Cooper Todd

So it's been almost two years since I've written a post. Today is my Coopy bears birthday and I don't think I've ever shared his birth story before. So here I go...

One year ago.
It was around 2:30am on December 10th 2015. My due date had came and went and I was not happy about it. I told myself I would not get my hopes up of having another 'early baby' because I had read all the stories and heard all the wisdom that all birth stories are different and just because your first was early didn't mean the second would follow suit. Alas. There I was, disappointed because the Lord and my Coop were not on MY time. I was even so bold as to think 'well, guess he's never coming out then.' Being mellow dramatic at 40 weeks pregnant is completely warranted ok? So at this time,  I awoke to some pretty intense cramps in my back. Unfortunately this had happened almost every night for the past two weeks so my expectations were low. Even still these were 'cant fall back asleep' ' worthy.
As I lay there,still, just listening to the clock tick. Another one. A few minutes later here comes another. I'm fully awake at this point just ready to shake my husband awake in excitement that this is indeed the real thing! I was still a little in disbelief, also a little bit starting to freak out because the pain was becoming familiar and I knew it was only going to suck more from here. So I waited through another one to mentally prepare for either the disappointment  of getting everyone all riled up and still be nothing [and feeling a little bit like a whimp because if these weren't real I might have to rethink my birth plan] or for the thrill of meeting our new baby. I nudge [shake] Cole awake and say something along the lines of 'I'm having contractions stop sleeping now'. Also having checked on me for weeks and timed countless Braxton hicks during our Grays Anatomy binges with me he also was not ready to come to terms that this could be the real thing. --He's also not a good person to wake up in the middle of the night on any night but that's neither here nor there.
We whisper back and forth deciding whether or not to wake up my mom. We decided 'might as well'. So the three of us are awake and debating if now or later is a good time to go to the hospital. A few need to know facts are we live about 30-45 minutes from where I was delivering and I have an irrational fear of giving birth in a moving vehicle unless said vehicle is an ambulance. I also went in too early with Bentley and regretted it. I was doing this all natural again so I wanted to do as much as I could at home before I was stuck on a monitor and/or possibly be sent back home. As we were discussing all of our options I started to get to a place where I had to stop talking and do a little dance against our half wall to labor through some pain. That's when my mom -being the wise woman she is-  told us to leave and probably stay in that area no matter what. So it was now around 4am, we grabbed the bags, kissed our sweet sleeping baby on the head and bid farewell to the life we all had been accustomed to, had an impressive contraction before I could jump in the truck to head to the hospital. As we drove I got a little sick  due to the pain but also from sitting. Cooper was pretty far south and hanging out towards my back so sitting made everything feel super pleasant.I wanted my dancing method back. The guy at the gate, bless his heart, noticed my seemingly crazy breathing and was obviously terrified as he  asked Cole if I was 'ok' and to my husbands true form he nonchalantly said 'she's in labor' and the man quickly gave us back our IDs and we sped off.
Somehow we got up to labor and delivery. I don't know if I've just blocked it out or just was too excited that I wasn't paying attention but I really have no recollection of walking from the truck to the elevator and through the double doors. Anyway, they send us into triage where they check me and I was 4cm dilated so all systems were go. I was technically able to be admitted but that would mean being hooked up to monitors and possibly IVs and just nonsense when you're trying to dance around through contractions. So they wanted me to stay for an hour or so to see how fast I was progressing. So they hooked me up to those annoying belts that make sure Cooper isn't having a hard time and there we did more sitting. Cole took a nap and I watched a cooking show. It was now around 6:30 am and they came to check me again. I was now 6cm dilated. I felt pretty good at this point and was actually starving and wanted breakfast. So I asked if we could go to the Denny's down the road and get some food because I really didn't want to be admitted until I was 'climbing the walls' as someone described it to me once. Now you might be thinking I'm crazy but I was in labor with Bentley for 30 hours. No drugs. Little intervention. And I was terrified of this going the same way. I may be tough but I'm no saint. 30 hours of excruciating pain is no picnic. So since I was still able to walk around and mostly talk during contractions I wanted to keep going on my own.

