THE MANY FACES OF LUKE
4 month checkup
27 3/4 inches Long
17 lbs 9 ounces :)
17 1/2 inch head
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Thursday, August 5, 2010
L is for Luke
It's been so long.
quick not so efficient recap:
Got pregnant, bought a house, Became parents of two and home owners the same day!
Lucas Michael was blessed into our lives on June 3rd. We call him Luke, Ashton calls him Little Baby Brother Luke. Little being the operative word here.. He was 9lbs 8 ounces and 22 1/4 inches long. He is perfect! Ashton is in love and an amazing Big Brother! Our house fits us well it has great bones and with a little work it will be stunning and completely perfect!
2 month checkup today :)
Luke is 13 lbs 11 ounces & 25 inches long. he is above and beyond the 90th percentile in height and weight. His head has gone down from the 90th to the 50th so the nurses can't call him mister big head anymore! He is just adorable and graces us with adorable smiles that even make his 3 year old brother melt with love :)
Ashton is 3 1/2 and starting preschool! Woot woot I am nervous and a complete wreck but I'm pretty sure he will love it & if not he can just stay at home and play with me. eventually he will be begging to do the exact opposite so I will take all the time I can get. Time is precious :)
A few pictures of our growing baby at 2 months :)
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Invisible Mother
I read this once before it brought warm tears to my cheeks. I wanted to share it with all of my friends and soon to be mothers. The Love you feel for your child is beyond measure, my hearts strings feel as if I couldn't possibly love him more and then we wake to a new day and he does something so tiny but yet my heart swells and doubles in size. I couldn't possible imagine or understand this LOVE without my husband I wish I could express the Love that I feel for him but it is the kind that is impossible to give words too. I love you MY BOYS!
Invisible Mother......
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of
response, the
way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm
on the phone and ask
me a question.
Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on
the phone?'
Obviously, not.
No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or
sweeping the floor, or
even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can
see me at all.
I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a
pair of hands,
nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you
open this?
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a
human being. I'm a clock
to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite
guide to answer, 'What number
is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order,
'Right around 5:30, please.'
I was certain that these were the hands that once held
books and the eyes
that studied history and the mind that graduated sum a cum
laude - but now
they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be
seen again.
She's going; she's going; she is gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating
the return of a
friend from England ..
Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she
was going on and
on about the hotel she stayed in.
I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put
together so
well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself.
I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me
with a beautifully
wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.'
It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe .
I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me
until I read her
inscription:
'To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness of
what you are building
when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And
I would
discover what would become for me, four life-changing
truths, after which
I could pattern my work:
No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no
record of their names.
These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would
never see
finished.
They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
The passion of their building was fueled by their faith
that the eyes of
God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came
to visit the
cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman
carving a tiny
bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the
man, 'Why are
you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam
that will be
covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the
workman replied,
'Because God sees.' I closed the book, feeling the
missing piece fall into place.
It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I
see you, Charlotte. I
see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one
around you does.
No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've
sewn on, no cupcake
you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile
over. You are
building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now
what it will
become.'
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it
is not a
disease that is erasing my life.
It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness.
It is the
antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great
builder. As one
of the people who show up at a job that they will never see
finished, to
work on something that their name will never be on.
The writer of the book went so far as to say that no
cathedrals could ever
be built in our lifetime because there are so few people
willing to
sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to
tell the friend he's
bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom
gets up at 4 in the
morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a
turkey for
three hours and presses all the linens for the table.'
That would mean
I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want
him to want to
come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to
his friend, to
add, 'you're gonna love it there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be
seen if we're
doing it right.And one day, it is very possible that the
world will marvel, not only at
what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added
to the world by
the sacrifices of invisible women.
Great Job, MOM!
Share this with all the Invisible Moms you know...I just
did.
Hope this encourages you when the going gets tough as it
sometimes does.
We never know what our finished products will turn out to
be because of
our perseverance.
Invisible Mother......
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of
response, the
way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm
on the phone and ask
me a question.
Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on
the phone?'
Obviously, not.
No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or
sweeping the floor, or
even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can
see me at all.
I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a
pair of hands,
nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you
open this?
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a
human being. I'm a clock
to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite
guide to answer, 'What number
is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order,
'Right around 5:30, please.'
I was certain that these were the hands that once held
books and the eyes
that studied history and the mind that graduated sum a cum
laude - but now
they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be
seen again.
She's going; she's going; she is gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating
the return of a
friend from England ..
Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she
was going on and
on about the hotel she stayed in.
I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put
together so
well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself.
I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me
with a beautifully
wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.'
It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe .
I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me
until I read her
inscription:
'To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness of
what you are building
when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And
I would
discover what would become for me, four life-changing
truths, after which
I could pattern my work:
No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no
record of their names.
These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would
never see
finished.
They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
The passion of their building was fueled by their faith
that the eyes of
God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came
to visit the
cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman
carving a tiny
bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the
man, 'Why are
you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam
that will be
covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the
workman replied,
'Because God sees.' I closed the book, feeling the
missing piece fall into place.
It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I
see you, Charlotte. I
see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one
around you does.
No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've
sewn on, no cupcake
you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile
over. You are
building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now
what it will
become.'
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it
is not a
disease that is erasing my life.
It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness.
It is the
antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great
builder. As one
of the people who show up at a job that they will never see
finished, to
work on something that their name will never be on.
The writer of the book went so far as to say that no
cathedrals could ever
be built in our lifetime because there are so few people
willing to
sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to
tell the friend he's
bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom
gets up at 4 in the
morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a
turkey for
three hours and presses all the linens for the table.'
That would mean
I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want
him to want to
come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to
his friend, to
add, 'you're gonna love it there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be
seen if we're
doing it right.And one day, it is very possible that the
world will marvel, not only at
what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added
to the world by
the sacrifices of invisible women.
