Where are they now?

It's been awhile - goes without saying - since I've updated the blog on the boys and what they're up to. No better than than when waiting on hold for a call for 20+ minutes right?

It's only fair that the first born go last so I'll start with Charles. (Please excuse any third born bitterness there)

Our little cowboy is 8 months old and he's a wild one! It's amazing to me how very different babies can be even from the early ages. Charles is so much more .....

So I guess that phone call ended up interrupting this blog post. Over a month ago. Oops! Let me try again...

Our little cowboy is NINE months old and he is still a wild one. William seemed to always know boundaries even as a baby. Didn't try crawling off our bed, didn't want to climb over the dog and land face first in the carpet, never crawled in the bath tub sticking his entire face in the water...he was reserved. Silly me, I just thought my 9 month old was listening when I told him 'knees or bottom in the bath'. Charles seems to have no fear of things where William did. They're so different!

He's as happy as they come, laughing and smiling all the time. He's standing very well and occasionally takes a few steps along furniture before he decides crawling is faster. He eats a lot, though he seems to have a bit of a gag reflex and it takes him a few tries before he likes something new. But he's always willing to try again! He is the opposite build of his big brother - in the 40th percentile for height and 80th for weight. I could eat up his chunky thighs all day long! He sprouted 2 teeth this week and I determined either teething is like child birth and you force yourself to forget it with each child, or it is just way harder for him than it was for William. I'm glad we are done for the moment! He babbles and talks a lot, and has learned that the sound 'mama' usually gets him whatever he wants. But he uses it with everyone :) And he couldn't be more enamored with his big brother. He thinks anything William does is just the coolest. 

William is 5. That's right. 5. Last time I wrote he was 4 so I've clearly failed him in the worst of ways. He is 5 going on 15. He's as smart as ever and has grown into his intellect a little bit. The temper tantrums seem to be (for the most part) a thing of the past and he generally 'uses his words' like we begged him to for years. Only problem, his words are incredibly argumentative and logical. I never thought there would come a day when I'd be exhausted from arguing! But he still has the softest heart. His love for people, for his family and for Jesus fill the room. He is so caring and compassionate - if you're hurting, he's hurting. He loves nothing in the world more than his baby brother, but dada and mommy are really close in second place. He's starting tee ball next weekend, says things like 'I gotta tell ya somethin...' And sleeps in boxer briefs. If I haven't said it before, he's not a baby bear anymore. But like all moms would say, when I look at this 

I see this

He's my baby.

And loretta? Oh she's growing. William likes to find out how big she is each week. This week she's as long as a scallion. She changes on Sundays (nope, she doesn't grow all week it instantly changes) so we'll see what veggie she is next. Did I even blog about her name? Or about her at all?? Surely I did. If not, tune in next time (or sometime) for my 'third child problems' series. I'd use a hashtag, but I'm way too out of pop culture to do that. 

Until then...hope you are enjoying tax season far more than I am. It's my last crazy busy one for awhile. A long while. There's a cliff hanger for ya! 

Not scared to admit it

I'm going to be honest here for a minute - despite who I may offend, including my sweet little daughter. I'm not writing to offend - and I hope I don't, I'm just writing about the most recent happenings. I started writing this about a month ago but never finished so I thought I'd go back and see if anything has changed. It hasn't :) so I think it's safe to post - and hopefully not offend.

I wish I had a dollar for every time I've heard something to the effect of...
"Oh my gosh are you SO excited you finally got your girl?"
"third time's a charm!"
"yay! finally! a girl!"
"aww, you must be so excited!"
"a girl! now you can be done!"

First of all, I didn't know we were inverse of China. I didn't know girls were the prized possessions and boys should be thrown out with the bath water. I've been surprised at the overwhelmingly polarized opinions on it actually. I didn't really know the gender of a baby carried so much weight on either side.

Second, I have to hold in my laughter when people refer to me "finally getting my girl" or implying in some way or another that this is my heart's deepest desire. Now - sweet baby girl Wallis - I am over the moon with love and excitement for your arrival, I truly am. But, I'd be over the moon with love and excitement for a boy too and if I'm being real, I actually would have chosen a third boy if I had to choose. 

I know. The sacrilege. How dare I speak the words.

I'm not all that partial, so I'm not saying I have disappointment in my heart but I just find it incredibly ironic that it's so readily assumed that I've been longing for something I've never received when, in actuality, a house full of boys would have been how I would have written the story. I'm not saying girls are bad or someone with a house full of girls should wish they had a house full of boys - that's not what I mean at all. But for me, I just would have written it that way.