The nurse went to ask if they were comfortable letting me get too far out of their sight and the conclusion was I could not leave the hospital with how fast things were moving and how close I was but they agreed to let us go down stairs to the bagel shop if we wanted to get some food. Off we went down the elevator and as we started down a long hallway we began a series of stops along the walls every 6 feet or so. My amazing husband was calm collected patient and so supportive even though he was starving.
We were about 15 yards away from the bagel shop and there was the reception desk where  a sweet elderly lady was working. I stopped to breathe through a contraction there and the poor woman was very concerned for me. She was persistent that I needed a wheel chair and we tried to explain that I was in labor and was trying to walk it out. She didn't back down without a fight which was sweet. By the time we got to the bagel shop I was anything but hungry but I knew Cole was so I said ' Go ahead and I'll wait out here then we can head back up to L&D'. So I waited for what seemed like an eternity. Mind you it was now around 7:30-8am and people were filing in for work and I was standing right in front of the main entrance. So many people were watching me doing my Cuban  motion and breathe very low breaths -- it's amazing how little you care about what people think when you're in that much pain.
We started our journey back upstairs and coincidentally had to stop in front of that poor lady again. She insisted again but so did I and we trecked on, stopping  about every minute. At this point I was pretty close to climbing the walls 'literally'. We got stuck in the elevator due to my contractions and Cole had to basically lift me out of it or else we probably would have just delivered right there. We got back to our triage room and as soon as they saw me they knew I was ready to be admitted. I stood in the doorway of the triage room and danced through a contraction and had enough time to walk directly across the hallway to dance again. No sooner I had darted to the first trash can I saw because the pain was making me nauseous . I scribbled my signature on some consent forms, tried to hold still as they hooked me up to the fetal monitor, and was poked more than I was bargaining for while putting an IV port thingy  in my hand. I had remained relatively calm up until this point but now things seemed to get chaotic from there.  It was now about 9:30am and I was feeling an all too familiar feeling of 'transition'. My amazing midwife was very confident my baby boy would be making his entrance within the next hour or so. I however was not convinced because of my previous labor and false hope. I started crying and pleading that no one would lead me on. I was so scared I was still in for 20 more hours of this pain. While working through more contractions something changed and I let out a scream --which I apologized for a few minutes later. That's when they checked me again and I was now at 9.5cm and we were just waiting for that last bit of dilation and for my water to break then we could start pushing. When my water did break they noticed some meconium[or however you spell that]  in the amniotic fluid so when he arrived he had to be swept away to make sure he didn't breathe any of it in. I was ready to push but I was told to hang on to get everything squared away and when I was given the 'ok' I gave one big push and he was here. 10:30am my baby boy came zooming into the world and has been a joy ever since. We stayed in the hospital a little over 24 hours and we started our life together as a family of 4. It's been an incredible year. Adjustments were hard but God is faithful and we can't imagine life without our pup!

Your Choice

Disclaimer

Hey y'all,    
      I know I have not posted anything since the New Year. I have written a couple unfinished posts, but I just didn't feel like I could post them. I want everything I post to be kind, candid, relate-able, light hearted and above all glorifying to my heavenly father. So as I type know that although not well organized, each post has been prayed over, and I'm taking this very seriously. I love when I come away reading something very inspirational, funny, and informative. Its motivating and I want everyone who reads my blog to feel that way. It wont always happen mostly because you can't please everyone. That being said, lets dive in.

