Tag Archives: children

little victories.

I just got done reading this article about who Supermom is (it’s click bait, certainly, so I’m sure you can figure it out). And, as a mom, of course it resonated with me.

I think the reason there is so much pressure put on moms (on dads, too, but to a lesser degree) is that there really is a lot at stake. I mean, you’re shaping a human being. The decisions you make each day have a direct effect on the person entrusted in your care and will inevitably contribute to conversations had in a comfy chair in a therapist’s office years later.

In the day-to-day of motherhood, each day brings with it the little failures — the tantrums, the times you lose your patience and raise your voice, the times your kid wakes up in his crib before you and, when you finally hear him, it’s after a poopsplosion, etc. And because the stakes are so high, it’s easy to focus in on those little failures and deduce that you’re doing a really horrible job.

Yayyyyy… :\

But just like in everything, the fact is that sometimes you nail it, and sometimes you don’t. So why not focus on the times you nail it?

As our weekend is winding down, I gotta say *brushes shoulders off* this weekend, we nailed it.

That is, we are currently celebrating a few small victories in our house. Notably:

  • Dax’s lunch was comprised COMPLETELY of vegetables yesterday. And he asked for more! (So what if it was just cucumbers? Baby steps.)
  • He now understands reasoning, so instead of completely freaking out and throwing the dinner I make him, he allows me to bribe him to eat his dinner with things like animal crackers and marshmallows. It’s not perfect, but I’d rather him have a belly full of real food and marshmallows than going hungry like he had been.
  • He has learned how to actually kiss. And I would venture to say that there are few things better than the feeling of little tiny toddler lips on your cheek. Ugh. So perfect!

So yeah. It’s been a good one. :)

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some daxisms.

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My son Dax is awesome. Here are some great things he says sometimes and what they mean.

“No Mama do it.”

Translates to: “Mama, please don’t do the thing that you are currently doing.”

“Dax hold it.”

Translates to: “Please give me some item whose name I can’t verbalize yet, but I fully expect you to figure it out.”

“Mama’s lolos.”

Translates to: “Look! Mama is eating noodles!”

“Mama pray Why.”

Translates to: “Mama, please pray for Super WHY!”

“Mama run; Mama gitchoo.”

Translates to: “Mama, please run so that I can get you.”

“No ews mouth!”

Translates to: “Please do not wipe away the snot that is dribbling from my nose and into my mouth.”

“Dada kiss Mama.”

Translates to: “Dada, kiss mama.”

“Strawbess? Yergurt? And?”

Translates to: “I would like to eat strawberries and yogurt.”

“No yes share!”

Translates to: “I will not share, even though you just told me, ‘Yes, share.'”

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bad guys.

I can’t remember how young I was when I learned that there are “bad guys” out there, but it was pretty early. I remember being not older than maybe 5 or so, and my cousin (two years younger than me) and i were at Disney and in line for Splash Mountain and I remember a man, probably a dad, in his thirties or forties, letting my cousin and I go ahead of him (probably because he couldn’t see our family watching and thought we might be alone). And I distinctly remember panicking and telling my cousin that this man was going to steal us away and kill us, so I grabbed my cousin’s hand and dragged him to the front of the line so we could evade danger.

This afternoon, Dax and I were sitting on the floor watching some LEGO Marvel superhero show on Netflix (he really wanted to see Hulk and this was all that was available). He knew who most all the heroes were — Spider-Man, Iron Man, Thor, and OF COURSE Hulk — but these good guys were doing battle (in the sky!) with a bunch of enemies I didn’t recognize. But I tried to explain to Dax who they were anyway.

“Those are bad guys,” I said.

“Bad guys,” he repeated.

“Yep, Hulk is fighting the bad guys. Don’t worry. Hulk will win.”

A few minutes later, Dax got up from my lap and went out onto the lanai.

“Bad guys, sky,” he said, pointing to the horizon.

“Oh no, Bubs, there aren’t any bad guys in the sky for REAL. That was just pretend.”

“Bad guys, sky,” he said again.

And then I felt my stomach drop. Because I’d just lied to my son. It wasn’t even half a day ago I was in my car hearing the latest reports of the Islamic State and comments from Pakistani leaders who are disappointed with Malala Yousafzai’s awarding of the Nobel Peace Prize because she is no more than just a “useless girl” and feeling overwhelmed with the number of bad guys in the world.

But there are heroes, too. There are good people, too, and I hope that I am providing enough examples for my son so that when he is old enough to realize the bleak state of the world, he won’t be nearly as cynical as I am.

