Mantra

Philippians 4:6-7

6 Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; 7 and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.

I need to claim this scripture as my mantra. 

Anxiety is beginning to consume me.

I have been in this place before a couple of times in my few 27 years.

 (Oh man, Ill be 28 soon, here comes the anxiety.)

It is hard. Being in my head all day is hard.

In 60 seconds I can think about how,

I am trying to loose my baby weight (from Jack, child number one may I add) and am doing okay but stuck at a plateau (anxiety). Will it ever come off? 

and about how,

I recently went out with a friend, actually two different friends on two different occasions. We discussed life, as you do when your with friends, I had to hold back the tears a majority of the time. (Anxiety creeps in because I am discussing life. Life is hard, sometimes overwhelming.) I am sure my face gets squishy and distorted. I know the person across from me is wondering if I am okay, wondering why I look as though I may throw up at any moment. It is because I am anxious.

And speaking of friends, I don't have many. I know it is quality not quantity. (I am blessed and have a few of the best friends a girl could ask for but, we are grown. We have jobs, and families. and they have friends of their own and I well get anxious.) 

It has always been this way for me,  I don't take risks because I worry. I worry about venturing out and not having that relationship work. Or if Ill say something dumb. I worry about the time it keeps me from my family. Or if my other friends will feel left out.

 I worry about everything. It keeps me from connecting with most people. 

And then,

I am anxious about not going above and beyond in school and work. 

I need to be perfect in the whatever class that I am taking a year from now and need to prepare somehow like 5 minutes ago or Ill never graduate. 

(Stress, more stress)

My home needs to be clean, more like pristine to perfection. 

I will (and have) scrub my textured walls until my hands bleed for that moment the UPS man brings a package by and looks in my living room for a millisecond. 

Heaven forbid he sees the finger prints on my walls. 

(Which lets be honest, you know he wouldn't even notice anyway.)

I think of how I aim for perfection. 

I must be the perfect wife, mother, daughter and friend. 

(Bring on the anxiety)

Oh and then,

I struck out while at bat at the softball game Friday. (Potential ulcer right there)

And I would never let myself forget that

Jack needs to know how to read at a 4th grade level. (He is only in kindergarten.)

Max needs to sleep through the night.

Lucy needs to have her manners turned on at all times.

(If this doesn't happen I may die.)

It is getting worse. Sometimes I think it may consume me.

For what? What is it all for? 

Why would I carry all this with me. Daily?

I am of the world.

 I am anxious.

I am OCD

I am a perfectionist.

I am a daughter of the One True King

Mantra:

Be anxious for nothing, pray for everything.

Again,

Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer 

Pray.

It is so simple. 

Thank The Lord it is simple.

 I need simple.

No, this does not fix everything. 

No, I am not perfect.  

No, Ill never have the perfect job.

Or be a size 4

Ill never be a perfect wife, mother, or daughter.

And chances are pretty high I strike out again.

But...

I pray, I pray that

The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard my hearts and mind through Christ Jesus.

I take comfort in this.

And already I am feeling slightly less anxious.

And I pray, this time with thanks.

Memorial Day

I have never put much though into Memorial Day.

I'm sure that's bad to say.

I get a day off work, and usually a burger, so all in all its a okay by way of being a holiday in my book.

Today I got a different outlook.

We watched a short video in church, as we usually do for a holiday.

I like the videos.

They usually get the point across more than someone just speaking.

 I guess to get something to hit home I need a visual.

(Although I'm not sure what exactly in it sparked my way of thinking.) 

Todays video was footage of soldiers fighting.

It spoke of sacrifice and our freedom.

Both I know I take for granted.  

I don't know too many men or women personally who have fought or are fighting now but I do know some.

While sitting there I started to think of the soldiers and their wives, children mothers and fathers.

I couldn't imagine going months with out seeing your son, daughter, husband, wife, mother or father.

Knowing they are where the are but doubting their safety.

Seeing and doing the unspeakable.

Or those men or women who are fighting now at 18, 19, and 20.

They are so young to be doing something so brave.

I don't think I could ever be brave in that way.  

My father passed away March 4, 2012.

He was 66 years old.

He died in a Days Inn Motel. Alone.

The official reason he died is unknown.

We do know he drank.

He drank a lot. So much so his body quit on him.

He was an alcoholic.

He made some pretty horrible decisions in his life. A lot of the contributing to his death and the fact that he died alone.

When my father passed away I didn't have any sort of relationship with him.

I didn't want to.

My mind was completely closed to any sort of compassion or understanding to the way he lived his life or the choices he made.

Today I still don't agree with a lot of the things he did but I feel the Lord has opened my heart a little.

