That one time the janitor unlocked the door, and I yelled, "Don't come in here!"

What is your most embarrassing moment? This is a question that seems to be asked on questionnaires so often. It is also a question that I have never really had a good, quality answer to... until about 7 months ago...

As I have mentioned on this blog before, I had set a goal when Brody was born that I was going to breastfeed him for a whole year. I knew that this was not going to be easy for me since I would be starting to do my student teaching when he turned about 4 months old. We purchased a quality, electric, double pump though, and I was set. So, during the 5 months that I worked full time at the school, I'd pump before my first class of the day, I'd pump during my lunch break, and I'd usually pump again after school. (I had about a 50 minute commute back home.) My life surrounded teaching and pumping.

Being a first time mom especially, I definitely was not super comfortable about talking about breastfeeding, and pumping, and anything else that goes along with that part of motherhood. I exited my shell a bit though when I asked the secretary at the Junior High office where the best place would be to pump. She gave me permission to just lock my classroom door, and pump in there.

My classroom had one of those bubbly windows on the door, that are difficult to see through. However, even though it is hard, you can still see through it if you put your face up close. So to decrease my fear of ever being witnessed in this very revealing position, I taped a school poster on the inside of the window.

I then took an extra chair and put it right next to the door. This was now my designated "pumping chair". I don't know if any of my seventh graders ever wondered why there was a random chair sitting next to the pencil sharpener or not, but it was always there.

So I'd sit there, with my back against the wall, and the door next to me. I always wanted to be in very close proximity to that door, because even though I made sure, and double made sure, that it was locked, I just never knew.

There were times I'd be pumping, shirt pulled all the way up (if I happened to be wearing a dress that day, my dress was definitely pulled up to my chin), and students would need to get into my room for some reason during lunch. I could hear them in the hall, approaching my door, and I'd hold my breath... "please pass by, please pass by," I'd think... The times they stopped, they would knock, they would jiggle the doorknob, they would knock again, they would jiggle the doorknob some more... and I would be right on the other side of the door praying, with my bare belly exposed, breasts exposed with a double pump attached to them, praying that they would just conclude that no one was inside the room and leave. They'd eventually leave, and I would start to breath again.

If only they knew what was actually going on inside the classroom. They might have died.

Anyway, one day, I was just minding my own little breast pumping business, and I hear the familiar sound of the garbage can on wheels rolling down the hall. I didn't think much of it... until it came to a stop in front of my classroom door. The next sound I hear is keys moving quickly to unlock it. I'm pretty sure at this moment my entire life flashed before my eyes. I immediately threw down my pump, my bottles full of milk, stood up as fast as I could, and grabbed onto that opening classroom door- the door that was about to lead to my deathbed- as fast as I could and yelled, "Don't come in here!!!!"

The janitor responded with a quick and confused, "Sorry!" and rolled his garbage can down the hallway with a little more speed than before. "What a freakin' weirdo," is what he was probably thinking. I recognized the voice though. It was the youngest janitor at the school- probably around my own age- which seriously made it so much worse.

I remember I just sat on the floor of my classroom, and just starred at the wall for a few minutes. It was the only thing I could get myself to do in order to come to grips with what had just happened. I took a lot of deep breaths too. That was definitely necessary for my survival.

After cleaning up the mess I had made of milk all over the classroom floor with my rag that I used for my overhead projector (don't worry, I threw the used rag away after that one), I got myself put together again and headed straight to the office. I HAD to tell someone what had just happened to me before I had to face the world again- teaching nonetheless.

I went and told the secretary what had happened and she just laughed. Her laugh made me feel SO much better. She had pumped the previous year for her baby and knew EXACTLY the alarming feeling I was having. Even though a close call (VERY close call) had never happened to her, it sure felt good to laugh about it with someone.

She agreed to talk to the young janitor about what had happened since I knew for sure he now though I was a screaming lunatic. I wonder what went through his head when I screamed for him to not enter the room. He must have thought I was sorting my drugs or something. Or seriously, it makes me scared when I try to think of the many possible conclusions that could have come into his head.