         Today is the 14th day of Lent in case you didn't know that. Lent -- also if you didn't know -- is a time of reflection and preparation for Easter. Lent has been something I've "done" for as long as I can remember.  I was raised Catholic and my parents would make it a point to teach my brother and me what it means to "sacrifice" by having us give up something for the 40 days and nights leading up to holy week. It didn't hold much meaning for me back then. It was more like, "Boo. I can't have candy for what feels like FOREVERRRRR."  Now, in the past couple years it has shook me to my core what this season is for. Maybe because I'm getting older, or possibly my role as a wife and a mother, I'm not that sure. But this season of my life is when God decided to rock my world and get me back on track. My "annual sacrifice" [bleh, how shallow does that sound? ] is to give my beloved Facebook/social media a break.

     [Side bar: I'm not cool. Not even a little bit. I don't know how to play it cool either. I am the annoying person blowing up your news feed about how cute my kid is every day since 7am. I like to make it my diary. I've used it as a pedestal and to point fingers. You know the sort of person I'm talking about right? "The Facebooker". Yep that's me. My name is Tori Nordyke and I'm a facebooker. You have full permission to hate on me. I will probably just write a passive aggressive status in retaliation like the best of them, because my maturity level exceeds all. Pffff. Anywho...]  

I've always enjoyed my time-out [not to mention its so needed] and since it has definitely played a big part in my social life since becoming a mom because lets be honest its not what it used to be. Try rollin up in the club with a baby on your hip. [ok I've never done that and would not advise you to either just for the sake of all but you get my point] I think I'm staying connected and I think its helping me feel good. I have to choose to read a book or play farm animals with Bentley instead of browsing my newsfeed for Lord knows how long. "Oh, you're home already honey? That 12 hours sure went fast." [That's you too don't you deny it] I choose to give my attention after B goes to sleep  to Cole as well.

     Now, we are going to take another step back and look at my New Years Resolution. I have been feeling pretty poopy lately. Yep, poopy. I am a mom guys, work with me. When I say lately I mean in the past few years. Physically, mentally, emotionally, any kind of way it was not good. I dabbled in some explanation in my last post. So, instead of feeling sorry for myself for the...I don't know 22nd year in a row, I resolved to change. I chose. I know, I know, "New Year, New Me" blah blah blah. Its not all that original. None the less I have been on the pursuit of happiness ever since. Let me tell you. Its been eye opening. 

      I started with finding a set time to go to the gym. My post baby body has been just less than thrilling to me so it was first on my list for change [as it is for most of...everyone]. So, Let's here it for the 5am-ers! Woop Woop! Brace yourselves lads, I actually enjoy it. Does it make it easier to listen to that obnoxious sound emanating from my phone at 4:15am? No. I'll repeat that. No. But I choose to wake-up and put in the effort. Do I like the deserted highway, the focused-fellow-gym-go-ers (are you allowed to hyphenate that many times? yikes)? Do I like that, although I am head over heels in love with my sweet, almost two year old, Bentley Boo, I get to spend a good chunk of time solo? OH YES to all of the above. It's the little things that are making my transformation into a gym rat worth it and saying yes to the choice less bothersome.

       The next thing I did was to also set time aside for God. Wow. My life is so busy I have to carve out time for the one who gives me the time of day? Gross. Unfortunately that's what I've come to. I am so consumed by anxieties and "whoa-is-me-ness" that I just made sure I was never in the silence of my heart. From sun up until sun down it was check list time. Now, I only really started hitting all this hard in the past 2 weeks so I can't honestly sit here and tell you I'm completely different. Its not always automatic. I have to choose to do it. I'm just getting there. The goal of being all knowing is not attainable because God is too amazing to figure out. But every day I make a choice to, roll out of bed and slink over to the gym, come home, make breakfast for my sweet husband, and spend time just hanging out with my creator.