I love little girls. I do! They're adorable and precious and have cute little shoes  and later they can share clothes and jewelry and life's secrets with their moms. I get it. Girls are awesome. And man if I could collect cash every time someone tells me 'a daughter is a daughter for life, a son is a son until he takes a wife'. I get it people.

But I know boys. I love boys. I'm good with boys. 

I hate tutus. I strongly dislike big bows or other large hair accessories, and I'm not even that big of a fan of small bows. I find girl wardrobes (not to exclude my own) fairly intimidating and I'm not really sure when you wear bloomers and if they go under tights or over...and what are they for even? I don't like prissy clothes and have no clue how to put it all together even if I wanted to. I don't like when a closet has 2 colors - pink and light pink - but I'll be honest and say I do enjoy laughing at how much austin dislikes it :)

I don't know about girl toys. Or calm behavior. Or other things that are very unfairly stereotyped as girl-type behavior. I don't care much for dance or cheer leading or other girly endeavors. And hey - maybe that's just because I never fit into that mold myself, who knows. There's a quote like 'he is afraid of that which he does not understand' right?

 I like the 'shake it off and move on' approach much better than coddling. I like rough and tough. I've just always thought I'd be a better mom to a boy than a girl. While the idea of a baby who I may not have to chase as much and a toddler who may sit and have a tea party instead of throw all of the toys off the banister sounds very appealing to this exhausted mama, I kind of enjoy throwing the toys too.

I know that God has a perfect reason for why this baby is a girl and I'm very, very excited to face the challenge. But, while many people saw a pink cupcake and were overcome with relief and more excitement than had they seen blue, that relief was more like intimidation for me. I'm not one to shy away from a challenge and the competitive side in my says "we can conquer this" - but had the cupcake been filled with blue icing I would probably have fallen asleep with a little lighter of a heart thinking, "whew, dodged a bullet with that one". I guess I just never thought of it from the other side.

And last, and this is the best insight into my brain, the notion that "now we can be done" just makes the dominant parts of my personality want to convince myself to have a fourth juuuuuuust to spite some people. (Even though the logical part of me says that's insane) In no way did the gender of this baby, or any of our babies, determine the number of babies we should or would have. And if WE aren't even to stand here and determine when/if we should have babies (cause clearly we didn't have much power on that one) then who is anyone else to determine that NOW that we FINALLY have the prized baby girl who will unlock the door to life's greatest happiness, NOW we can be done????

I'm not mad. I realize it may sound annoyed but really I'm chuckling as I type and I literally find myself biting my lip to avoid laughing when I receive the comments I mentioned above. And I get them allll the time. All the time.

What has changed since I originally wrote this is I've enjoyed seeing my life through the eyes of Loretta. I remember how irritating it was to have my brothers always hovering over me in protection, but to see the older brother love from William's perspective has been such a blessing to me. I've also loved watching the bond between my 2 boys develop and I think a girl will allow that bond to remain special and unique. I'm excited for our third baby - along with fear and trembling and anxiety and intimidation - and I know that if she never wears a bow in her hair or if she wears one every day it won't change how much we love her or what God's plans for her are. I'm excited to see austin's heart melt and the way he will parent a little girl. I'm excited to see how she changes us in ways we couldn't have otherwise. I would have loved a third boy, but I love my baby girl all the same and I can't wait to see how she adds to our family in 4 very fast approaching months.

Oh, Hi, It's Me.

Dearest Blog,

I have thought a lot about you over the last month. I've thought of posts like 'Third Child Problems', 'a boy mom trying to fit into a girl mom world', 'crazy cowboy', and countless little stories and anecdotes about William. I've mentally written a few posts and told myself to be sure to document them later. But unfortunately later generally means after bedtime, and lately 'after bedtime' has been comprised of cleaning vomit covered clothes, cleaning up pet stains, packing lunches, doing my best to put my washing machine out of commission, and - oh yeah - getting an early start on tax season.

So I've thought of you. I've missed you. I still love you. And if it's truly the thought that counts then you can rest easy knowing you're pretty high on my priority list...I just haven't gotten through the items above you yet.

I've meant to tell you about the amazing work arrangement I've been blessed with that will start in June. I've wanted to write about our 7th anniversary trip to San Francisco and ask how on earth married couples manage to spend one ounce of energy focused on each other sometimes between all else going on. I've wanted to share some of the struggles we've been dealing with lately with our sweet Charles and his stomach. I've wanted to, and I think I will. I just don't know when.