I thought this was a good plan (her talking to him about what had happened) until after school that day. I was walking down the staircase, which was near the office, and she was leaning on the propped open office door, explaining the situation to him RIGHT THERE. Oh. my. goodness. I could have died for the second time that day. Here I was, just trying to leave my job, and she coincidentally was talking to him right then. I could not have timed my exit any worse. I quickened my walk as fast as I could and left. I KNOW that they saw me though. I KNOW that they saw me WHILE they were talking about my pumping, and my milk, and my embarrassment, and my boobs. Well, maybe they weren't specifically talking about my boobs... but seriously, they may have well been!

The rest of the year, every time I saw that janitor in the hallway... let's just say I became really good at the no eye contact thing.

So yes, I do have a most embarrassing moment. And no, it probably won't be explained well on a questionnaire, but I thought I'd write it on this little blog so I don't forget about it. (Even though I don't know how I would.)

And now, after 7 months, I finally feel comfortable enough to share it with other people.

morning snuggles

For about two weeks Brody has been waking up at 5:30 or 6:00 every morning. His normal time to wake up was always 7:30 for quite a long time. During these weeks I had gotten into the habit of going in there with a bottle, changing his diaper, rocking him for a little until he was done drinking his milk, and then putting him back into his crib to snag an extra hour or so of sleep before he woke up for the day. Getting up and rocking him didn't necessarily bother me, however I recently became stressed about it when thinking that he might be waking up at this time out of habit because I chosen to feed him every time he does this. I have read online that babies, and adults for that matter, will naturally wake up in time for breakfast if they eat at the same time every morning. Therefore, this morning I decided I was going to break this cycle. I can't have him waking up earlier than he should every single morning, right?

So he woke at 5:30am this morning, and I let him whine a little to see if he would go back to sleep like he does in the middle of the night wakings. He didn't seem to be going back to sleep, so I went in there, changed his wet diaper, tried to rock him a little- but he just got more and more upset that I didn't have him bottle of milk for him. He kept reaching out his arms, trying to grab his bottle, but when it was no where to be found, he just got more upset.

I set him back in his crib and closed the door. I hoped he would realize that it wasn't time to wake up yet and just go back to sleep, but he didn't. After ten minutes, I just couldn't do it anymore. I caved, got his bottle for him, rocked him for ten minutes, and set him back into his crib. He turned over, like usual, and went straight back to sleep.

This morning made me realize something.

I need to remember that these times of change, when raising our children, go in phases. The harder, or unperfect, times never last forever, and before we know it they have stopped and we are onto the next trial. I always think I have learned this lesson, and then I get caught up in worrying that a certain behavior is going to last forever- it won't though- I just need to remember that.

Another thing that I have learned is that with being a momma comes learning to live life while thinking of others, and not just myself. While I am here worrying about getting more sleep in the morning, my baby in the other room needs me. Maybe he just wants to be held a little, maybe he's hungry (from what I've read, this isn't the case), maybe the sun is waking him up, or maybe his new molars that are growing are bothering him in the mornings... whatever it is, I can definitely take ten minutes to sit back in the rocking chair, feed him a bottle, and put him back to sleep contently.

I came across this quote a little while ago and saved it in my phone. It says:

"You will never remember the nights that you had a full night of sleep."

Luckily, Brody has been a pretty good sleeper once I figured out the sleep training, but there are always bumps along the road, especially when I feel like I have things perfect. I know that I will experience the same type of thing when I'm potty training him, or sending him off to school, or any of the other million transitions mothers go through with their kids.

When the new baby comes, I don't know what will change. I don't know how much cuddling time I will have with my little bee. All I know is that I have fifteen more weeks of being a momma-to-one, and I want to cuddle, and rock, and comfort my little guy as much as possible before our big change comes.

