We got some snow the other day and had the BEST time playing in it. You can see some of the pictures if you follow me on Instagram @marthametzler.
But before I post those pictures, I had to post some of the snow shots from the last 3 years to see how Bud has grown!
My Bennett Rippy,
When you were 4 months old you weighed 14 pounds, 4 ounces. You were 25.5 inches long and had a “head that’s bigger for his age”. I say “were” 4 months old because you are almost 5.5 months old as I’m typing this post. Great.
Your daddy had to go on a training for over a month and just got back this weekend so I’ve been a bit busy making sure you didn’t starve to death or stay up all night despite your best efforts.
You are such a sweet baby, seriously my boy. You smile all the time. You eat well. You still beam at your big brother and your 4 legged brother. You gave me a few good nights of sleep this month. All in all, I think we’ll keep you around.
I love you sweet child, I’ll try and get the 5 month old post up on time….
Love, your Mama
Oh sweet boy,
I can’t believe you are two and a half years old. But honestly, I kinda can. I know when I’m older and y’all are out of the house, I’ll say, “Man, that flew by.” but that day ain’t today. I have loved every single day with you in these two and a half years but it doesn’t mean that they have flown by. I still look at you in awe at how big you’ve become and how well you are talking and communicating like a little person. You are definitely no longer a baby, you are a mostly functioning (potty training dude…. lets do this thing) independent child. I love it. I’m glad it’s not flying by.
You are my playmate and my conscience. You have taken on the role of big brother like a champ. We still have a lot of special Mama and Bud time which I think has helped the transition. We sneak out every morning during Bennett Rippy’s nap and explore until our hands are cold, our stomachs are growling, and our hearts are full.
You say the funniest things that I keep trying to write down but honestly, I can’t keep up! You’re doing so well in preschool and have boundless energy.
You are a lover of “selfies”, wrestler of many, and have the greatest love for music.
You are extremely opinionated and stubborn…. I’ll give your dad credit for this one. I know it’ll serve you well as you get older and undoubtedly, will be a force to be reckoned with.
You love your family and I forget about all the tantrums when you sweetly call out, “Mama? I luz you soooo much.” Oh ok sweet boy, I’ll forget that you sucker punched me in the jaw because good Lord that was adorable.
I think you are around 30 pounds and 3 feet 2 inches tall. You still have striking blue eyes, beautiful blonde hair with the slightest of curl, and the greatest laugh that’ll set the darkness on fire.
You are outgrowing your tick of twirling your hair when you get nervous or tired. And the giant bald spot on top where you really went to town is finally growing back in. You still flap your hands wildly any time you get excited. This has been something you have done since you were an infant.
I find myself just staring at your trying to memorize your profile.
I hope we always play together my son and most of all, I hope you get to love like the way we love you. Wild, unconditional, and without limits.
Bud: making ambulance noises with his truck
Gammy: starts making them too
Bud: “No Gammy! Don’t do dat! Calm down! Bennett Rippy is sleeping!”
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
a big, fat baby. And for some reason, I keep expecting him to sleep through the night consistently, be more predictable, and order me new jeans online. But sadly, he’s just a baby.
I sat in the nursery last night from 2:30am until 4:15am trying to get him back to sleep and help him breathe through his nose because while his brother may not share his toys, he certainly shares his colds. When I finally got him to sleep at 4:15, I walked out of the nursery with a swagger thinking, “Now, he’ll just cruise on until 7”.
That’s adorable.
Cue 5:30am when he wakes screaming because the snot monsters have invaded his nose and his usual ammo of his paci is rendered useless against them.
Obviously my first thoughts were , “Dammit! It’s 5:30! Breath through your mouth like a normal mouth breather!” I mean, “Poor child, let me help you.”
So I tried but apparently 5:30 was the acceptable wake up time for this morning. As I shuffled around feeling defeated and ashamed at my nurturing attempts, my sweet mama came in and told me to go back to bed and she was wide awake and would handle him for a few hours.
So I did. And as I laid in bed I heard her laughing downstairs with him and playing as if it wasn’t 5:30 in the morning. Because she knew he was a baby.
The hardest part I think for me is that there isn’t a formula or a fix-all. He’s not like Bud, so a lot of things that worked for Bud don’t work for him. And he’s not predictable because he’s still trying to figure this life out (I don’t have the heart to tell him that I’ll be trying to figure it out until I die and they throw me my Willy Wonka themed funeral). And I forgot how crazy the first year can be because as soon as you think you’ve hit a good stride, a kink gets thrown into the chain. Whether it be sickness, teething, or growth spurts, he’s a big baby. A big, adorable baby who likes to keep me on my knees toes.
