My Advice to New Mothers

Something must be in the water nowadays because there are several friends and acquaintances who are with child right now.  It makes me a little nostalgic and I think back on where I was when I waited for my sons to arrive.

Here's the thing, I've only been pregnant twice.  I'm hardly a Duggar or Osmond with a gaggle of kids but 2 is a respectable number.  I must admit, they were ridiculously blissful pregnancies.  Of course, I may feel that way because they happened 10 and 6 years ago and time erases the discomfort quicker than the stretch marks.  Now that's not to say the process was uneventful. 

Some people may not remember or know that we had Placenta Previa (that's right, I said placenta) with Jackson and some tough talks were had as a result.  We knew that there was a possibility one or both of us might not make it the 9 months. I wish the conversations we had for no one as my husband had to hear what my preferences were if I were unable to make decisions for myself.  All that to say, that child was bathed in prayer before his first breath and we experienced a miracle in the 3rd trimester that resulted in a bouncing baby boy through a great delivery.  (Seriously, all deliveries should be so awesome).

So, here's what I would say to those sweet ladies whose lives are about to change:

1. You do not get an extra crown in heaven for passing on the epidural.  If I could have, I would have named my kids after the anesthesiologist.  That hunky, hunky man.  That said, remember that you are still in charge of what's going on.  I knew when it was time to get the show on the road and said my goodbyes to the family and it's time for them to give me my space.  Listen to your body!  

2.  Sometimes, well-meaning husbands can not for the life of them keep track of contractions.  Bless them!  At one point St. Bryan was convinced I had an 18 minute contraction.  He had actually fallen asleep.  So, while parenting books may want you to include them in the labor process, find a stopwatch or clock of your own.  

3.  If you find yourself feeling like a time bomb about to go off, remember these are the last little kicks and stretches you'll feel from that little one inside.  Just smile as if you two have your own little joke.  Pretty soon you'll have to share that child with the world!  For now, they're all yours.

4. Baby Blues is totally fake.  JUST KIDDING!!  I am typically the happiest of humans.  But, on day 6 I found myself in my bedroom rocking in bed with my baby in my arms like a mother bear.  THIS is when you need to rely on your hubby, co-parent, or helper to clear the air.  Casserole at the front door?  Thanks! We'll see you later.  Someone on the phone?  They'll have to call you later.  Come up with canned answers and stick to the script!  You'll get through it in a couple days.

5.  Get a note for the door saying that those who ring the doorbell will need to be responsible for getting the crying baby back to sleep.

6.  Ignore advice-givers.  Yes, I realize this would now include me!  There are well-meaning people out there who can give great advice for what worked for them.  That's not to say it will work for you.  Of my 2 kids, they were as different as day is to night.  By the time they drew in their first breath, I knew them.  I knew #1 was an extrovert and #2 was a snugglebug.  I also knew they loved me and I loved them.  Still do.  So much.  
7.  The spread-eagle baby on your chest sleeping position is the best feeling in the whole world.  Hands down.

So, there you have it.  I have reminisced and pep-talked you through these final days.  Amazing, exhausting, and life-changing.  And no, I'm not doing it again!  Those chips are cashed in!     

These Are a Few of My Favorite Things...

You may not realize it but, I'm really a quirky kind of soul.  So, with that, here are a few of my favorite things that I think you should check out:

1.  It is my opinion that Mollie Busta, host of Mollie B's Polka Party is the most talented woman in these United States.  She can sing, dance, play the keyboard and trumpet at the same time.  She can play the saxophone and smile at the same time.  It's amazing!   You have got to check out her show.

2.  I love a good deal.  I recently discovered a website that posts new free Kindle books.  I have toyed with different sites and some of them are difficult to manuveur on an iphone.  Not here!  eReader IQ has easy to use filters and lots 'o content.  And once again: 

3.    The Bossa Nova rocks my socks.  I love to read while listening to some soothing covers by this group.  This company does covers of famous songs with a Bossa flair.  Quirky, yes!

Who I do not want to be

I'm Mad...There, I said it

Here's the deal, I seldom show a lot of emotion. Don't get me wrong, I have a smile on my face and I'm usually pretty even keeled. Sometimes I have worried that it's a result of some medications I have been taking. Well, I can now confirm that I am not without emotions entirely. I have them: anger, sadness, frustration. Sadly, it took something big to prove this to me. I have found something that makes me mad. It infuriates me so much that my eyes swell. I sob, I cry, I want to go Chuck Norris on something and hit a wall.