     Honesty check guys. I wasn't sure where this post was headed and to be honest it still has its fuzzy spots but to tie these ends together I'm going to share with you my devotional for the day. I'm reading from She Reads Truth's Lent study called Jesus, Keep Me Near the Cross. Today's reading was named, Wash Me Lord. I wont give you too much of an interpretation because I could not do it justice. I also am no theologian. But its leaving me awestruck at how applicable everything I'm reading has been to my life so far. Although I'm no stranger to these jaw dropping moments I am going to share with you, I still find myself left in wonder of his AWESOMENESS. Here I am going on and on about all these things to make myself better. None of which I could do on my own. These things are purely physical. This morning I read something that really resonated with what I'm trying to explain. When our soul is sick we seek physical comfort.. She gave examples of bubble baths, chocolate, and pedicures. I love me some chocolate and I will never turn down a pedicure. It does do the job for the moment. Can I get an amen? You've never left the spa after a massage thinking I will never do that again I would rather clean the toilet, its cheaper. Well...maybe you have...in that case forget it, and you and I can't be friends then. Okay, just kidding. Where was I? Oh yes. God is the only way I'm ever going to feel that fire again. I'm his daughter and my pain is his pain. He finds me and wants me to just come sit in his lap just how I am. He doesn't care how far away you are. He will meet you there. What a friend, right? Do you have a friend that will just go any distance to be with you when you're less than exciting to be around? Rare. Somewhere someone says no. No judgment, I stink as a friend sometimes, I stink as a mom at least once a day, I stink as a wife very often, but what does that mean to Him?

"I don't have to run to defend myself.

Christ calls us to repentance, and He is our DEFENDER."

Whaaaaat? That's pretty cool. We are simply asked to repent, soften our hearts, and just repent. "I'm sorry for wondering God. I got pretty messy out there, will you clean me up?" in my head the response to that is something like "UM YESSS!! What took you so long? I've been waiting for you!"  Maybe its just me but that gets me pretty giddy. He doesn't hold it against me that I have fallen off the Facebooker wagon again since last year. I can forget and knowingly put off my daily devotion and he loves me still. I can look a certain way, I can be a naggy wife, a unfit mother, and his answer is "Let me clean you up. I got your back." Who needs more of that in their life? ME! When sticky fingers wont stop touching...everything and I lash out unnecessarily, I want to choose forgiveness. When unavoidable arguments with your ball and chain [ha] I want to choose love. But for when[not if.] I don't, because I decided to go out on my own, I want to chose God. He's got my back. It doesn't matter what I did. He's there.

       Alright, so this post is all over the place. Bare with me. So in your day today, you feel 'stinky' about how you treated your spouse, again, or brushing your toddler off because you did not want to read 5 Little Monkeys one.more.time even though you know how happy it makes him, or because you're feeling stinky about your weight, just whatever it is go back to what you know. God will defend you. Chose him. Say, "I AM sorry for messing that up today, will you help me be better next time." I can guarantee his answer will be "YES". Every time.

      Okay to wrap it up, I think all I was supposed to do here was maybe share my excitement of my own recent events. Maybe get someone else excited again. That's what I love. I love to feel the excitement and to just explode from the mouth. [Ew. That's not as gross as it sounds.] It doesn't make sense while I'm typing or literally word vomiting all over everyone when I'm pumped up about something and I'm not hiding behind my screen. But its what gets me going. Maybe that's why I'm a facebooker. If you have kept up with me, in this post, God bless ya. At any rate, you have the choice to do something right now, and it's a good feeling. Join me in choosing God today. Choose love today. Choose to do better. Choose happiness.

When Fear Leads

Good morning! Or maybe good afternoon or even good evening.

 Well, where ever this finds you today I hope it's good. It's been awhile since I've posted and I really have no good reason. So many things have popped in my head the past month and I couldn't bring myself to share. But that's why I'm going to share this...

   Do you have a fear? [this is where every single one of you should reply with a yes. Don't worry your secret is safe with me.] 

fear

ˈfir/

noun

noun: fear; plural noun: fears

1. 1.

   an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat.

   "drivers are threatening to quit their jobs in fear after a cabby's murder"

   synonyms:

   terror, fright, fearfulness,horror, alarm, panic, agitation,trepidation, dread,consternation, dismay,distress; More

That my friends is the copy and pasted version of googles definition of 'fear'. We can all relate to this in one way or another. If you feel brave, share what your fears are. I have many fears. Phobias if you will. Fears that are full blown anxieties.