Maybe him waking in the morning is actually a gift- a gift of a little bit of extra, sweet time that I get to hold my growing little Brody in my arms. Before too long he won't want to be held by his momma as much as he does right now. So what am I worrying about? Things are exactly how they should be... and before I know it, this phase will be over, and maybe I'll look back and miss it after all.

Life is brillant.

 

My sweet little bee had his second 4th of July today. We got to take him to his first parade and it was so fun! He was so interested in the bright colorful floats, the loud, ground-shaking bands, and the all of the people around us. A few days ago I picked up a little fifty cent flag from Micheal's for him to play with today. It was probably one of my best purchases. Boy, did he love waving it! It rarely left his little hand all day long. Even at the end of the parade, when we were all hot, tired, and ready for a nap, Brody laid back in his stroller, and still grasped his little flag, all the way home. 

This photo is from last year:

 

Aside from this shot being one of my all time favorite pictures taken of Brody, it amazes me how much he has grown in just one year. I remember last year we took him to a 4th of July festival in Idaho Falls. We went with a bunch of friends and stayed until late, watching the fireworks. I remember Jeff and I being so worried that Brody was going to be scared of the loud bangs when the fireworks went off. We brought Jeff's huge, padded headphones, got him to go to sleep before they started, and delicately placed the headphones on his ears. It completely squished his little face and make him look 100 times chubbier than he already was. He peacefully slept through the whole show.

Here's the proof:

These recent years, since marrying Jeff, have brought with them so many changes. From moving, to switching schools, to graduating, to different jobs, to having a baby, to getting pregnant again, the list could go on and on. I feel like I am always looking forward to the next big event, and with that comes a lot of worrying, which usually leads to stressing. 

Today, I was thinking about how life will be different, again, come next 4th of July. We will be a family of four, with a 8 month old little girl, dressed in red, white, and blue. Brody will be bigger, once again, and he will hopefully understand how to "stay behind the white line" better at the parade. 

Thinking about how our life was last 4th of July compared to this one, it seemed like it was a lot easier. We were able to enjoy the fireworks with a sleeping baby right beside us. We could easily pick of up his car seat (where he laid sleeping), put it into the car, and let him continue sleeping through all of the busy firework traffic, all the way home. This year, as I type this blog post, Brody is asleep in the next room, and has been since 7:30. Jeff's at work, and I am planning to possibly go to sleep a bit early tonight since I'm exhausted from our day spent in the sun. I'm not sad about missing the fireworks this year. I am fully comfortable with the fact that this is how this stage of my life is right now.

People are constantly using "just wait until..." statements. I wish these would stop. For example, when a pregnant lady complains about not being able to feel comfortable enough in bed to get a full night's rest, many mothers will jump at the chance to say something like, "Just wait until the baby comes, that's when you won't get any sleep." Or when a mom of one child complains about being so busy with her little one and never being able to get anything done around the house, many other mothers might jump at the chance to say something like, "Just wait until you have more than one kid, that's when your house will really feel unorganized." Or when a newly married couple complains about the struggles of getting used to living with eachother, another married couple might jump at the chance to say something like, "Just wait until you guys have a baby, that's when the arguments and disagreements will really start." I see and think about these types of scenarios all of the time.

While I do think that the people that are saying these "just wait until..." statements are trying to make that other, complaining, person feel better about the stage of life they are in now, I think that these statements instead make the person struggling feel hopeless, and stressed. When I've heard these statements being said to me, I realize that maybe life isn't very hard at all. Maybe I am just overreacting. I start to feel as though I need to immediately pause and enjoy life right now, because soon life is about to get worse. Therefore I better just start preparing myself. I also better get good at living through whatever tough thing is going on now, because life is about to give me something much, much worse. 

This is what these statements do to my head. Stress, stress, stress. Wait, stop stressing Karli, you need to enjoy this challenge. Ahhh!