What could cause me to feel these things? Here it is: My mom has cancer. We found out through a routine mammogram that she has it in her left breast.  The crazy thing is that there isn't a lump.  Had we waited for a lump, it would have been too advanced.  Women!  Go get your mammograms!!  So, we have a surgery coming in the near future and post-op treatment on the horizon. 

It's amazing the things you take notice of when going through something like this.  Like the fact that before we hang up my mother says "bye Sweetie."  I'm pretty sure she doesn't do that to telemarketers or other callers.  Or how her hugs feel when you are leaving to go home.  Or going to the fabric store and working on a project and the only person you could imagine helping you with it is your mother. 

I'm mad at cancer.  It's hurt some of the best people I know.  It's taken my mothers reproductive system already and now it's stealing her breasts.  That makes me so mad.  It lurks and makes you feel uneasy because you wonder where we'll find it next.  It sucks joy out of life. 

So Far, So Good

This past weekend my hubby had to witness something very ugly.  You know the Lenten promise I made, yeah, it has some physical ramifications. 

This weekend I went into TJ Maxx, aka. My Drug of Choice.  I needed to buy a foam roller for some sore muscles.  I knew that they had some nice yoga and fitness supplies and a discounted price compared to sports stores.  After much discussion we decided this falls under the necessity line item and not "fun shopping"  My task: walk in, get roller, purchase (most important), then leave.  Simple enough?  Well, I walked into the store.  I could have sworn there were little fairies singing around me.  My nostrils flared, my pupils dilated, my heart physically beat quicker.  I had the shakes.  The clothes had the new-clothes smell, the flesh-colored patent shoes seemed more shiny then usual.  The Bento boxes were discounted and stacked so pretty.  The sunglasses looked a little rosier.  The hair products promised more.  I was a mess.  Sadly, I'm getting excited just typing this update.  After an excruciating 10 minutes of virtual shopping, I found my roller, bought it, and left. 

I'm sick.  I know.  Don't judge.

Look out...the economy might tank!

One of my favorite services of the year is Ash Wednesday.  Granted, it took my mom some getting used to that our Baptist church has this service.  We do it all and I love it.  I have actually made lenten promises for years.  Some years I have given up soda with my sister.  In my wilder days I would give up bad words.  (Yeah, I said it).  Last year I gave up meat.  Little did I know that I would rarely pick it back up again.  So what, pray tell, am I giving up this year....

Shopping.

Yep.  I think giving up the meat, soda and profanities were cake compared to this little weakness.  I should probably clarity.  My family will still eat and we will have toilet paper.  It's the new shoes, cool kitchen gadgets, cute handbags, and Woot.com deals that are going away.  That's the kicker, no more Woot.  I'm pretty sure I single-handedly helped the online retailers stay afloat during the holiday season.  I would shop on my phone while still waking up in the morning.  It's a sickness. 

My first obstacle so far has been the boys Easter outfits.  I totally should have gotten that done before making this committment.  My solution - looks like the boys will be wearing matching ties and hats that their mother will be sewing.  This is a good time to clear out some of my fabric stash. 

Keep posted.  I'll probably need to vent from time to time over the next couple weeks!

Help! I lose things!

I lose things. 

This isn't a new problem.  Rather, it's been a trend for as long as I can remember.  I don't know that there was a single year through school when I didn't lose my class schedule before my first day of class.  We would have the little red. black and white slip mailed during the summer time and we'd eagerly call friends and see what classes we had with friends.  Based off of those conversations, more often then not I'd piece together through process of elimination what my days would look like.  How I ever made it through school that way, I don't know.

Once upon a time Bryan got me a ring that I loved so much I named it...Ka-Chow.  I lovingly wore Ka-Chow all of 2 days before I lost it.  For weeks I relived the lost-schedule nightmare and looked all over the place for it.  Days passed.  Weeks passed.  MONTHS passed and I finally admitted to Bryan that Ka-Chow was gone.  This wouldn't have been so bad had I not lost our digital camera just weeks before.  Yep.  Not my best moment.  Later Bryan bought a replacement ring that I named Ka-Chugga and shortly after, Ka-Chow resurfaced.

