Singing Seeds

Baby Beaux

We interrupt the regularly scheduled silence on this blog to introduce you to the newest member of the Besich family: Baby Beaux (also referred to as Baby X, Baby Box, and Baby Beau-X by people who think they are HILARIOUS).

She is presh, and Roko is crushing it as Big Bro.  No really, he literally crushes her any time I turn my back on the two of them.  It's not stressful at all.  

Below is a list of FAQs because I'm all about efficiency these days:

Q: How was labor and delivery?

A: On a scale of 1-WTF?! I'd say it was about an 8, then my epidural kicked in and it was smoooooth sailing.  #modernmedicinerules

Q: How is life with two kids?
A: Take a whiff when I walk by, and that should answer your question.  Shower?  Who needs 'em when I have a Costco-sized box of wipees at my disposal helping me relive my girls camp days.  I kid.  Charles Dickens said it best: "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."  Life is all about adapting to change, so adapt we will!

 

Q: Is it fun having a daughter?

A: It's horrible!  Again, I kid.  While I've not noticed much difference between boy babies and girl babies, my empty wallet indicates it's more fun to dress a baby girl. 

 Beaux, most people call this a donut.  I call it emotional support.

Q: How does Roko like his sister?

A: His first words on their first meeting were, and I quote, "Eeeeeewwwww, Yucky!"  We're still learning to use that phrase in the proper context (like when offered mushrooms, asked to clean toilets, or passing girls wearing high-waisted shorts), but he currently uses it to express his excitement (at least that's what I tell myself).  Roko was made to be a brother, and if he could fold Baby Sister up and put her in his pocket to carry wherever he went, he would.  He is currently the only one who can make her laugh, which earns him the Favorite Big Brother title.

Q: When are you going to have another one?

A: Another shower?  Hopefully tomorrow (the answer is always tomorrow).  Another night of uninterrupted sleep?  Hopefully tomorrow (the answer is always hopefully).  Another diaper blowout?  Probably tomorrow.  Wait, you're talking about another baby? He.  Hehehe.  HeheheheHAHAHAHAHA.  BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA! 

We don't know, silly!

Yummy.

And then my baby turned one

And I was all “wasn’tityesterdayIhadtositonablowupdonutbecauseIjustgavebirth?”  It’s happening.  My little baby is no longer a little baby.  I understand I haven’t been very present here on the ‘ole blog since Rokito’s birth, which contradicts the typical flourish a blog experiences once the new baby joins a family, but I guess you can say I march to the beat of my own drum.  I’m terrible at multi-tasking.  Juggling teaching, grad school, mother and wife hood has been a learning experience.  I took a little longer than expected to feel “normal again,” but I think becoming a mom forever altered my definition of normal.

My new normal is a 7:00 am alarm clock full of giggles and smiles.  My new normal is Cheerios at church.  My new normal is going to bed fully expecting a late-night rendezvous.  My new normal is planning errands around nap time, bubbly bath times, outlet covers, and family walks.  My new normal is mommy.Cheers to our new normal, and may we have the blessing of many more!

Happy Birthday Roko!

Six Years Later

Six years later I still remember the nervous sweats I had as my airplane landed on the tarmac at Sky Harbor airport.  I hadn't seen my family in eighteen months.   Okay, if I'm going to be honest I'm sure I saw some member of my family a few months prior on the Square, but this was the first time I'd been home in a year and a half.  I called Tempe Square my home for those eighteen months, and I learned more life lessons during that short time than in my previous 21 years of living.  Six years ago I stepped off an airplane a new woman, unsure of how this new woman would adapt to this strange place I used to call home.

Since that February morning in 2007 that new woman graduated from college, married her soul mate, and birthed a beautiful baby boy.  I love being that new woman, and I owe much of my identity to those lesson I learned in eighteen months.

I learned that sometimes there is a greater power gently prodding us towards experiences that will make us better.  I call this greater power God.

I learned that it's possible to be homesick for heaven.  Even if I don't remember what it was like, there were moments when I felt a distinct ache to be there again.

I learned that it's okay to be scared.  When I was scared I made it a point to say a prayer, and afterwards I felt a little braver.

I experienced a heavy heartache previously uncharted by my little ticker.  I imagine it's the type of heartache God feels when his children hurt, or hurt others. 

I learned that what I want to happen isn't always what God wants to happen. 

I learned how to talk to strangers about ANYTHING.

I learned that miracles happen every. single. day.

I learned how to love people even when it's hard to love them.

I learned that I can do hard things.

I deepened my testimony of Jesus Christ.  He lives.

I learned to see people as my brothers and sisters.  Looking at them through this lens instantly changes your perspective.

I learned that it is always better to obey the commandments.

I learned how to tune out the world.

I learned how to grocery shop for myself.

I learned the consequence of not following the spirit.

I caught a glimpse of how wonderful eternity will be.

I learned how to strengthen my testimony.

I learned that deciding to serve a mission was one of the smartest things I've done.

I Am the Cheese

Last Thursday began the battle of wills.  Who is going to throw out the cheese?  I will NOT give in.  I hate that cheese because it has been sitting in our refrigerator since labor day, and we haven't used it since.  Why, oh why must we always buy such an exorbitant amount of cheese when I'm the one who gets the pleasure of tossing it out?  Not this time.  I will not subject my gag reflexes to that experience.  

Sadly I started documenting Battle 2012 on day five.

And here is The Cheese on day six:

 

Yep...still there, and still moldy.

Game on.

 

M.O.M

When I was younger, I used to secretly envy mothers with babies.  I wanted to be the person those babies wanted more than anything.  I wanted to be the home base they always raced to.  I wanted to be the face that lit up their eyes from across the room.

It feels so good to finally be that mom.

I love handing my Roko off to helping hands only to look back and watch him follow my every move. I love how easily I can make him laugh.  I love having that magical mom super power to make everything better, and I love being his home base.

Love this baby.

"Do"cision 2012

Every woman reaches a point in her life when she has to make an important decision:

To cut or not to cut?

That is the question.

I scheduled a hair appointment for Wednesday, and haven't yet decided on my new do.  Do I stick with a trim?  Do I make a bold change?  Do I settle for something middle of the road?  I have two days to make my "do"cision, and I would appreciate some input.  

In order from Safe Sally to Daring Debbie, I present you my options:

Option A- Not too different from what I have going on now

Option B- Not too long; not too short

Option C- A drastic length change.  Am I ready to make this commitment?

And just for fun...Option Z- Be honest...can I pull this off?  Donning white hair before my golden years is my dream, but in reality will it be more like a nightmare?

I really want your thoughts.  Go!