She's Here!

The newest addition to our family tree arrived on Tuesday, April 10th at 10:26 a.m.  Weighing in at 7lbs. 14 oz., I'm thrilled to introduce our niece and Goddaughter, Brooklyn:

 First picture

 Murray loves his new cousin

 Grandpa Doug is head-over-heels

 Murray is a Brooklyn hog.  He doesn't like to let anyone else hold her.

She has a dimple on each cheek, just like her Mom

The second I met her, I fell in love.  I looked at my sister, who couldn't stop staring at her miracle with a look of wonder. 

Congratulations, sis.  We are extremely happy for you and love you both to pieces!




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Introducing Molly

This is Molly:

Molly is our first foster dog.  Already, we're in love with her. 

She arrived this afternoon, after being transported from the only home she's known for her nine years of existence.  Molly had three volunteers to transport her to our home, so she had a pretty big day.

Molly is an angel.  She has literally had a grin on her face since she arrived, and her tail wags constantly.  She's really matted, and very smelly, but that will be rectified on Monday at our groomer. She's extremely gentle, but again, she really needs a bath.  Pee yew! In the mean time, she's safe and getting LOTS of attention. 

In addition to the much anticipated arrival of Molly, we got to puppy-sit for Baylee.  She was one of the easiest puppies I've ever met.  We fell in love with her, too (so did Rudy).

It's been a busy day in dog land, but I'm guessing everyone will sleep well. 

Except for Craig and I.  We'll be up checking on Molly tonight, to make sure she's comfortable. 



A Letter to Santa

I have recently received several verbal comments that my blog is too sad to read.  I have no idea why this bothers me, but I can't seem to brush it off. I admit, Murray's Momma is often peppered with topics that are serious, sad, or sometimes even depressing. I don't like to hide from the tough stuff, and frankly, I'm just not that funny.

But guess what? I will continue to write what I feel, and I sincerely hope that you'll stick with me.  I'm not ALWAYS that depressing, am I? 

Don't answer that. 

In an effort to lighten things up, the following is the letter to Santa that Murray composed last night.  He dictated, I wrote.  I did edit it just a tish, because he tends to ramble, and I didn't have the energy to hand write a novel.

Dear Santa,

I have been good but Owen has been bad so he goes on the bad list. You should call his mom and Linsay and tell them that Owen didn't help clean up so he is bad. I have been VERY good so can I have some cars, train tracks and a helicopter?


My mom would like a rockstot (a 12 qt. stock pot), a processer for food (food processor) and she wants new jammies.  So could you bring those for her?

Oh, and can you bring Legos so I can build whatever I want? I will leave you milk and cookies and some carrots for the deer, but I don't how you will feed them.
Love,
Murray (picture a 4-year old version of the letter "M")

Note:  Notice that DH wasn't included in the letter?  I'm assuming Santa won't be delivering presents with Craig's name on them. 

Merry Christmas!

Four Years Old

Note:  I purposely did not show the faces of Murray's party guests, so as not to exploit children who aren't my own.  :)

Also, following is the addendum to this post.  I apologize for the delay.

When you were three, you loved to snuggle up with me and whisper secrets in my ear.

Not that you're four, you think it's great fun to give wet willies instead of whispering how much you love me.

When you were three, you loved to take a bath.
Now that you're four, you think baths are for babies and you prefer showers.


When you were three, Curious George made you laugh.
Now that you're four, you think tooting and smelly feet are hysterical. When you pass gass, you say, "Excuse me, a duck flew by." At least you say excuse me.

When you were three, we could answer your questions (kind of).
Now that you're four, you have us scratching our heads, searching for an answer that will suit you.

When you were three, you learned to count.
Now that you're four, you can do simple math. Yesterday you did 4-2=2 all by yourself. You are just like your Dad; you certainly didn't get the mathematical/analytical gene from me.

When you were three, you slept in your own room.
Not that you're four, you insist on sleeping on the floor in our room. You are so not sleeping in our bed. Unless you're sick.

When you were three, you weren't quite as independent.
Now that you're four, you play on your own more than you play with your Dad and me.

When you were three, your manners were impeccable.
Now that you're four, your're bossy and need to be reminded of good manners.
But, now that you're four, your Dad and I still think you are awesome. We love you, and always will.

But since your're four now, could you please remember to flush the toilet?

Happy 4th Birthday, Murray!

 Pony rides - introducing Izzy and Sari (Izzy is the pony)

 Cake

 Battery Operated cars

Photo credit:  Troy (a.k.a. J.P. #2)

Special thanks to our friends and family who spent the afternoon with us.  Also, thanks to Dakota Carriage Company for bringing sweet Izzy to our home.  