When my mother was released from the hospital last year the physician tried to hand me the dismissal papers.  Luckily, Mom saw through her post-op, drug-induced fog to mutter the words.  "No, not Dulce.  She loses things."  Yep.  I lose things.

All that to say, I have managed to lose not one but BOTH of the boys birthday presents.  I am scouring the house, looking through boxes and stacks of paper.  Looking at our "go-to" spots for important things.  No luck.  In an attempt to reduce clutter a few years back, I started buying tickets to shows for birthdays.  Jackson has gone to Blue Man Group, Cirque Illumination, Cirque Montage and others as a birthday present.  Somewhere hidden in the house are 4 tickets to Cirque Dreams: Pop Goes the Rock.  This should be the first year that we start this with Sebastian and I have secured 4 tickets to see STOMP.   

I'm hoping to foster a love of the theater like I have.  So far it's been working pretty well.  I'm thinking we may have to put a new twist on things, though, and say they have to find their curiously hidden present first. 

Support the March of Dimes!

Once upon a time I met this girl named Shonda.  I was 17ish and she was 18ish.  So yeah, that had to have been just a couple years ago.  :)  We got to spend the summer together at Windermere where we worked and played.  We had no idea then the directions our lives would take us.  We weren't thinking about marriage or babies, we were thinking about our tans and friends.  We were sharing a community bathroom, not thinking about mortgage payments.  We couldn't have known then what kind of wives or mothers we would turn into.  Well, you know about my 2 blessings.  Shonda is the mother of 4 blessings.


Here are a couple of video montages that give you an introduction to her March of Dimes Team: 2 Here, 2 In Heaven.   It also gives you an idea as to why I am so blessed to have known her and call her my friend.

Please, if you can, please support the March of Dimes and this team. 

Make photo slide shows at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

It's been 4 years

Four years ago our doctor whispered "Happy Birthday" to our child then handed him to Bryan.  Actually, there was probably a nurse or two in there somewhere but I was laying back and feeling real good. 

I knew Sebastian before he ever made eye contact with me.  I knew when he did and didn't want to be messed with.  I knew that he would only kick when he wanted to and when he did, look out.  I knew that he would want to snuggle with me and tune out the outside world from time to time.  And I knew that I would love him more than the sun and the moon.  I still do.

What I didn't know is the shades of color he would bring into my world.  I didn't know that he would be so hilariously funny.  I didn't know that he would be his brother's best friend and also his bully.  I didn't know that he would be able to eat 8 clementines in a given day and follow them with some hellacious gas.  I didn't know that when he turned 4, he would still snuggle with me and let me rock him for a little while longer. 

I love my son, Sebastian.  More and more every day he stretches my heart greater than he ever did my stomach (and I have the marks to prove it).  I can't wait to see what our next year holds. 

Would You Be My Friend?

So, a little something people may not realize about me is that I really suck at making friends.  I take that back, I can make friends and acquaintances but I've rarely had a Central Perk-Friends relationship.  You see, I often feel like I'm back in elementary school with a bad perm and glasses who was told that she was invited to a birthday party because the other girl's mother made her.  I have always wanted a Ya-Ya Sisterhood kind of bond with people but instead I come up short.  Here's the thing, I always feel like I'm not worthy of the friendship people give me.  I am terrible at correspondence.  I don't typically pick up the phone and dish about current events.  I'm more likely to be fashionably late than dutifully on time.  So, I'm don't fit the "best friend" criteria others may have.  Here's the thing, though.  I have a list of people that I consider my best friends.  Not because I deserve them, I don't.  It's because that in their awesomeness, they have accepted me.  Not as their best friend, they could do far better.  Honestly, the insecure frizzy haired bespeckled girl inside of me is delighted they talk to me at all.  So, here is a laundry list of some people.

I have a best friend named Bryan.  He loves me without my makeup and when I'm in sweats.  He tells me he loves me every day.  He thinks I'm beautiful or, at least, convinces me that he does.  He gets my quirkiness and moodiness.  He holds me when I fall apart and gives me space to move when I get antsy.  It's a delicate balance to live with me and he does it very well.  I love that guy.