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what matters.

Being that Sundays are the start of my week (yay ministry!) Fridays are the start of my weekend. I like to try and do all the chores that have gone unnoticed throughout the busyness of the week on Fridays so that Saturdays can be reserved for fun things.

Being that I’ve been nursing a sick child back to health, this week’s chores have not just slipped under the radar; they’ve multiplied. Frustrated by the state of my house, I was scrubbing my kitchen counters with more vigor and anger than I usually do. Over the scratchy sounds of the scrub brush on our plastic-y countertops, I heard a tiny voice in the other room.

“Mama, puzzle.”

“Be right there, bud.”

“Mama, help.”

“In a minute, love. Just gotta finish cleaning this kitchen.”

“Mama, puzzle?”

And then I stopped and thought to myself.

In ten years, am I going to wish I spent more time keeping my house clean? Or am I going to desperately wish I just had one more afternoon with my two-year-old and a puzzle on a not-so vacuumed floor?

So I dropped the scrub brush and headed into the other room to find my boy.

“Do you wanna do this puzzle with Mama?”

“YEAH!” he shouted as he plopped his diaper-padded butt down on the floor with a squish.

Oh my heart. My heart, my heart, my heart.

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hope.

Even though my husband is actually the one who gets paid to do youth ministry, I actually teach a middle school discipleship class at our church on Wednesday nights. That’s right; one other brave volunteer and I face off against upwards of 20 middle schoolers each week by choice and I happen to love every minute of it.

Well, if I’m being honest, every minute of it that I’m not scolding them for doing weird things like drawing on each other’s faces.

Last night our lesson was on grace (specifically, how God will always love you no matter how many faces you draw on). To start out the class I had the students write down all the things they like about themselves and then share them with us (the point being that once you are in Christ, God only sees the good in you and not the bad). One little girl’s answer really struck me.

“I love that I’m really good at the cello,” she started, “and I love that I’m so pretty. Like, I’m really pretty. And I love that.”

Now, if I were to stand up in front of a group of my peers and say that, I might get smacked. But I love that she so boldly stated that for three reasons:

  1. She stated it as if it was a total inarguable fact (and, if I could weigh in, it absolutely is).
  2. She wasn’t ashamed or bashful about this.
  3. In a world where the vast majority of teenage girls today say the exact opposite about themselves every day, how refreshing!

Today when I went grocery shopping, I had so many people stop and tell me about how beautiful my baby is (isn’t he though?) and the whole time I just kept thinking about that girl in my class, and praying that my son never doubts his unique beauty or his worth in this world, despite all the things society may tell him.

And so, today (and yesterday) I’m grateful for the hope in a future where kids/teenagers/adults/people rise above a society built on self-esteem crushing lies.

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things i love thursday! (september 5, 2013)

Things have been so nuts! Dan is getting ready to head out of town AGAIN, and we just launched all of our fall programs at church, so things be cray cray around the Durrenberger house. (I HAVE been blogging, by the way. Check it out over HERE please!)

But it’s Thursday and I have so much to be grateful for. And SO!

dax_bookshelf

THINGS I LOVE THIS WEEK:

  • FSU FOOTBALL IS BACK and dang, our quarterback looks good!
  • There is a Seminoles club in Naples! Yay!
  • Beer.
  • The above picture — Dax looks just like me/my brother at this age. So fun! (And no, before you ask, he isn’t walking yet. But so soon!)
  • Sleeping in. (WHAT???!!!! WITH A BABY???!! HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?!)
  • Frappucinos.
  • When Dan and I just happen to randomly wake up at the same time in the middle of the night.
  • Teaching Dax how to blow kisses and clap.
  • Reading.
  • New music from two Cases! (Neko and Eric)
  • Side note: no one makes the F-word sound as beautiful as Neko does.
  • New music from Libby!
  • Taking Dax to the park and letting him experience grass and dirt on his little boy body.
  • Sharing Daddy’s glasses.
  • Big, gourmet burgers ON THE CHEAP.
  • Old dudes wearing shirts that just say, “Naples.”
  • Quiet times in coffee shops.
  • Learning new songs on the piano. Just ’cause.
  • Being impractical with my spending money. Finally. (Hence, new music and new piano books.)
  • Mom is coming to visit this weekend!
  • Random strangers coming up and telling me how beautiful my baby is, particularly “his” blue eyes. (To which I reply, “Actually, they’re mine.”)
  • Secret blog posts by my friends.
  • Hugs from middle schoolers and high schoolers.
  • Getting to volunteer in student ministry again.
  • Being able to encourage a brand new mom at Publix. She was shopping with her mom and ogling Dax sitting in my cart and saying, “How do you shop without help?” I looked at her with her six-week-old boy in a carseat in the big part of the cart and said, “BABYWEARING. Also, having a 13-month-old who can hold his body and head up on his own helps a lot. It gets better, I promise!” (I love love LOVE encouraging new moms because I believe they are the ones on earth that need it most.)
  • Xylophones.
  • Watching Dax play with babies his age at church. So cute.
  • Rain at naptime.
  • And finally… beer again because duh.