Thanks for always being there waiting. Patiently waiting for me to return to you. I'll try and do better, though you've heard that before haven't you? I will. One day. When life slows down.

In 18 years perhaps??

Sincerely,

Your dearest admirer

William Wednesday

It's too bad I just recently wrote about how big William's heart is, because this weekend he made mine explode with how much he loves.

Sunday I told him that Monday was going to be a very special day because it was mommy and dada's anniversary. He asked what an anniversary was, so I explained it, and I told him that 7 years ago we got married so it was our 7th anniversary. He asked, "Can I come to the anniversary?" I told him that he absolutely could come, but it was just going to be at our house and we weren't going very much to celebrate until January.

"So I can be married to you???"

Melt my heart sweet one. Yes, you can be married to me.

"So I can be a part of you and dada's special day?"

"Well, it wouldn't be me and dada's day if it didn't include you."

So, Monday morning after I got breakfast ready I went to wake him up. He is usually not much for mornings and waking him up takes awhile. I rubbed his back and said, "William I made a special anniversary breakfast" - that's all it took. He popped out of bed and said "oh! yeah! that's today!" He and Austin quickly got dressed so we could all eat breakfast together. 

William was really happy until I told him we had to get ready to go to school and work. He started crying because he "wanted to stay home and not miss the anniversary!" I told him we wouldn't be missing anything and we'd have a special dinner to celebrate too, so he eventually got over it.

Every night at dinner after we say our prayer we say what our favorite part of the day was. We went around the table and William's response was, "Being a part of your anniversary and being married to you AND to dada" That boy loves us so much, and he loves to talk about all of our family and friends all over the country who he loves and wants to see. I'm always amazed at how connected he feels to people he rarely sees. My heart just overflows with how strong his love is.

7 Years

In movies you always hear people say 'no one tells you it'll be this hard' -- but honestly, and I've written about it in other areas before, they do. They tell you about college, about parenthood, about life - and they certainly tell you about marriage. People do tell you. But when you're 23 and in love you think all of those trials and struggles will never come to YOUR marriage. Yours will be different.

And you know what? It is. They all are. Each marriage is unique to the 2 people in the union and the marriages that last aren't the ones made of the best people necessarily. They aren't the ones where the couple is extra compatible or never faced hardships or never lost that 'loving feeling'. We have no clue what happens in a marriage, and it's not for us to know. All I know is that the marriages that last are the ones that are true. True to each other and true to themselves.

In church yesterday our pastor made a comparison between the relationship between God and Jesus and a marriage between husband and wife. Jesus said to doubt him or not accept him is to reject the Father because they are one in the same, and it is (or should be) true in marriage too. To dishonor ones spouse is to dishonor that person too, because the two became one. The unity between a husband and wife is one you can't understand without living it and truly absorbing it, and when a husband and wife are in that true union you can't love one without loving the other.

One of the most perilous things I've seen happen in other relationships has been to watch families and friends get in the way of that unity. While they may mean well, and families most often do, to build a wedge or create party lines between a husband and wife is to stand in the way of that oneness. I feel so fortunate that not only have we had a great supporting cast who has loved us and rooted for us all along, no matter how far we've moved away, but in our circumstances we have had no choice but to stand together, on our own, and be one. We have had to forge our own path and in so doing we have found people who love and support us both. Not that it would have gone any differently had we never moved off on our own, it's just one of the benefits I've seen to the depth of our marriage. And one of the greatest assets in truly loving each other more today than we did 7 years ago. 

Here's to 7 more. And 7 more after that. And another 7 when we get there. 

God Doesn't Make Mistakes

I'm starting this on Sunday (Nov 2) just as a reference to how long it may take before I finish it. I don't usually draft like that - it's usually a 15-30 minute quick thing, just write what I think and be done with it. But this one is just a little different.

I went back and forth on what I'd title this, once I knew I'd eventually write it. My first thought was 'well that wasn't supposed to happen' and next was 'oops'. Shortly after I began brainstorming the post another little 'well that wasnt supposed to happen' happened and then I realized that's just selling God short. Just because I didn't intend for something to happen doesn't mean it wasn't supposed to happen - God doesn't make mistakes. And then I realized that was a far better choice. So, are we ready now?