But really, at the time of whatever I might be complaining about, I am working through my own struggle. Whether this be with money, or babies, or marriage, or in my job- it is my own challenge, that seems important to me at the stage of life I am in right now. And whether or not someone else has already been through that struggle and is happy to tell me something worse that is about to happen in my near future, they should just stop and listen instead. 

Life is brilliant. 

Every stage gracefully prepares you for the next one. 

Going to college and having roommates prepares you for living with your future spouse. Being married and learning how to compromise your needs prepares you for being pregnant. Being pregnant and being accountable to taking care of a growing being inside of you prepares you to be a mother someday and take care of a little someone outside of you. Being a parent prepares you to be a parent again to another child. These life preparations go on and on. And while each stage brings their own various challenges, they are preparing you for the next stage.

Future stages usually seem harder than the present one, which is why many times people tend to be scared of what the future holds. But in my experience, once you get there, you are more ready than you ever thought you would be. And once you are there, you are already on your way to the next stage of life before you know it.

We need to remember that everyone is in a different stage of life. Each individual faces their own, unique, challenge that is difficult for them at that time. So rather than list off things to them that may be harder than what they are going through now, we should just listen. The best advice I am ever given is when someone can try to remember what their life was like at my stage of life and try their best to understand that even though their life might be harder right now, back then wasn't very easy either.

Today Brody was attempting, again and again, to balance his little bowl on the top of my head. He'd giggle every time it would fall off, bend down, pick it up, and try again. I loved having him be so close to my face. I just sat there and looked up at his little long eyelashes on his concentrating, careful eyes. His mouth was just a little bit open and he breathed just a little bit harder, while he made his body as still as possible. Sometimes, after the bowl would drop, I'd gasp as if it might break when it hit the floor. Brody would make eye contact with me, and know what was coming next. Then I'd take my little guy up into my arms and bury of face into his little tummy, allowing me to soak his giggles as I tickled him like crazy. These moments help me see how great life really is. I know that everyday isn't perfect, not even close. But if we can notice the little blessings that are within our days, or our weeks, or our months, those hard days will be a little easier to overcome. We are then able to move on because we can look forward to the next precious moment that keeps us going.

these sweet moments

I just love spending days like this with my little boy.
As much as I long to meet the little one inside of me, I am enjoying the alone time I get with Brody.
Today we went to the splash pad, which is one of his favorite things to do.
We meant to meet up with some friends, but plans fell through and it left just the two of us, spending some sweet moments at the park together.
He did some funny things- like how he kept insisting on licking the standing water off the cement bench,
or how he would walk as fast as he could across the hot concrete, until he couldn't stand it anymore- he'd start to whine until I wrapped him up in my arms and explained how it was hot again and again,
or how he would watch all of the older kids with his big, bright eyes playing in the water and he would try to follow them as best as he could,
or how he would sometimes get so filled with excitement he couldn't help but scream,
or how he'd make friends with the little 7 year old girls who wanted to pick him up and tickle his tummy- he'd get so excited when they'd come back to play with him again.

I love this little guy. I just love watching him be. When he is playing in the water, he gets so distracted by everything that is going on, I feel like he forgets that I'm right there with him at times. He is just so filled with wonder and excitement.

He plays for awhile and always, without a doubt, eventually looks around to make sure I'm still there- usually with a big grin on his face- like it is the happiest day ever. And then there are the times when everything just is too much and he'll turn, look up, and put his arms up- wanting me to hold him for a little so he can have a little break from the water adventures. I love these sweet moments.

We walk back to our two towels, laying side by side in the shade, eat our snack and watch as the other kids continue to play in the water. I love just sitting there, in the great Utah summer weather, next to my little guy. I just want to soak in the way he is right now. It makes me sad that life won't be like it is right now- when momma and Brody days are most days. I know the future will hold many great other types of days- but I sure do love these ones.

Brody's chubby little feet kill me when I see them running and splashing through the water.

His face just makes me want to squeeze him so tight when he gets brave and tries to taste the water- only ending in getting sprayed up the nose and in the eyes by cold water. It takes his breath away, and it is just so darn cute.