   The fear of rejection for example. Now, you could argue that that's a pretty fair trepidation. Everyone wants to be liked and being rejected quite frankly sucks. Most people, and I say that loosely because I don't honestly know for a fact if 'most' people actually do this, but, they move on from being rejected almost instantly or they don't put much thought into their encounters with the outside world. 

  For me it ranges from 'stranger to best of friends'. Strangers, like the cashier at Target not laughing at my, admittedly, dumb joke, sends me into an anxiety ridden car ride home. Or the acquaintance you see every so often, who you can't seem to stop bringing up how much your kid likes cheese because you're too scared to say anything meaningful, leaves you regretting not getting to know them better and fearing they don't want to get to know you.

Then, even with an extremely close friend you long to just be honest and say 'my heart is hard and sad, I need someone to help me' but you can't trust them enough to let your guard down because you would rather go at it alone than to be rejected by them. So you smile on, you give out another lame joke to lighten the mood, and keep yet another person at arms distance.

   Loss is also a great fear. I wake up every morning fearing that Bentley died in the middle of the night. Or he's unconscious because somehow I didn't know he has an illness that came up over night. I play in my head that Cole gets into a car accident on his way home from work and all of a sudden I can't breath. I dread phone calls because of the horrifying news that might come of someone I love not coming home. The list is long. 

  That's me. It's probably you too. It seemed to get worse as I grew up and now being a mom. Wondering if you're going to make friends in new friends, stressing if the lady next to you thinks you're being a good mom, being unable to sleep for fear you have an unwanted guest in your house, and the worst, Terrified that your loved ones have been taken from you. 

   Satan wants to steal our joy. He wants us feeling alone and broken. That's when we are most vulnerable. He has snatched me up so many times and it's not pretty. He assists me in destroying everything in my path. It feels good. He plays the role of what I long for most so I do anything for it. But then something happens. That tug. You know the one I'm talking about? The one that could almost be described as someone litterally trying to pull you away from the wreckage. Thank God, litterally, that HE does pull me back. That's where I'm standing today. Fighting back and clawing my way to good. 

The past, I dunno, four-ish years of my life have been really hard. Not bad. Just hard. I have been so incredibly scared. All  the time. Im tired and I'm asking God to pick me up. Maybe you're tired too. Ask him too. This is not a 'I've overcome my fears and I'm going to give you wisdom on how' type of post because I'm not there. It honestly is just MY first step in chipping away at my fear and showing truth. This is me. I'm a wife, a mom, a daughter, a sister, a friend, and I'm scared.

    Isiah41:10 says 'fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.'

    Today I'm thankful for this promise and I'm looking forward to the journey of healing.

The Pinecone, the Rock, and the Tree

Our story begins on a quiet street with a cool breeze rustling what's left of the browning leaves, the sun shine peaking through a light cloud of smoke, and a mother and her son walking hand in hand. 

As you probably guessed this story is about Bentley and me. You're pretty clever. Nothing gets past you.

Moving along, I'd like to actually take you back a day and a half. The day I started on my journey of memory lane, remembering what it was like to be vomiting for what seems to be no apparent reason. This time was unlike any pregnancy symptoms [trust me people, when I know you'll know ok so just be patient and if that day comes we can all party together.] no no this time was just a good old fashioned food poisoning. Or so I think. Could've been a bug but either way....you're vomiting and hating anything and everything. 

Ok...can we just take a moment and appreciate how AWFUL that sickness is. Out of them all I have to say id rather be a stuffed up, coughing, achey mess than to be surrendering at the foot of 'the John'. Am I right? Yuk. 