What do you love this week?

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the worst tuesday.

Summer is winding down and fall is supposedly creeping in but I can’t feel it because it’s still hot as crap and the rain still won’t stop and I can’t differentiate my Mondays from my Thursdays or my Saturdays because everything is always the same.

Except this past Tuesday. Tuesday was vastly different from any other day of my life.

Late Monday, I noticed that Dax was running a bit of a fever. I never actually took his temperature, but I could feel that he was warm to the touch. Apart from that, he was acting completely normal; he was playing happily, sleeping fine, not coughing, not sniffling, not anything out of the ordinary. So I chalked the fever up to teething and just gave him Tylenol sporadically and thought nothing of it.

When I came home from work on Tuesday (thankfully a half hour earlier than I normally come home on Tuesdays) I found him lethargically lying belly-up on our babysitter’s chest.

Jeez, I thought. These 12-month molars must be brutal. 

I took him from the sitter, handed her a check, and said goodbye. I then took Dax into his nursery to nurse him and put him down for a nap. When we sat in the rocking chair, he nursed for maybe thirty seconds before stopping suddenly and throwing his head back.

His eyes rolled back and he started to shake and stopped breathing and it was a seizure.

The next few minutes were a blur of me screaming uncontrollably into his lifeless, purple face, splashing water on his body, crumpling to the floor and clumsily dialing 9-1-1, scream-sobbing into the receiver that MY TINY LITTLE BABY BOY IS HAVING A SEIZURE MA’AM AND HE IS ONLY ONE YEAR OLD AND PLEASE GOD CAN SOMEONE HELP ME HE’S NOT BREATHING DID YOU SAY SOMEONE IS COMING WELL WHERE ARE THEY HOW MUCH LONGER PLEASE HELP ME I AM SO SCARED PLEASE.

And then suddenly my house was flooded with upwards of ten men and women in different uniforms — EMS, firefighters, police officers — all trying to simultaneously calm me down and take care of Dax who, by that point, had stopped seizing and was draped across my chest in a collapsed heap of laborious breaths and pained sighs.

An ambulance ride, ER admittance, flu swab, chest x-ray, and long chunk of waiting around later, we found out that Dax came down with some virus (probably roseola) which caused him to have that high fever. The sudden temperature spike in his body triggered a febrile seizure.

Thankfully these seizures don’t cause any injury to the brain or the child — they’re just terrifying as hell for anyone, particularly a parent, who happens to be present.

And so, I learned the hard way that (until he’s older than 5) anytime I sense that Dax may be getting a fever, I have to be incredibly aggressive in treating it to avoid this happening again.

hospitaldax

As terrible as this whole experience was, there were some surprising bright spots. The first was in the form of a community — a new one — that wasted no time in showing us love. Three friends came to visit us in the hospital (two of which brought us food), and another friend came to check on us the following day. Not to mention the flood of prayers that washed over us by the way of texts, phone calls, and Facebook messages.

The second good thing to come of this was a healthy dose of perspective. Before I left for work that morning, I was freaking out about our house being a mess for the babysitter. I was running about like a chicken with its head cut off trying to straighten up and clean up and even as I was driving away I was mentally kicking myself for not having enough time to do the dishes. Because I was nursing when Dax began to seize, I was basically naked when the emergency team showed up at my house. I couldn’t have given two sheets about the fact that I was bearing it all (or that my house was messy) while a bunch of firefighters and paramedics did a life-saving dance around me. All I cared about was my baby and whether or not he was going to be okay.

Even though he’s technically still contagious, today you can hardly tell Dax is sick at all, let alone that he just had a freaking seizure. He’s eating a bit more today, playing happily, and sleeping great.

And I am worn a bit ragged but so very grateful.

happydax

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