I never thought I would be but I am thankful.

When my father was 17 years old he joined the United States Navy.

He set out to war. The Vietnam War to be exact.

Not sure if you are picking up what I am throwing down but just in case Ill repeat myself.

WAR!

We are talking guns, blood, death.

I'm sure in my wildest dreams I couldn't even begin to imagine what that was like.

From 1962 - 1966 my dad served on the U.S.Ranger

(When I was 17, I worked at retail store and was graduating high school.

And believe me life was "hard" by way of an immature girl standards.)

He, like so many others as 17 and was fighting for his life.

(for me understanding and compassion have started to sink in)

After my dad came home he got married an had 3 kids.

He drank. He made some bad choices. He left.

He got married again, he had 2 sons. He drank. He made some bad decisions. He left.

Then he married my mom. He drank. And didn't drink. And drank again.

Then my little brother and I were born. He drank when were really little and then he stopped.

And then he was a good dad (kind of).

He played with us. And spoiled us. 

He worked hard.

We went to Disneyland quite a few times.

And as I got older we would play basketball outside for hours.

I was young, naïve and pretty darn happy.

Ill even go as for to say that I loved him.

When I was 15 that world ended.

 He started drinking again and did some pretty unspeakable things.

He then went to prison for 4 years.

I never thought I would understand why he did all the horrible things he did or why he abandoned 7 children who desperately needed a father.

I still don't, and am sure I never will.

But I feel I have a better understanding as to why he drank.

I am not sure when exactly but I know my dad was diagnosed with PTSD.

An article posted at www.physiologicallytoday.com defines PTSD as

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is an anxiety disorder that may develop after exposure to a terrifying event or ordeal in which severe physical harm occurred or was threatened. Traumatic events that may trigger PTSD include violent personal assaults, natural or unnatural disasters, accidents, or military combat. 

It continue on to say,

Roughly 30 percent of Vietnam veterans developed PTSD. The disorder also has been detected in as many as 10% of Gulf War (Desert Storm) veterans, about 6% to 11% of veterans of the Afghanistan war, and about 12% to 20% of veterans of the Iraq war.

30 %??

This statistic is staggering.

I know this is why he drank. I know this is why he left time after time.

I hate it.

Why has this never hit me before?

I couldn't imagine having to deal with the images and sounds of war replaying over and over in my mind.

My father was a Vietnam Veteran who suffered for 45 years with PTSD.

My mom is a widow who stuck by an alcoholic for 35 years of marriage.

All while raising 5 children and obtaining an associates degree. 

I am a 27 year old daughter with 3 children who has lost her father.

I would have loved to have a father and have my children have a grandpa.

But those things will never be.

He has now passed.

His story stinks but that alone is not the worst part.

The worst part is I am not alone.

I know their are many men and women who have fought in the past, recently, or are currently fighting who suffer with PTSD.

I know that their are mothers, fathers, sons, daughter, husbands and wives who are dealing with the effects that it has on their loved ones themselves.

I am sad that the price so many have paid for my freedom has not hit me sooner.

I am thankful for the sacrifice that has been made. I am confident my outlook on Memorial Day will be quite a bit different from today on.

The question of if my dad was a good person is still up for debate.

He is defiantly not winning father of the year any time soon.

But I have a new respect for him and all those who have fought that wasn't their before.

Thank you to all those who have sacrificed their lives for my freedom.

************************

I am also thankful the my true Father.

The One who has opened my world to sacrifice, compassion, love, forgiveness, and freedom.

It is to Him that we are all truly in debt.



  



New Adventures

I have always enjoyed taking care of people. 

If any one needs a hug, a band aid, or a blanket I'm your girl. 

I think for this reason alone I have always wanted to be a nurse. 

I have waited a long time to go to school and get a degree. 

But now is the time.
 

I have taken my entrance exam, worked out my financial aid, received my class schedule and even some pretty unattractive scrubs to wear to class. 

Starting Wednesday evening I will be a full time nursing student.
 

I am excited and honestly right now I am terrified. 

I am a full time wife. 

I am a full time mother. 

And I am a full time employee. 

Taking on this new adventure kind of makes me feel full time crazy. 

I don't know I am ready to sleep less.
Im not sure I a ready miss out on putting Jack, Lucy, or Max to bed because I am in school or working late.
I don't want to have to choose between a clinical or lab and spending time with my children.
I don't want to miss anything!
BUT...

I know that in the long run this will give me more time with them and better opportunities. 

So, with that being said.
I. Will. Succeed. 

In 3 years I will be a registered nurse. 

I will graduate collage with a Bachelors degree. 