Anywho, bada-bing-bada-boom I'm here hanging my head over the porcelain thrown and all that's running through my head is 'THIS IS THE END' 'I will never eat again' and 'I would surgically remove my stomach myself if I could stop throwing up for 2 minutes'. All of a sudden everything becomes irrational and dramatic. One more thing had popped in my head and it's been weighing on my mind ever since. 'I never want to be pregnant again'. In that moment it was hard and true. NEVER again will I put myself in a position to do this again. When I was, finally, coming up for air more often than not I had an awful feeling in my gut and not the kind that was causing me such turmoil moments prior. I was no stranger to the ole 'Lou' when it came to sickness. From about week 6 to... Week 30 I was litterally suffering from 'morning sickness' when I was pregnant. So over half of my pregnancy was committed to sleeping on bathroom floors and ER trips. This was two years ago now, I quiet honestly had forgotten the feeling and have been dreaming of babies and feeling like maybe this could be time to start a new adventure by adding another little human in our life. But as I'm huddled on the bathroom floor like I spent most of my days only two years ago, I felt so sad that I couldn't bare the thought of this being my life again. So as the night went on and I eventually decided I better go into the ER for fluids, I pondered this over and over again. 

When the vomiting ceased and the rational thinker and less dramatic....HAHAHA that's not a thing....me, came closer to the surface, I started to think of how dumb I had been. I searched for my baby boy who I felt like I hadn't seen in weeks! And just held him. I felt his warm silky cheek on mine, his tiny hand on mine, his sweet scent wafting into my nose making the most sickly feeling vanish in an instant. WHY WOULDN'T I do that again?

Which brings me back to today. Fresh air needed by me, mommy son time definitely was a must, we gathered ourselves and started out the door. 

His tiny fingers clutching mine, we walk in silence mostly, just watching leaves skip across the road and admiring neighbors decorations. Then he kicks a Pinecone, and just like that we are playing a game. I kick it, he kicks it, he bends down to grab it and throws it, and then I do the same. His giggle fills the calm and all I can see is his smile. As any toddler game it's short lived and his mind wonders off. Then he takes off running and I tell him we are going to race. An advantage for me as I'm still queasy is my one step equals his hurried toddle [hands waving and knees high]. We squeal and laugh to the corner of the street and he held my hand once again. Content with the simplicity of just being there. We round the next corner and start up the drive way when another treasure is found. A ROCK. Not just any old rock. But the squareish rock of the thousands of rocks in the driveway. He picks it up with his chubby fingers, runs up the drive way and throws it. An eruption of laughter again. How is he this happy? What's with boys and rocks? But his giddiness overrides the questions and I watch his joy become mine. We make our way to the back yard where he then runs around and finds one of the many trees that fits his fancy. Small and meek compared to this tall sturdy tree. He picks at it's bark. Fascinated at the flakes crumbling in his hands. He moves on. After lots of car rides and baseballs hit, we make our way inside so mommy doesn't keel over and continue our relaxing routine inside. 

So many times I find myself saying to myself 'live in the moment' 'cherish this time' 'he will only be this age once' and rarely do I take mine and a lot of trusted family and friends advice. 

Granted, the beauty of food poisoning is bleak, but what I mean is I didn't take a chance to appreciate that I made it through it. I made it through my hyperemisis and I made a HUMAN while doing it. That's pretty cool. I felt like I was cheating any baby I may have in the future of feeling wanted and appreciated because I am 'living in the moment' of the negative. The bad stuff doesn't last forever. If anything it makes it much more worth it. Especially, if you take a moment to notice the pinecones, the rocks, and the trees. 

It's All About 'the Climb'

Thank God it's Friday, amen? 

This post is coming to you early than I anticipated for two reasons.

For one...I mentioned I like to talk, but I can be obnoxious with it so I was trying to refrain to posting maybe once a week. Gods in control however and I get a feeling someone's in need of a virtual giggle. 

Second reason...the subject in itself I was not planning to go here in parenting for at LEAST another...is never an option? No? Okay my higher ups say that toddler transitions are regrettably unavoidable so let's just say I was hoping for at least another 6 months or so. 

'Get on with it Tori we are dyyyying with curiosity to hear about what could possibly be going on in your life right now.'