First, I'll start with our second 'mistake'. Austin and I have been thinking about and praying for our next army move for quite awhile. We thought we had a few ideas of what would be best overall considering our immediate family,our extended family, Austin's career and my career, and how we can serve God and his church. Those are a lot of factors to layer into one decision and we thought we had some good, solid ideas. We had narrowed it to 2 things: first, Austin was going to apply to get into a specialized intelligence group which would give us stability in our location for the duration of his time. If that didn't work out, we had 3 locations he was going to try and arrange. The top one on our list had something like 80 open spots for Austin's rank for 2015, so it seemed almost like a perfect shoe in as our back up plan. The group he applied for published an article, shortly after he submitted his application, saying they were accepting few, if any, people for 2015, and after that article came out he got an email letting him know he wasn't going to be sent further in the application process. Disappointed, but we didn't skip a beat and he emailed his branch manager about his next move, explained what he's done in his career and what he'd like to do. He's been on 3 deployments and never once been granted his assignment of choice, so I guess it seemed fair to me (not at all biased) for someone to grant him one now - especially with all the open slots.

A little army lesson for ya: Each job assignment in the army has a branch manager which is just a guy sitting at a desk whose sole job for 3 years is to assign duty stations. Or at least that's how I understand it. I don't know this, but I'd imagine he answers phone calls and emails nonstop from disgruntled soldiers wanting their orders changed or wanting special treatment. He probably hates his job, and he's probably equally hated by the people he assigns. He hears all about how much people hate their assignments and want them changed and whining like babies - sometims I wonder if he purposely doesn't grant requests just to spite people. Anyway. Point of that rant is - the response Austin got to his list of ideal locations and his plea for his preferences was 'spots available to you are in fort Lewis, fort Bragg, or fort hood.' No discussion, no negotiation, and no consideration of the spots we wanted. Didn't even acknowledge it had been written. 

Fort Lewis is in Washington state and I've heard fantastic things about the base and most units there. Not to mention it's pretty and in an area of our country I've never travelled. But, it's rumored that the job available to him there involves a majority of time being spent away from home. So that was out. And then we started thinking about the 2 remaining options. Career-wise Austin thought fort Bragg (in North Carolina) may be a better choice and if he'd chosen it I would have been fine with his decision. It's no secret that while I'm proud of my Texas roots I'm not dying to get back to the heat. But the more we talked, the more Texas made a lot of sense. And by the end of the day I found myself in the most ironic twist of my life: I was actually verbally PREFERRING to move to Texas. And not just Texas...KILLEEN Texas. Not even a glamorous or enticing spot. For anyone who knew me in my "I want to explore north of here" days, this is probably just as shocking to you as it was to me.

I spent years dreaming of moving away and exploring a new location, and I was proud of our time spent out on our own. We love going back for vacations and visits, but I was pretty rock solid that I had no desire to live in the state of Texas again...at least not for another decade. Again, nothing against the place or the people - we absolutely love both - I just didn't see myself wanting to go back. As glamorous as our visits back can be sometimes, the truth is we've been gone a long time and not only have we changed in that time but so have the people we left behind. Going "back" isn't as simple as it sounds. At any other point in the last 9 years I think if Id heard the possibility of going to fort hood I may have gone back kicking and screaming. That just wasn't supposed to happen! That wasn't in our plans.

And yet, when it was all lined up and all things considered, I can honestly say I do not think there's anywhere (ok...maaaaaaybe Denver....) Id rather be. Seriously. Killeen Texas is, in this season of my life, the most perfect location. God knew that, and God knew neither Austin or I would ever have even mentally considered it if the scenario didn't play out how it did. So while I thought that wasn't supposed to happen, God doesn't make mistakes. He may not always give us what we want, but He always gives us what we need.

No, God doesn't always give us what we want, that's for sure. I wanted charles 18 months before I got him, but I (sometimes weakly) trusted that God had a perfect time for that. He would grant us the opportunity to raise another child when He decided it needed to happen, and of course He did. Charles lights up my life and there isn't a day when I don't look at him at least once and think 'God works perfectly in His time' as I thank Him for the gift. But, the first few months were a pretty big adjustment. Going from one kid to two is a huge change, and going from having a very independent kid back to a baby who needs something (all. The. Time.) is also a huge change. We knew it'd turn our world upside down and yet we weren't quite prepared. Or maybe we were as prepared as we could be, who knows. What I do know is we didn't feel settled into a normal life until charles was about 2.5 months old. All of a sudden our family felt normal. Our routine made sense. Things were back in order and we were loving living as a family of 4. Conversations about being done having kids circulated on occasion and though we hadn't made any concrete decisions to close that door, we weren't very convinced our one-time dream of a large family was going to be best. If anything, we did determine a bigger age gap is better than we had originally thought and from the looks of it I would have guessed charles would turn 3 before I'd potentially give birth again.

But God doesn't always give us what we want.