I don’t know if I can handle resolutions this year. Most days I feel like my resolution is to survive and still manage to be a good Mama and wife. But I do have some goals that are important to me.
1. Don’t get pregnant. Seriously.
2. I know I need to stop thinking that moving back home will solve everything. Because guess what? Nothing on this side of heaven will be a fix-all. Not a bigger house, being near family, SUNSHINE, or old friends. I need to learn to love the season I’m in, even if it’s messy and hard. It’s still a season that I can’t fast-forward through so I might as well look up long enough to see the Glory of God in the hard moments.
3. Rejoice that my body brought 2 boys into this world and stop looking at it with the same disdain that I look at dried Playdoh stuck in the carpet. With that being said, I should make exercising a resolution right? Blah blah.
4. Get to know my neighbors better. We live in a military community so everyone is so transient that as soon as I get close with a neighbor, they move. (Thanks a lot Deana) But it doesn’t make them any less valuable to know. Bud and I have a new favorite thing to do during BR’s morning nap. We take some baked goods to an older couple up the road and Bud plays with their puppy. And we frolic in the front grassy area so it’s prime location for chatting it up with new neighbors.
5. Print more pictures. I have ZERO printed pictures of Bennett Rippy in our house. I promise I rejoice he’s a part of this family but you wouldn’t be able to tell by my walls. I ordered some of my friend Mara’s pictures she took of our family from Mpix.com and will hang them pronto. I’m also working on some Instagram books from Artifact Uprising. Any other creative ways I can work photos into our house? We play our photosteam on our AppleTV through the day which I love.
6. Stop checking Instagram when I’m playing with my kids. It can wait. I repeat, it can wait.
7. Accept the messy. The messy house. The messy tantrums. The messy life. There’s got to be beauty found in the messy, I just need to open my eyes to it.
8. This one is big. And only a few folks know about it. I’ve written a book. Well, a children’s book series. It’s a 9 part series and I’m SO FRIGGIN’ PUMPED about it. I’m going to publish it this year. I might be blowing y’all up for a Kickstarter campaign or trying to get the word out, but hear me blogging world, I will publish it. I believe in it so much and think it can be so valuable for families. I’ve got it ready to go and been sending it out to literary agents. My friend Smitty is illustrating because he’s awesome and I think we’ll like working together. I repeat- I will be publishing my children’s book series this year. Anyone got any agency or publishing contacts? Wink!
Happy 2014 bitches!! ***** Mic drop.
(I have no idea why I needed to do that but I did)
I’m terrible at asking for help. Terrible. Sam looks at me with such frustration as I am holding a baby, stirring something on the stove, and answering Bud’s really important questions about “whaa happen to dinosawrs Mama??”. And within t-minus 5 minutes fast forward to me spilling something and stomping my foot and yelling out some lame version of a curse word now that Bud is repeating everything – “GODBLESSIT” “SON OF BEESHWOOD” “SHIZZER”… to name a few. Sam stares at me and through “I told you so” eyes, says: “I’m here to help you, you should let me.”
I’m not sure when this happened. Maybe it was when he deployed for 10.5 months and I got used to doing things on my own? Or maybe it’s been my downfall for much longer. But regardless, it’s been my MO for quite some time.
I thought ‘help’ was a four letter word. But here I am, fresh from putting my 4 month old down for his morning nap without a meltdown from being up too long because he had to come along on a joy ride to drop big brother off at preschool. He got his own “wind down” time because my amazing, selfless neighbor/friend Mel offered to take Bud to school with her kids on Tuesdays and Thursdays.
At first I shuddered at this suggestion and then I think it was clear to everyone in the drop off as I looked like Medusa trying to sheepdog Bud into the classroom while doing ridiculous dance moves and shaking various toys in my baby’s face trying to get him to stay awake so he doesn’t fall asleep in the carseat so he can get some actual good rest in his crib (hilarious) that I needed a break. Mel sent me a text a couple of Tuesday mornings ago and all it said was, “I’m picking Bud up at 8:50, don’t argue.”
Ok.
I texted Sam and told him that Mel was helping and I felt humiliated. Why in the world did I feel humiliated?! Maybe it’s because I felt the need to save face or pretend I’m supermom, or deep down I think that needing help is a sign of weakness.
I sent an email to my mother in law who is selflessly coming to visit next week to lend an extra set of hands warning her about the state of my house and I told her that the messiness of my heart is reflected in the messiness of my carpets. I found myself apologizing to her that my life wasn’t perfect. Shameful.
Well, you know what my new resolution is?