2 Kool 4 Skool

Note:  I've edited this about thirty times, so please, keep in mind that if you find any grammatical or spelling mistakes, well, it is what it is -nothing new.  I should put this disclaimer on every post.  :)

You're probably tired of reading about my back-to-school ventures, but since today was the first day of class, I couldn't resist just one more post on the subject (at least for a while).

I have been so excited for this new chapter in my life. 

Until yesterday.

I was quietly reading the Sunday paper, when out of the blue, cold fear washed over me.  I ended up in a doozie of a panic, moaning,  "What am I thinking?"  Since my Mom isn't around for me to whine at, I did the next best thing; I called my Grandma. 

As soon as I heard her voice, I promptly burst into tears.  I gave her my best "oh-poor me-I'll never get this-how will I manage-my family will suffer-I will be the biggest, oldest dork in class-and I'll fail miserably" speech.  She gently but firmly reminded me that I'm already a step ahead of the college game and pointed out the advantages that I have over so many others.  "One day at a time", she advised.  "When you've kayaked too far and think you can't make it back home, just remember, one paddle at a time.  You'll get there." "Savor each day and when you have bad days (and you will), focus on the end result and what you want out of this".  Such sound advice - I wish I could bottle it. 

After my talk with Grandma, I felt much better.  But then, those ominous hours of dark rolled around, and I found myself sleepless; so much so that I was awake most of the night imagining worst-case scenarios while I attempted to persuade my brain to take a break and rest.

I wrestled with sleep all night.  Craig didn't have to wake me up this morning because I was already on the couch, scaring myself silly.  When he came out of the bedroom, bleary-eyed, at 6:30 a.m. and said, "It's time to get ready for school.", I wanted to reply, " No s***, Sherlock,  I've been been up all night scared out of my mind." But that wouldn't have been nice, so I bit my tongue and wearily headed for the shower.

By the time we were ready to leave the house, I thought I was going to throw up. I was shaking and my legs felt like rubber.  I was early for my 8:30 a.m. class, so I sat in Craig's office trembling, attempting to drink coffee without spilling it.  I reminded myself how ridiculous it was to be so scared, but sometimes anxiety isn't a reasonable force to reckon with.  Craig must have noticed the fear on my face, because he offered to walk me to class (I know, how sweet is that?).  On the way over, he reassured me that I would be just fine and that he would help me in as many ways that he could.  The guy has big shoulders (I have an amazing support system).  Good thing he has a degree in math and is brilliant (although, him tutoring me has the potential to cause serious marriage trouble).  As I write this, he's reading my math book with more enthusiasm than a raccoon raiding a cooler.   

I arrived at my first class and waited in the hallway because there were already students in the classroom. A lady at the front of the room was talking to students that were seated, so I assumed that the class prior to mine wasn't finished.  I soon discovered that she, too, was an O.T.A. (older than average) and just as scared as I.  I think I'll make her my new best friend.

The rest of the day went fairly smoothly, despite that I had a math (sigh) quiz on the first day.  It should have gone something like this:
a:  Marie is not the oldest person in her math class.
b:  Marie is definitely the oldest person in her other three classes.
c:  Who cares?
d:  Marie needs to buy stock in erasers.
d:  None of the above.
e:  All of the above.

Answer:  E
Write this down - there will be a test. 
-MM
P.S.  Murray has been saying things like, "when I get 31, can I come to your college?"  And, "Mom, I'm off to school to do my homework!" (while running around with my backpack)  I hope this is an encouraging sign for the future.

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let Down Your Hair

"I took your mom to her first movie.
I want to take you, too.
That will be a special day
devoted just to you.
When I took your mommy,
I never watched the screen.
The movie was in her smile-
to her it was a dream."   - Billy Crystal - I Already Know I Love You

If you haven't read this heartwarming book, I highly recommend you do so and do it soon.  My dad sent it to me as a gift in 2005, before Murray was a twinkle in our eye.  Since then, it's become one of Murray's (and my) favorite books, and has teeth marks, well-thumbed, and torn pages to prove it. 

I took Murray to his first movie this afternoon ("Tangled").  Billy Crystal hit the nail on the head.  He was amazing to watch.  "This is a REAL BIG TV, MAMA!"  At one point, he began singing very loudly on cue with Mandy Moore - giggles throughout the theatre - and when I asked him to whisper he said, "but Mom, I WANT to sing with her."   And of course, we splurged on the theatre must-haves:  Popcorn with extra butter, (I don't share, so I bought Murray his own) M&M's and lots of water.

I can honestly say that I didn't take in much of the show, although Max the horse was probably my favorite character from what I did see.  I'm so thankful to have been able to share another "first" with my little guy.

Next up:  Cars 2.  According to Murray, that is.