I will be a better partner for my husband. (Once I get to sleep through the night) 

I will be a better example for my children. 

And I will be a full time employee in a job I hope to love. 

I am praying I survive this adventure.

I know Ill need

Lots of coffee.
Lots of support.

Lots of studying

Lots of prayer.
 

And hopefully Ill survive. 

So ready or not it's time for a new adventure.
Wish me luck. 

8 months

This sleepy fellow is 8 months old today.

8 months going on 3 years.

He is such a big boy all of a sudden.

He wants so badly to hang out with his brother and sister.

It seems as though each day he is learning to do something new.

From 7 months to 8 months he went from army crawling, to crawling, to pulling him self up to anything and everything and standing.

I predict he will be walking with a huge amount of pride by about 9 1/2 months old.

He is so proud of what he can do.

Matt and I on the other hand can't believe it. Especially with how much baby proofing we have had to do. Again!!

He is currently drinking formula bottles only. At first this was a hard transition but seems to be doing very well now.

He eats lots of different fruits and veggies and loves carrots and blueberries the most.

Sleep.. it is still a work in progress. This last week he has woken up 1-2 times each night which is very much an improvement from a month ago and even more so, Daddy can help now!! Yay.

Max loves his blankies at night. He is very much a Ririe in that sense.

He still only has his 2 bottom teeth. Part of me is hoping it stay this way for awhile longer because his two teeth smile is the cutest thing ever.

He is still full of smiles and has the sweetest personality ever and we love it and him.



Gratitude

Not long ago I read a story about a mother who recently lost her 3 year old son. http://www.babyboybakery.com/It was a freak accident. He was playing in his front yard and ran in the road to chase his ball, and that was it. 

He was hit by a truck passing by and died. 

Oh. my. gosh.

To imagine the pain that mother is going through makes it hard to breath.

So many prayers have gone her way.

Last Wednesday I got a taste of something I never want to experience again.

I had just gotten off work and was headed to our babysitters home to pick up the little's. 

When she called, crying.

"I want you to know everyone is okay, but we were just in a car accident and I need you here now." 

My. heart. sank.

As she told me where she was (just minutes away) I drove. I prayed. and prayed again.

She was pulled over on the side of the road in her blue-gray Expedition. 

In the middle of the road was a little red Toyota; glass shattered everywhere. 

I parked and ran to a blonde woman standing on the side of the road, on the phone crying, 

(okay so here is where the pep talk to my self comes in, "self, no matter what you find in the next couple minutes you do. and by do. I mean be Brave. No matter what you see, be Brave")

" Mam, are you okay? Your shaking, are you hurt?"

"No," she said. "I'm fine" (she kept crying, I made her sit down)

Then I noticed her car door was stuck to the front of Christy's car. I held my breath and ran to Christy. She was still sitting in her car; crying.

"Are you ok? 

Are you hurt?

 Did you call the police? 

Are the kids okay?

 Is your husband coming?"

 As I drilled her she just cried, "I love you kids, I would never hurt them."

I know.

I believed her. She is the kind of wonderful blessing only The Lord could have handpicked Himself for our family.

I know this was not her fault.

My kids...... 

 I took a huge breath and held it as I opened the back door to check on my babies.

There he was Max in the middle seat with the biggest smile you have ever seen.

 As if to scream in joy, "Mom, hey, what are you doing here. I never see you here." And Jack and Lucy in the back seat smiling, 

"Hey mom we were in a car accident, but we are fine." Jack said. 

"Are you hurt?" I asked, "Oh no we are just fine." said my Lucy.

The next moments are a blur, we prayed and thanked The Lord everyone was safe. The police showed up. The damage was assessed and information was exchanged.

The Toyota was towed away, totaled I'm sure.

Christy's husband was able to drive their car home and damage that can and will be repaired was all to come of it. 

I loaded my children in my car and started to drive home. I made it a mile or so down the road when it hit me.

All the air escaped from my lungs and I started to cry.

I could have lost them.

Oh.My.Gosh.

Matt and I's whole world was in that car.

What would I have done?

How could I breath. 

How would I be able to function if they were taken from me?

Honestly I don't know if I could.

 But I know that parents are going through losses of this nature on a daily basis.

How the do it I hope to never know. But I do know,

I know The Lord gives and He can take away. 

I know they are only my temporary gift. 

They are not mine forever, they are His

They are my temporary, amazing and beautiful gift that I could never thank Him enough for.

I never want to taste again what I did that day. 

But I am so thankful for the gratitude it has given me. 

I am so thankful for these 3 blessings Matt and I get to raise. 

I am thankful for every kiss,hug and I miss you. 