Okay here's your fair warning that it's probably not that exciting nor blog worthy but, hey, we are here already. 

Now, if you know my sweet Bentley, you would know that he does everything at warp speed. I do mean everything. Not to be confused with he does things before any other kid his age, there's no room for comparing around here. Unless you're saying my baby is the best, then please, don't be shy. 😉 Ok, you still with me? Bias aside, I think he is pretty intelegent. Unknowing where it originated from, but he somehow came to be pretty bright. So from birth he has had a habit of testing a 'skill' out, such as holding his head up, rolling over, walking, once or twice and then stopping almost immediately for a long[ish] period of time. Walking,for example, he took his first steps around 8 and a half months! 

'YAY Bentley! Our child will be in the Guinness Book of World Records for walking before any other baby EVER'...yes we are first time parents give us a break. 

But then he just stopped. We would try to get him to do it for people and practice and nothing. Eventually it did turn into more test drives while he thought no one was looking and holding one hand of whoever could stand better than he could--he took out a toddler or two. Whoops.-- He had a look about him however that read 'I'm going to figure out the technique first while watching then I'll do this thing they call walking'. So he gave us a few previews, then a week after his first birthday he just took off making laps around the house and didn't miss a step. That's our Bentley. Cautious yet daring.

Okay cool story Tori but, what does that have to do with anything. Well, I will tell you, a couple weeks ago I saw Bentley swing his leg over the side of his crib while I was trying to put him to bed, and I got wide eyed just watching to see what he would do, ready to catch any flying body parts if need be. So like any other time, he put his leg back on his side of the crib and got 'the look'. 

'Crap', I thought. So after his sleepy eyes gave up and my ninja like exit was perfectly executed I went to Cole and told him the tale of Bentley's new trick. Being a 'present' dad, he knew too that this was not a good sign. But all we could do was wait. Wait for the fateful day that our fearless little man would make his first escape out of his preceived jail cell. 

For a side note, our new house has all tile floors. I was fortunate enough to be the first one to fall on this beautiful floor and let me tell you, it felt like a pillow from hell. So you can imagine the scary thought of a one and a half year old falling on this said floor. The blood, fear, and the ambulance ride is already playing vividly in my fellow mothers' heads just like it is in mine. It's a thing. Unavoidable. We worry.

So here I am today. Home alone for the 7th day feeling like a MILSO warrior that could take on Voldemort himself if faced with him. --haha yep she's that girl-- 

It's no Chamber of Secrets but my battle with nap time and Bentley just is never a fun one. Today I thought he had fallen asleep like he had been all week. Peacefully, deeply, and gracefully. HA! 

30 minutes into 'Live! With Kelly and Michael' I hear a really loud whining and a knocking on a door. [thankfully it was this and not blood curdling scream] 

'Craaaaaap. Either my worse nightmare has come true and some mad man is in my sons room and knocking on his door to warn me I should go in there...or Bentley's climb has finally happened.' Alas, it was indeed the climb. You might ask 'Tori. How do you know he thought this through? Maybe he's just winging it.' Very good question my friend, very good question indeed. How I know for a fact, is what I found in his room was unmistakable evidence. He had thrown all his treasures from his crib [pillows, blankets, teddy bears, what have you] on to the floor in a pile just in front of his crib as for a safer landing. 'Good Grief'.

So it's happened. We are here. Thankfully without blood, fear, or ambulance rides today. But. I do fear that this won't be the last Bentley adventure that has me pacing the floor. Haha the question is...now what? I'm still trying to figure out how we went from bassinet to jail breaks in such short of time... I am ill prepared. Do we change his bed? Do we add carpet to our floor? Do we just put him in a bubble? Parenting, ladies and gents...