Be weak.
2014 will be the year of rejoicing in my weaknesses because that’s when my Rescuer shows up with the biggest floatation devices that would put water parks out of business.
Rejoicing in my weaknesses quiets the Pride ever so gently enough so that I’m given permission to huddle under the wing of my Lord and whisper through soft cries, “My Shield. My Refuge. My Hiding Place.”
It’s no longer about faking strength. It’s about living in the reality that He knows the amount of strength I need to get through the day and when I accept help and admit weakness, I’m pointing to Him. I’m pointing to the fact that He is my help yesterday, today, and tomorrow.
Help is no longer a four letter word but is a word of beauty. It allows people to come into our lives and be the help. It shows that I am not a one-woman show. I need my God, my community, and HELP. I hope I can pay Mel back in some way, especially since she juggles twice as much as the average mom. But until then, I’m grateful for her grace for me as a friend. I’m grateful for her help and the lesson it’s taught me that accepting help doesn’t mean I’ve failed, it means that I’m not an unrealistic, grotesque version of perfect. It shows that on this side of Heaven, I still need a Rescuer – don’t we all?
I won’t lie. The big picture of life right now can seem overwhelming. So, I’ve decided to dwell on the sweet little moments that God allows me to have. It allows me to live more in the moment and less in the anxiety. Here are a few so far in 2014…
Each night we’ve been having “dance pawtees” in the kitchen while I fix supper. It’s so fun and it reminds me to let loose a bit and enjoy my boys instead of worrying about what the night will entail.
We set off a lantern New Year’s Eve with our friends and as I stood there making a wish (please let Bennett Rippy start napping better), I was captivated by how amazed Bud was. He just wanted to chase it around and as it got too far he kept saying, “But I want to hold it!”….. It made me change my wish. I wish that he will always to want to hold that kind of light in his hands and chase it with his whole heart.
Even though the cries are hard, the smiles are brilliant.
And even though its cold and gray and rainy, me AND my kids need to be outside. So every time we bundle and come in with rosy cheeks and runny noses, I know it’s worth it that we got to play in the dirt.
Happy 2014, I hope that your year consists of joy-filled little moments and gratitude in the storm.
It came and it went and it was beautiful. There is something really magical about Christmas when your kid is old enough to get excited about Santa. And yes, we plan on lying to him to keep that magic alive as long as we can. Judge me but I’ll be the one squealing with joy as we shake a bell outside of his door so he thinks its Santa’s sleigh.
We decorated our gingerbread house. We made and decorated Christmas cookies for our friends, mail lady, garbage collectors, and firemen. We decorated the tree. They wore Christmas PJs. We listened to Christmas music. I cooked a huge Christmas Eve supper even though it was just the 4 of us. Every Christmas Eve we make a pallet on the floor and watch Polar Express. I slow cooked a ham Christmas morning while we opened presents and saw the delight in Bud’s eyes with each box. And then, we revealed the letter from Santa saying Bud’s big present was in the garage waiting for him. And his head exploded because all he had been asking for from Santa was a “big car”. Y’all it was incredible.
We of course talked a lot about Jesus’ birthday and in the midst of the craziness I tried to remember the greatest Rescue Plan that saved a wretch like me. I hope y’all had an awesome Christmas and aren’t making too many crazy New Year’s resolutions.
Dear Bennett Rippy,
Well well well, we are a week shy of you turning 4 months and I’m just now posting your 3 month update. But from what I can tell, you aren’t going to hold it against me. Plus, you can’t read sooooo…. I’m good. These 3 months have either flown by or moved like molasses depending on the day.
You still aren’t a great sleeper but we’re working on it my friend.
You got your first cold/cough thanks to big brother. It was heartbreaking but you got through it.
You are still a decent eater but have a pretty sensitive tummy so Mama still can’t eat dairy which is killer.
We have a bunch of names for you: Bennett Rippy, Bennett, Rip, BR, QB2, or Baby Brother. Your brother has coined the double name so you are always “Ben-Rippy” to him.
Things you love: smiling, your brother, music, Roy the dog (except when his tail hits you), playing on your mat, when Mama and brother have dance parties, rattles, and your paci.
Things you hate: long naps, sleeping through the night, when a bunch of people come up to you all at once, when Mama leaves the room, and evening time.
You learned how to roll over from your front to back, and you’ve really discovered your voice. It’s hilarious to hear you just “talk”/coo all day. You also gave me your first real giggle this month…. I swear, that laugh could solve the world’s problems.
You continue to be awesome little man and I’m excited to see you grow. And oh yeah… please start sleeping soon.
Love, Mama