Just as God had a perfect time for Charles Archer, and just as his conception and birth was miraculous and from Him, God also had a perfect time for Charles to become a big brother and we are just sitting in the back seat while God leads us. In late September I began to notice little things that made me think "hmmmmmm" and when I came up 3 days late in my cycle (something that I wouldn't have batted an eye at 2 years ago) I was certain of the cause. As insane as it seemed in my head, I just knew...and I was right. $17, two tests, and a thousand tears later I called Austin to tell him we were having another baby.

I've known for just about 2 months now(ok 3 since it's now a month past when I started writing...) as I'm just about 3 (ok almost 4) months along, and I still don't quite have my head wrapped around the reality. A baby. Two babies. Two in diapers. Two under two. Two dependent, precious, loving, needy creatures at the same time. While I grieved a lot over the loss of Charles being my little baby for as long as I would have liked, and while I grieved a lot over the loss of the wine I had been reacquainting myself with, I am almost to the point of being excited for our upcoming bundle of joy. And now a month later I can actually say I am anxiously excited.

It won't be easy. I would imagine our transition into life as a family of 5 will be even harder than life as a family of 4. But that's part of the beauty of God's plans versus ours. He knew He had a third baby in His plans and He knew moving back to Texas would be the easiest way for us to adjust to that life. The move itself will be hard - no way around that. Moving 3 kids and 2 pets almost 2,000 miles across the country 2 weeks after a c-section in the HEAT OF THE SUMMER while preparing for kindergarten and a huge adjustment in our daily lifestyle won't be a piece of cake...and there's no way around that. But we are both so confident and at peace about the fact that this is God's most perfect plan for the Wallis family of 5 in 2015. And we are excited to get started!

So get ready for more lapses in writing and then random posts about moving struggles, grieving our goodbyes here, and heart wrenching comments from William like 'I wish we could live in this house forever'. It's all coming. 6 months is such a short time to uproot everything and start over, and yet it's such a long long time to have to slowly rip off a bandaid. Prayers for all of us are always welcome, and especially in this time of change. 

But I can fall asleep each night knowing that even though God doesn't always give us what we want...even though  William can't live in this house forever...God will always give us what we need. He doesn't make mistakes.

William's Big Heart

I wanted to write this yesterday but I had 2 doctors appointments and a lot going on, so the day got away from me. But I can't skip it! His heart is just too big.

William is a passionate boy. Passionate about his favorite toys at the time, passionate about his favorite people, passionate when he's angry, and most of all he's passionate about his baby brother. Other than the first time he saw Austin hold Charles at the hospital, he's never once been jealous or seem threatened by Charles - he adores him beyond words and loves nothing in this world more.

The monday before thanksgiving Charles had his 6 month doctor appointment. (He's doing great, btw) 6 month appointments come with vaccines which are never fun for parents. But, they're apparently not fun for loving and protective big brothers either. William wanted to go to the appointment as he never wants to miss out on something related to Charles but he didn't know what he was in for. As the nurse gave Charles his shots and Charles began to cry William instantly started sobbing. He didn't whimper, he didn't whine, and it didn't take time for him to process his emotions. Tears just instantly streamed down his face and the rest of the day he was talking about how much he hated Charles's shots!

His passion goes beyond empathy though. When we were at disneyland at one point all of the other adults went on a roller coaster too fast/dangerous for me or william, so we sat out and played carnival type games. Charles was awake in his stroller happy as could be as I loaded up a game card with $20 for william to play. He played one game twice and then settled in on the game where you aim a water squirter at a target and whoever raises their character first (by having the most accurate aim) wins. William played that game 9 times. He won when it was a game against just me, but the prize was pretty small because it needed more players. We waited for more kids to come and then he played more. On the last time he FINALLY won the 'big' mickey (about 11 inches) and he was so excited. He beamed with pride as the lady handed him his prize. Then, as we turned to leave he instantly lunged the mickey in Charles's face and proudly said 'Charles look what I won you! It's a Mickey! Do you love it??'

And love it he did. He chewed on the ears and held the Mickey in his stroller and william had a boost of pride every time he saw his baby brother playing with the special prize.

On our last night william waited up in bed for Yaya. Papa and oh gosh to come say goodnight and goodbye, and they told me as they said bye he started crying. He loves our time with family and hates hates hates his goodbyes.

While wrangling his emotions can be a tiring task, I wouldn't change it for the world. That boy has a heart as big as an elephant and to see the love when it pours out makes this mama very, very proud.

(Charles just woke up from a deep sleep and was very, very confused...but william loves to climb in his crib and kiss him good morning!)