Every laugh, smile and cry. 

Every cuddle, sick day, and moment I get to take watching them sleep.

Every picture they draw or moment the learn something new. 

I am thankful for how much they make me love their Papa.

And how much closer I have become to The Lord because of them.

I pray that I never take them for granted and or waste a single moment The Lord has given me being their Mommy. 

Thank you!

5 months (1/22/14-2/22/14)

Personality

Happy doesn't even begin to describe Max. 

He is always smiling. Always laughing, even in his sleep.

We laugh because it seems like he is consistently being blown away by something.

It is like he is constantly going, 

"OH.MY.GOSH! Your talking."

"OH.MY.GOSH! Your feeding me."

"OH.MY.GOSH! Your changing my diaper. "

"This is amazing."

He loves his brother and sister and often think they are hilarious. He is so patient. Max gets to ride in the middle of the car between Jack and Lucy and often puts up with more than I could from them poking and pulling on him.

He loves to be carried around, but facing out of course. He loves being included in everything. 

Sleeping and Eating

What is sleep? This guy is up 2 to 3 times every night to eat. He gets tired around 8:00. Sleeps for an hour or so around 10:00 he eats and goes to sleep. Wakes up around 1:00 eat. sleep. up at 3:00. eats. sleeps and is up around 6:00.

I had a goal to nurse him for at least 6 months. (I only made it to 6 weeks with the other 2 because I was working). We are so close I refuse to stop short but I am not sure I can go deprived of sleep for much longer. He is little, only in the 10% for weight at his 4 month check up (12 lbs 6 oz) so we started him on rice. He loves it!! 

He also has tried banana, peas, and avocado's. He likes all of them but it has not helped to get him to sleep longer. Bummer.

Teeth

The only thing that has yet to upset this little guy is the pesky tooth creeping in on the bottom of his mouth. He isn't upset to where he cries for a long time but will defiantly let you know its hurting him at that very moment by yelling, almost as if to whine "ouch". We are very thankful for Ora-gel which ends up making him a pretty happy guy again.  

Max is a sweet guy full of personality. He is adorable, tiny (although starting to get a little bit of chub) and so much fun. He can sit up with some help (it wont be ling until it is without help). And loves to lay on the floor playing with his toys.

I have to keep reminding myself that the days are long but the years are short. I am already starting to miss having a tiny baby but looking forward to having a mischievous toddler too.

2 months old

My baby is 2 months old, and I am having an unbelievably difficult time with this fact. 

It is so much more difficult this time around opposed to the other kids.

It's not that I love him more, (although his is much more low maintenance thank Jack and Lucy are for the time being.) its just he is my baby.

I know this is the last time I will have a 2 month old. 
I know how fast time goes by and I don't want to miss a thing. 

I feel as a working mom I miss so much.

But,

Here are some fun things we get to enjoy with Maxwell as he grows.

     

Mr. Max is such a good sleeper. He wakes up 2 to 3 times a night to eat and then goes right back to sleep once he is done. Although I am sleep deprived, I know it could be worse.

At his 2 month appointment with Dr. W (whom we love) Max weighed 9 pounds and 9 ounces and is 23 1/2 inches long.

One of our favorite things about him right now is he wakes up each morning smiling. Its hilarious and adorable. 
His face must hurt from smiling so much. 
He smiles for about a half hour straight at anyone that will talk to him and then takes a nap. I'm sure it tuckers him out being so cute and all.

Max loves to be held but occasionally he gets fussy and the only thing he wants is to be put on a blanket on the floor. 
He loves to look around and just be. 
He will do this for a long time. Sometimes an hour. 
It is pretty impressive at how laid back he is.

At 2 months old he doesn't look like a baby. 
He is so little. No rolls at all, he is so skinny. Has so much hair. 
He just looks like a little man.

His brother and sister love him so much. They love to hold his hand, get him a binkie, or just talk baby talk with him. 
It is down right the best thing ever, my 3 little kiddos. 

We love this little man and are very blessed to have him in our family.

Birth story

It was 2 days before my due date, and it was an understatement to say that I didn't want to be pregnant anymore.

Not to mention Papa's birthday and the baby's due date were the same day.

I really wanted them to have there own birthday.

So my mom, grandma Sassy took Jack and Lucy for the night Friday. 

Matt and I took it easy. And then the morning came. 

I was going to do whatever I could to get this baby out.

So we walked, and walked, and walked. We walked a little over 4 miles that morning.

I even did a couple lunges and ran about 20 steps.

Around noon I started to have small contractions. They lasted about 30 seconds and came pretty much every 20 minutes for a long time. Around 5:00 it seemed they had stopped. I was so bummed. Thinking for sure I was having false labor. 