Great Job, MOM!
Share this with all the Invisible Moms you know...I just
did.
Hope this encourages you when the going gets tough as it
sometimes does.
We never know what our finished products will turn out to
be because of
our perseverance.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Yes its My birf-day!! Woo-hoo
Birthday Contest
It's My Birthday today! I am so happy. I haven't been this excited for a birthday in a long time. I'm just so happy!! So I'm holding a Birthday contest for the best birthday singing song on my voice mail. I will not play favorites and there are three other judges besides me but I do have to say so far Beth Bingham is holding the top spot! So don't be scared give a call and belt it out!
There will be a special gift basket given to the winner :)
It's My Birthday today! I am so happy. I haven't been this excited for a birthday in a long time. I'm just so happy!! So I'm holding a Birthday contest for the best birthday singing song on my voice mail. I will not play favorites and there are three other judges besides me but I do have to say so far Beth Bingham is holding the top spot! So don't be scared give a call and belt it out!
There will be a special gift basket given to the winner :)
Saturday, September 19, 2009
To my fav bloggers
It's my birthday in 59 minutes and I am asking that my two favorite bloggers memoirs of a sun goddess and kiel and Melissa christensen write a blog about me.
It better happen because what this birthday girl wants she gets!
-- Please excuse spelling errors since this blog is from my mobile phone!
My birthday
My birthday is tomorrow.
-- Please excuse spelling errors since this blog is from my mobile phone!
-- Please excuse spelling errors since this blog is from my mobile phone!
Hi mommy, I dirt.
Its no secret how I've been struggling with sleep since My love has been switched to graves. Last night was another tough one for me since it was his first night back to graves after his five days off and it was a double back oh yuck! It wasn't until about 3:30am that my eyes finally gave in to some much needed sleep.
I was so exhausted that the little sounds of Ashton stirring could not wake me out of this slumber or so I thought. I awake to Ashton grabbing my face saying "hi mommy. I dirt." so happy to open my eyes and see his adorable little blue eyed face. "goodmorning my little prince" he shoves his little hands right into my face that they are touching my lips "mommy I dirt" he exclaims. I lick my lips out of habitat then neccesity While at the same moment an awful smell filled my nostrils. one I couldn't quite put my finger on yet it was a familiar smell. Just awakening from a dead sleep I could feel my brain kick in to overdrive trying to name the smell. At the same time my blurred vision was adjusting and I could see brown. Yes, chunky? Brown! all my sences sparked together everything came clear as day. I flung my body up and back completly in horror of what I just realized.
I take a good look at my big boy. With his superman underwear around one ankle, toliet paper fastened to his leg by the chunky, smelly, brown stuff, His brown hand print smeared across his chest, his hands covered in pooh with the biggest smile across his face as he says for the third time "mommy, I dirt."
This cannot be happening. Realizing that I just licked my lips that had been touched by poooh hands I begin to dry heave i say "no Ashton it is not dirt. You are covered in poooh."
His little face fell and he looks at me with one hand reaching for mine and the other pointing towards the hall he says "oh no mommy mess!"
He was right! My little man woke up needing to take a morning dump. Being the litlle independent that he is he went to the bathroom took off his underwear and sat on the pot. The problems arose when it was time to wipe clean. Why today of all the days Did he need to take a morning dump?
So at 6:30 am I find myself knee deep in pooh scrubbing the bathroom. Scrubbing Ashton and scrubbing the little trail he left from the bathroom to my room. I remind myself that when I start to think that my life is a little dull and full of routine I will rememebr this delicious morning and never ever question myself again.
Hope all your mornings are awoken without the color brown!
My little culprit after the bath in his buzz lightyear outfit watching the morning toons!
-- Please excuse spelling errors since this blog is from my mobile phone!
I was so exhausted that the little sounds of Ashton stirring could not wake me out of this slumber or so I thought. I awake to Ashton grabbing my face saying "hi mommy. I dirt." so happy to open my eyes and see his adorable little blue eyed face. "goodmorning my little prince" he shoves his little hands right into my face that they are touching my lips "mommy I dirt" he exclaims. I lick my lips out of habitat then neccesity While at the same moment an awful smell filled my nostrils. one I couldn't quite put my finger on yet it was a familiar smell. Just awakening from a dead sleep I could feel my brain kick in to overdrive trying to name the smell. At the same time my blurred vision was adjusting and I could see brown. Yes, chunky? Brown! all my sences sparked together everything came clear as day. I flung my body up and back completly in horror of what I just realized.
I take a good look at my big boy. With his superman underwear around one ankle, toliet paper fastened to his leg by the chunky, smelly, brown stuff, His brown hand print smeared across his chest, his hands covered in pooh with the biggest smile across his face as he says for the third time "mommy, I dirt."
This cannot be happening. Realizing that I just licked my lips that had been touched by poooh hands I begin to dry heave i say "no Ashton it is not dirt. You are covered in poooh."
His little face fell and he looks at me with one hand reaching for mine and the other pointing towards the hall he says "oh no mommy mess!"
He was right! My little man woke up needing to take a morning dump. Being the litlle independent that he is he went to the bathroom took off his underwear and sat on the pot. The problems arose when it was time to wipe clean. Why today of all the days Did he need to take a morning dump?
So at 6:30 am I find myself knee deep in pooh scrubbing the bathroom. Scrubbing Ashton and scrubbing the little trail he left from the bathroom to my room. I remind myself that when I start to think that my life is a little dull and full of routine I will rememebr this delicious morning and never ever question myself again.
Hope all your mornings are awoken without the color brown!
My little culprit after the bath in his buzz lightyear outfit watching the morning toons!
-- Please excuse spelling errors since this blog is from my mobile phone!
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