Murray's Big Dip

When I heard how hot the weekend was going to be, my first thought was "lake". Despite the fact that Craig had a departmental party to attend, there was no way I was going to sit around in the heat. So on Saturday morning, Maggie, myself and Murray hopped in the car and hit the road. Forty-five minutes later, we were reveling in the beauty that is the lake. With the dogs, Murray and I all away, Craig was happy to enjoy 24 hours of solitude.

It turned out to be one of those "golden days" (as my mom would say). The August-warmed water looked like a sheet of glass, the sunnies were loving their "free" corn dinner from Murray's hook, and I enjoyed a good book and a long nap in the sun.

After nap, Murray wanted to take a boat ride. Grandpa and Grandma were on the pontoon with friends and it's been years since I've driven the fishing boat, so we opted for the paddle boat. The two of us had a great ride; Rudy followed us on shore while Maggie relaxed in the waning sun in a lounge chair. When we returned, I unloaded Murray and began to crank the lift up. I turned around, ran into Murray and the next thing I knew, he was in the lake. Maggie almost had a stroke. No worries here - the kid loves the water - he was wearing his life jacket. I calmly leaned over, pulled him up and after he caught his breath, he giggled. I made light of the situation so as not to scare him for future swimming and lake activities. It worked; he wanted go swimming about 10 minutes later. Poor Maggie; she was scared out of her mind. Hence the reason Murray is not allowed on the dock without his life jacket, which has been our rule since day one. He's been having a blast telling his story of how he "fell in the lake deep!". After all, he is a lake kid.

"Two Year Olds Are People Too"

Murray woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Everything caused a meltdown. Silly things, like the fact that he wanted to watch Pooh Bear and Curious George at the same time. Or not wanting to wear pants to daycare. Or the fact that he wanted to wear his "Hockey Gopher" (insert huge wail) for the third day in a row (which reminds me, we need to buy stock in "Hockey Gopher" shirts because that's all he wants to wear). Craig and I were baffled. Our normally chipper morning guy was suddenly acting like someone took his birthday away. I was discussing possible reasons for this behavior with a co-worker, Bouge. He looked at me and simply replied, "Two-year-olds are people too. Just because they're small doesn't mean they can't have bad days". This, from a man who never seems to stop working, never complains, and cradles a newborn with the comfort and ease of a veteran OB nurse (he's a very sweet man, but he probably wouldn't admit it). How true! Why didn't I think of that? Every now and then I have a morning when I want to cry if anyone looks at me wrong or if the coffee isn't brewed on time, or my routine gets a little bit out of whack or for simply no reason at all. Why shouldn't Murray be entitled to those feelings too? Sometimes I think I get so caught up in trying to raise a polite, well-behaved, caring child that I forget that he too, is human.

Speaking of being two-years-old, Murray caught on to trike-riding. We've been practicing all spring, but Sunday was the day when everything clicked. It's hilarious to watch, especially if he gets on an incline. In that case, he needs a good push and he's off again. Another "first" to put on the books.

Easter 2010

Christ is risen! How cool is that? God bless us all!

Murray and I took a trip to the emergency room this evening. I attempted to take him to the walk-in clinic, but they were closed, so to the e.r. we went. Three hours, two breathing treatments and a dose of steroids and we are finally at home. I know that croup is not as scary as a person might think, but to me it's horrific. I remained calm on the outside, but inside, my heart was breaking. He was terrified - I had to use physical force to hold him down during the breathing treatments - absolutely nothing would soothe him. The telemetry didn't help; the wires made his anxiety sky-rocket. Murray's tearful and downright demanding requests were as follows: "All done?" "Go home?" and "Croy's (Troy's) House?" (sorry, Stef) over, and over, and over. Finally, I promised him we would call Troy when we got home (which we did) and by the time the doctor checked in on us at 8:00, we were equipped with enough stickers to last us for several years. Murray wanted to go home so badly. I explained over and over that we would go home and be "all done" when the doctor said it was ok. After I repeated this for several hours, he suddenly stopped crying, put on his best "get me the heck out of here" look and shouted, "DOCTOR, DOCTOR!" To his credit, it worked. The doctor immediately responded and laughed, saying that he had never been summoned by a two-year-old, and that it was a good sign that he was good to go. Honestly, the child never ceases to amaze me. Now we are watching Curious George and getting ready for bed (better late than never) and I'm praying that we won't have to go in again for another treatment (I was warned that this is a possiblity).

Aside from the drama tonight, we had the best Easter. I was disappointed when my dad couldn't make it on Friday due to the huge storm west of Bismarck, but he surprised us all by showing up late Saturday afternoon. The power lines where he lives were down (still are and will be for the better part of a week) so he couldn't even get fuel until the generator arrived at the local gas station. Anyway, his visit was way too short, but wonderful. Today was so wonderful; we spent time with more family and I can now retire on Murray's earnings from his Easer egg hunt (pictures to follow soon). I swear he made more money today than I do in a week.

