hours some days. As the months passed and I realized I would indeed be welcoming a baby boy into my life, I found myself really worrying about how I could love this new little one as much as I loved Ella. Ella was my baby, my one and only, and I truly didn't know if I could love another the same way. My head knew things would be okay, but my heart was struggling with so many emotions. And then, 15 months ago, I realized just how wrong I was. This little man was laid on my chest and it was a done deal. I felt like the Grinch, you know the part where his teeny tiny, wicked little heart grows so big that it busts through that little gold frame into curly, swirly wires. That was me, my Christmas baby had just burst my heart. Rather than sharing my heart between them, my heart just expanded - in fact I think it grew tenfold when I met Dawson. Physiologically speaking, each single heart beat is actually made up of two sounds. I suppose that if you listened closely enough to my heart, these are the two sounds you'd hear "Ella, Dawson - Ella, Dawson". They are the beat of my heart.

MY NEW BUSINESS VENTURE!

In an attempt to keep Ella at Northwest Christian School and perhaps allow future Rufflings to attend, I just start working for a GREAT company as an Independent Demonstrator (my nursing career is going to have to wait until my little ones get bigger). It's called Uppercase Living and it is the coolest thing ever! I don't know about your neck of the woods, but wall vinyls are the hottest thing in decorating around here, and now I am selling them! It is a really wonderful product and it is very affordable. In no time, my entire house is going to be covered in these things! They have a whole catalog of expressions and designs but you can also design your own. There are a ton of colors, fonts, and sizes to choose from so if you want to check it out, the info is below. Take a look and tell me what you think! Feel free to share the login information with your friends and family if you'd like.

go to http://www.uppercaseliving.com/

Go to the "Customer Corner Login"

You will need my ID# (935045) and Token (Laura)

Happy Shopping!

The Groundhog Must DIE

It has been a very long winter here in good ole Spokane, and I was more than happy to say goodbye to it months ago. So I was rather annoyed when I woke up to SNOW this morning. I grew up in a tiny town in the mountains, and the summers were mild and the snow was up to our eyeballs all winter, and I loved it. I don't know if I'm just getting old and grouchy, or maybe it's because we live 30 minutes out of town on a windy road and the stress of transporting my precious cargo in bad weather just ruins it for me. I'm guessing it's probably a little of both. But I was downloading some pictures and saw these, and it actually made me miss all that gorgeous snow - just for a split second though, I don't want any fellow Spokanites to send me hate mail. It really was like living in a little snow globe, and it was beautiful. But I'm over it now. You know the one thing that has kept me from getting really anxious for the summer is knowing that it means my kids are getting older. I honestly would preserve them, as is, if I had a choice. Maybe it sounds strange to some of you, but I just hate that they are growing up. I am thankful that they are because it means they're healthy and that we are sharing another day together, but I just wish they could stay little forever. So as I flip the pages of my day planner and I start day dreaming about BBQ's, splashing in the pool, playing at the park, bike rides, and all the other delicious summer pleasures, I will remind myself that by the time August arrives, all I'll want to do is throw on a pot of chili, turn on the Christmas twinkle lights, and watch the snow fly.

Sweet dreams. . .

I didn't think I could possibly be more in love with my son or that he could get any more precious, but I was wrong. He has recently added a new item to his repetoire of cuteness - giggling in his sleep. Todd and I will be chatting in bed or just about to drift off to sleep and the baby monitor will deliver these sweet little giggles. I wonder what he's dreaming about . . . is Ella chasing him, maybe Daddy is giving him a horsey ride, or Mommy's kissing his neck. Either way, it makes my heart happy to know that he is content enough while he's awake to be laughing in his sleep.

I just rocked him to sleep (yes, I still rock him to sleep, sometimes more than once) and I can only hope that when I lay in bed tonight he will be having one of his sweet dreams.

Sleep tight baby boy . . .

Snack Attack

Hi, my name is Laura and I'm a snackaholic. This is a picture of what I refer to as "the line-up", various assorted snacks I carefully choose for the evening. It takes some skill to get just the right mixture of sweet and salty, salty and sweet to satisfy my craving. The other night I saw my stash sitting there on the end table and it hit me "you know what, I have issues." I have always consoled my guilty conscience by reminding myself that I cook healthy meals all day so I can indulge when the weasles are in bed and I don't have to set a good example. I've come to the realization that the extra padding on my tummy isn't Dawson's fault after all, it's the half dozen chocolate chip cookies et al I eat every night. Sometimes the truth hurts, I think I'll have some ice cream to make myself feel better.