I have this best friend named Jessica.  When they wrote the fruits of the spirit, it was actually a description of Jess.  You know how there are some people who seem to be near perfect.  Well, I met this perfect friend when we were 15.  We had to bunk together at Windermere for a whole summer.  Amazingly, she looked through my faults and obnoxious Goofy shirts and befriended me.  We have stood up in each others weddings, held each others newborns and watched our children play together.  In our 19+ year friendship her kindness has never wavered.  I have never once had a bad thought about her.  In her grace and kindness, she calls me her friends still.

I have this best friend named Heather.  She has a life about her that is incredible.  She proudly wears the necklaces to church that her children make her and isn't scared to dance with them in the middle of a Baptist wedding reception.  She sends cards just because.  I don't know what on earth I have done to deserve her as a friend.  I often wonder how she does it.  How does she radiate God's love to others just by breathing?  Does she make others feel the same way she makes me feel?  Loved, accepted, special, hopeful?  I would have loved to know her in high school.  I would have loved to have known her as a person on her wedding day.  I cherish that friendship like a precious treasure. 

I have these best friends known as the "Clique."  A group of misfits landed in Roach Missouri from all corners of Missouri, a Kansan and an Iowan.  Magic was made.  I can still to this day call that the happiest time of my life.  Sitting around talking about nothing and everything.  Crammed in the back of a Mustang to buy sunglasses or play ski-ball.  Doing a lip sync routine to a Gilda Radner SNL sketch.  How did I get the cool kids to like me?  I would sit there and wonder, do they really like me?  Am I contributing anything to their enjoyment?  Am I the one they took pity on and let me hang out?  I still don't know 100% percent but we still contact each other and I know that I would drop anything to be by their sides if they needed me.  I am like a fish without water being in a city without these friends sometimes. 

I have other best friends: 

• Kim who shows me that faith lived out is a beautiful thing.  Time with family is precious and fleeting and should be a priority.  
• Elaine who isn't afraid to show her feelings and can spot when I'm having a tough day in 30 seconds or less. 
• Kari, who actually accepted my sister's little sister as her friend.  She has more talent in her little finger than I do in my whole body. 
• Katherine who amazes me weekly.  Despite being harassed by me, her Bible Study leader, she excels in life.  She is a phenomenal mother.  She is so comfortable in her own skin it's ridiculous.  She goes to class and gets honors.  I am amazed that she likes me at all!

See, I am not worthy of any of them.  In most cases this is the first I have said that I call them my best friends when they aren't listening.  I dare not speak it out loud because they may take that title away.  They may confess that they are forced to be my friend by their mothers.  Here's the thing, I wouldn't be the person I am without them.  I wouldn't be proud of my inner nerd.  I wouldn't dance just because.  All I know is that my love and admiration only grows.  Thank you friends. 

People Let Me Tell You 'Bout My Best Friend

When the boys returned one day from Grammie and Grampy's, they had a new friend with them.  They have named him Steve.  Well, Steve has turned out to be the most docile passive aggressive toad in the Animal Planet.  Steve loves to swim, perch on the rock mountain we made for him and swim some more.  What he does not seem to love is eating the grasshopper we lovingly caught for him.  Now, in his defense, this hopper's a bully.  When in a staring contest, the hopper wins.  If in a jumping contest, yep, the hopper wins.  In fact, last evening the hopper actually jumped off Steve's back to then claim his rightful title of King of the Mountain.  Steve watched from a lower perch as the whole thing.

Oh the trials of trying to keep a little toad alive so your little ones can have a pet.  If only we can keep him properly fed so he doesn't hop off to his greater reward. 

Woody Allen Interviews Billy Graham

I think it's beautiful when a believer can enter into an intelligent conversation about faith and God without looking silly or super emotional.  Too often people get overwhelmed in dialog with another person who does not share the same belief and they resort to name calling or accusatory statements.  When your faith is as second nature to you as that of Billy in this interview, no question or statement catches you so off guard that you are backed against the ropes. 

I love to study and observe people in interviews and public speeches.  This was a great interview:

Reflections

Sometimes I have to go back and look at the pictures of my little guys and reevaluate. Like this one of Sebastian.

Here he is, this new member of the family. Only breathing air for a week at this point. He wasn't a fan of the picture taking and we had been up day and night for days. I was tired, wondering how I was going to get to know this little guy and settle him down for a picture. Those were my worries.

Today, I worry about how to get markings off the walls, Vick's Vapor Rub out of his hair, if the child safely lock in working on the car door and how to keep him and his ukulele out of our room at 4 AM. Yep, things sure are different.