With that funny story --in my most humble opinion-- I think there is still a lesson to be learned. Ooooh the lesson. Here goes. God thankfully gave me a boy. An adventurous, Loving, silly, thrill seeking, BOY. I like things done on 'Tori time'. It's a problem. Control control control. In a year and a half God has chiped away at me, trying to set me free of this burden, by giving me a boy. Not just any boy. This boy. Transitions are fast and recovery time is short if any at all. So you can imagine my whiplash-like reactions when I think he needs to sloooow dooowwn. 'IM NOT READY!' I know I'm not alone in this, I am sure there are plenty of moms that also have their fair share of 'wait when did you learn that?' moments. I don't know about you but, I have a lot of learning and chipping to do STILL and as you may very well know motherhood is an uphill climb. It does not get easier. It has it's glorious changes like, sleeping for longer periods of time and getting your body back after feeling like a milk cow for so long, but the lack of control does not, however, get easier. We claw and scratch our way up just trying to survive sometimes.  So as I learn to let God lead me and watching my baby turn into a boy, I,  like Bentley, am learning 'how to'.Taking a step back and looking at what I have to learn, to be brave enough to take those steps or dive over the edge and have the faith that it'll be ok. I can sit there and analyze it all so as not to make a mistake, but eventually I have to take that chance and let go. 

You Learn as you Go

Hi there!

Here it is. My first blog post. 
If you're browsing through I want to thank you for taking the time to read my ramblings. 
I figured I should start off with something about me. Before things get too weird and personal. Hang on tight everyone. My name is Tori, I am married to my very inconsistent, but none the less high school sweetheart and love of my life, Cole, going on 3 years now, I am a mommy of one smart, funny, handsome toddler, Bentley, and we are a military family. My husband joined the military 4 months before we got married and life has been a whirlwind ever since. I grew up in a very small town in the Wet Mountain Valley in Colorado. My mom and dad raised my brother and me with the love of God in our hearts and a sense of humor in toe ...or in elbow rather? That was a weak joke. You catch my drift anyway. You could say I lived a sheltered life. Does 'where everyone knows your name' come to mind? Well you would be right. I was the one who was afraid to get in trouble, knowing I would know someone who would know someone who would know my parents who would know I knew I'd be in BIG trouble. So I stuck to drawing inside the lines.  Which leads me to my next point, I'm a perfectionist, and not in a funny way. I wish it was. That's a story for another time. Onward. Growing up I had a lot of dreams. None bigger than my longing to be a mom! I knew that until I had a mate to...well ya know... that dream would have to wait so after high school I did what any rule following, average, no-clue-what 

-in-the-world-I-wanted-to-do-with-my 

-life, 18 year old girl would do. I went to COLLEGE! Woooooo! Unfortunately that 'woooo' is exaggerated and I didn't fit in. I wanted something else. So I quit school after a year and persued my next love that had been a part of my life since before I was born-- ballroom dancing. It was a family business so why not take a shot I thought. That was also short lived for my on and off again, star crossed lover, Cole, rode in on his valiant steed with a pretty dimand ring in hand, and we rode off into the sunset and are living happily ever after. Ok...that last part is not a thing but if it was, there would be no need for blogs and then what would we housewives do with ourselves? Maybe get to that scrapbooking New Year's resolution endeavor that lasted...ok it never started. I digress. That will happen. You've been warned. Anywho. Back to the present, we just bought our first home, we just went through our first deployment, we live in the magical land of  Mary Esther, Florida, and for the first time in about 4 years I have nothing to report. No engagements, no weddings, no pregnancies, no relocations [for now], and no new big purchases. It's a relief. It will be short lived like most things I've been through but I am enjoying the simplicity.

Now, you might be wondering where this is going. Well, you and I would be of the same mind set because I'm not sure. I'm not a writer. I like to talk and I like to relate and be relatable. So here I am. Typing away, to probably myself. But that's ok. It might run into just an outlet to express what needs expressing in my life. The good bad and the ugly. I am going to let God lead and we will learn as we go. 

I want to thank you again if you've made it this far already with me. Thank you for choosing me to spend your free time with. Until next time.

Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know it altogether. (Psalm 139:4 ESV)