I'm off to bed, although not necessarily to sleep. Murray will take Craig's spot in the bed, and even though we have a king-size, I know that I will wake up with bruised ribs. Nala will join us until she gets too hot and I make her get off the bed, Rudy will go back and forth (alternatly doing security duty and comfort Marie duty) and the cat will sleep wherever he darn well pleases, making it impossible to get away from the two-year-old iron feet. But you know what? I wouldn't have it any other way. Life is good.

Hope you had a blessed Easter.

On Mama's Mind

Two year old + Extreme Independence = Exhausted Mama. In the last two days, Murray has:

1. Peed on the floor in the bathroom right next to the toilet (we're calling this a step in the right direction).

2. Repeatedly used his latest phrase, "I'll do it" whenever we try to help him.

3. Woke up at 3:30am this morning and refused to go back to sleep.

4. Is transferring to a "big boy bed" (which he proudly announces to anyone who will listen) today.

5. Ran outside and yelled, "HI CECIL!" at our neighbor (Cecil and I were completely taken aback, we had no idea that Murray knew his name) and followed him around while he did outside work.

6. Has moments when he'll come running up to me just because he needs a quick snuggle (my favorite).


7. Called two people on my cell phone this morning; he shouted at Grandpa Doug and left a voicemail for Maggie.

I can't help feeling a little sad about taking down his crib. The crib that my Dad and I put together one day before Murray was born, the crib that kept him safe while he slept, the crib that was his first bed after his bassinet, and the crib that has been jumped in so many times I wonder how the springs are still intact. It's silly to get sentimental about such things, but I can't help myself. Sheesh, what the heck am I going to do when he goes to kindergarten?

Anyway, instead of being sad that he's growing up, I've decided to be thankful that he's growing up. He tends to have us in hysterics most of the time - when he's not having a tantrum - and is a tender child who loves hugs and kisses. Sometimes I look at him and can't believe God graced us with this beautiful little human.

That's my sappy post for the day. Tomorrow I hope to have good news about Murray's first night in his new bed (and pictures too)!

"I Fall Down Couch"

To the contest winners: Your prizes have been mailed and you should receive them tomorrow. I apologize for the wait - it's been a bit crazy around here.

I had a bit of a medical scare over the weekend, and am pleased to report that it turned out to be an infection and not something more serious. I can't tell you how relieved I am and have said many thank you prayers. Now it's just a matter of the antibiotics to kick in and I should be back to my old self.

Murray update: We are constantly amazed at how much he's learning. Everyday it's something new. Lately, we are thrilled that he is using two and three-word phrases. Yesterday, for example:
Me: "Please sit on your bottom, or you will fall off the couch."
Murray: "NOOOOO!"
Three seconds later, Murray responds: "I fall down couch". Hysterical laughter and giggling follows.

I just love this new form of communication. Now, if we could just break him of the whining habit. . .

I have a phone interview this morning, for a position that I'm extremely excited about. I won't say more until I know more myself, but some prayers would be appreciated.

Brace yourself for the snow, soon we'll be shoveling. . .again. At least it's good exercise!

The Reason For the Season

We celebrated another "first" on Saturday. Murray received hockey skates for his birthday. The weather was beautiful and the pond behind the Beckerleg's had a shimmery, clean sheet of ice. Craig and I were prepared for the fact that Murray would be scared, even to put on the skates, but as soon as we began to lace them up he was thrilled. He kept repeating, "skate, hockey, ice skate, hockey" and when we finally put him on the ice he was in his own version of heaven. Of course he's in need of a lot of help (one person on each side) but even when he took his first fall he just giggled and got right back on the horse, so to speak. When we explained that it was time for a break and took him in the house, he cried, so Craig trudged back out and let him practice. We are thrilled that he enjoyed it so much. I suppose it's time to start saving our pennies - I wonder if Moorhead Youth Hockey has a lay-away plan? I did take a ton of video, but I can't seem to get it to download. I'll keep trying.

As we prepare for the wrap-up of advent and the celebration of Christ's birth, I've noticed a pretty awesome change in myself these days. This year I've spent more time reflecting upon our blessings, asking questions and learning more about our faith, and pondering the wondrous gifts we received when Christ died on the cross for us. Tonight will be the first time I attend reconciliation in 5 years. I'm apprehensive, but I love the feeling of being cleansed and am so grateful that Jesus died so that we can be forgiven of sin. I pray that my faith journey will flourish in the days and weeks to come. I have to thank my friend Roxane for this gift of new-found faith; through her and her wisdom I've embraced Christ in ways I hadn't dreamed possible; of course I know that God gave us the gift of our friendship and for that, I am honored.

May you have a blessed Christmas filled with peace and joy!