Then there's Jackson.

This picture was taken when he was three. I knew that we were a couple months away from going from a house of three to a house of four. Would I be able to nurture him in the same way. Would I get to spend my "Mommy Day" with him in the same way? Would he resent the new family member? How would stay the stellar potty trainer he turned out to be?

Today I worry about his sensitive heart. Will today be the day he's made fun of at school? Will he ever grasp the concept of remorse for cutting holes in our new couch or his new sweatpants. Will I ever see the bottom of his bedroom floor without a rake? Will he make good friends at school. We're officially less than 10 years from him being of age to drive. Yep, things have changed.

It's nice to look back and see these pictures and know that we're doing okay. The things that were at the front of my mind seem silly now. Hopefully in a few years, my current fears will amount to nothing. The bad part is I know I'll probably be exchanging these small fears for others. Until then, I have pictures of these times my kisses could make things better.

Our Bi-Partisan View

So, in the Stevens house we are a true democracy...or is that democrazy? As proof that we the people can get along just fine, Bryan and I represent two sides of the political spectrum. While we differ on our political affiliation, we often have the same core values and desires. So, when the hub-bub about President Obama's address to schoolchildren came up, it stirred up some nice dialog in our home.

We the people of the Stevens home believe that it's pretty cool that our very busy president would dedicate part of his schedule to address the ones we value so highly, our children. We believe that while we did not unanimously vote him into office, we have a responsibility to our country that we love to support his position as president and strive to not diminish that role by bashing him before hearing him, especially in front our future generations. We believe that being a responsible parent is to discuss with our children the pros or cons of ideas that may be brought about by this speech and respect the fact that our young one wants to hear what his president has to say to him. We, Bryan and Dulce both, support this speech made today and will watch it this evening with our children.

So, not that you asked, that's our opinion.

My Zumbalicious Workout Playlist

So, some of my friends know that I get up at the crack of dawn once a week and start my day with a Zumba workout. Zumba is a workout that is desguised as latin dancing. I love it because once I'm finished, I'm sweating and look like I'm seconds from a heart attack. It's a great workout. Well, after talking with the instructor, I've decided to certify to teach Zumba. I'm planning on going in November (the next time the Zumba people are training in MO) and take the certification course. This is going to be a big challenge for me but I'm so very excited about it.

I have decided to start building my Zumbalicious workout playlist. It's a work in progress but I was to make sure that the Latin flare that I love is front & center in the music selections. Comments are welcome.

** Oh! To turn off the music that automatically plays on my blog, scroll the the bottom of the page!

My Trip of a Lifetime

In case some do not know, my father immigrated from El Salvador when he was in his early 20's. As a Christmas gift, Mom and Dad took my sisters and I on a once-in-a-lifetime trip to my dad's homeland. It was incredible. Well if a picture's worth a thousand words, have I got a novel for you! Here are just a couple of pics my oldest sister took with her high-tec camera. More will be coming soon. Enjoy!

I've Cyber-Arrived!

I've Cyber-Arrived! So, I'm going to try to do some blogging. We'll where this adventure takes us. First is was Myspace, then Facebook and now the mysterious blog. It's amazing how we find ways to update people on the goings-on in life without picking up the phone. I really think it's so that we 30-Somethings can live out our fantasies of being Doogie Houser, MD. Sadly, I don't think I'll be that guy.

So, I got the news that I have tendenitis in my rotator cuff and a slippery little knee cap that has no cartiledge around it. So this little kneecap that shifts from side to side can cause my leg to give out or cause me to drive with my left foot instead of the right(not easy to do). I reasoned, its' all downhill from here! I thought Bryan's grandfather was kidding when he said that at age 30, your body starts protesting. Wow, I'm so there. So, in reading the Message this afternoon I came across the passage that in 2nd Corinthians 12 says "My grace is enough; it's all you need. My strength comes into its own in your weakness. Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ's strength moving in on my weakness. Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size—abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become." While I'm far from handicap, I'm not so far gone that I'm not salvagable. And while I'm weak, His grace is strong enough to pull me up. So, with my brace on my knee, my prescription in hand and a grimace on my face, I'll march to my physical therapy appointments knowing that Christ is able to take over and I'll just come along for the ride.

Be Blessed and Peaceful~
D