So I went for another walk.

The contractions started up again but were still very consistent. One every 20 minutes.

As I have mentioned before the Ririe men are dedicated sports fans. Of course the big rival football game was on that night. Utah vs. BYU. And since I didn't know if I was in real labor Matt's parents, brother and his wife, as well as our nieces came over to watch the game.

Not long after they got there we need snacks. My husband offered to go but as I didn't want to have contractions in front of people without my husband there I said I would go.

No one ever said I was smart.

I walked in the store and had a pretty strong contraction. Okay I thought to myself. Grab the chips and go. By the time I made it to the chips I had another. Yea, its time to go home.

I got home and plopped my whale of a self on the couch and started timing. I had a contraction, took a breath, waited, 5 min later another contraction, breath, waited, 8 min later another. 12 min later another. 5 min later another. For 3 hours it went on like this.

I was getting pretty frustrated. My contractions weren't consistent. You were suppose to go to the hospital when they are 5 minutes apart. Ugg

On the bright side the Utes won. On the downside my contraction were still not regular, it was midnight, and I was exhausted.

Everyone said there goodbyes and left. Matt and I debated on calling my mom to come over and watch the kids just in case I need to go to the hospital in the middle of the night. We decided to have her come over. Better safe than sorry. While she was on her way I went to lay down and rest. My mom arrived by 12:30 and I'm sure that was just what I needed. 

The contractions started to come and they came fast. By 12:50 I was having them every 3 to 4 minutes and yea, they were consistent. 

I told Matt it was time to go since we had a longer drive to the hospital. 

We made it by about 1:10. I don't think we knew what we were in for. 

I walk in the front door to the security desk, and had a contraction. He led us to the nurses station. And I had a contraction. 

We got to our room quickly, I got undressed and checked in record time and had many contractions. I was at a 7 and shaking so bad from being in so much pain. 

I swear not even 5 minutes later I was telling them I had the push.

Those nurses on the other hand were in slow motion. 

But boy did I make them move.

The nurse checked me again and I was at a 10. The Dr. (not my Dr. of course) rushed into catch. Our new baby was born. In the water sack of course. Yep my water never broke. 

And he was a boy.

A beautiful 6 lb 15 oz 20 inch long baby boy.

He was so small.

And so alert.

And so cute.

Maxwell John Ririe

We are so in love.

You are the best baby, ever. I'm positive. 
Our family thanks the Lord everyday for what a wonderful addition you are to it.

6 year old Jack

My bug a rug is a 6 year old.

as I dropped him off at school Monday this reality hit me pretty hard.

He is so big. 

He is so smart.

He is so sweet.

He is so sensitive.

He is so special, man oh man is he special. 

It seems it was just the other day when I found out he was making Matt and I and Mommy and Papa.

After 32 hours of labor and a never to do again epidural the sweetest little boy joined our family. 

He was so alert and barely cried. 

We had no idea what we were in for.

Jack has changed my life more than any other person. 

I am so thankful everyday for him and the blessing he is to our little family.

Jack, I pray as you get bigger (taller hopefully, your a little on the short side at the moment and your little sister is catching up to you quickly.) that you stay you. Bud I can't express how amazingly special you are. You have a wonderful personality full of compassion, and love. 

You are a so smart. Right now you love to learn and are a very impressive reader. 

You love music (i know this isn't a new fact). But for your birthday you got a karaoke machine and you haven't left your stage since. 

You are a born entertainer. I'm pretty sure you will grow up to be a Christian rock star or worship leader. Although you swear your going to be a pilot or a cop. (When Papa told you, you could be a cop that flies planes and helicopters your mind was completely blown.)

You are such a good big brother. Lucy and Max are very lucky to have you looking out for them.

More than anything Jack you love the Lord. Please continue to grow in Him. Seek after Him. Lean on Him. Love Him.

He loves you.

So do your Papa and I.

We love you so very very much.

Happy Birthday Bug.

3 Amigos

Ready to have your mind blown?

I am the mother of 3. 

I know being that Max was born in September (story to follow) this has been news for awhile. 

But I swear every morning it blows my mind as I scramble to feed and dress Max who is now 8 weeks old, and get a 3 year old, and a kindergartner who just turned 6 ready for another day.

I gasp at how crazy my life is.  

If only the crazy antics we encounter daily were at the hilarity level that Steve Martin, Chevy Chase, and Martin Short experience while wearing over sized sombreros and singing catchy musical numbers and end in 95 minutes.

Mine on the other hand are things like being spit up on just before walking out the door to work smelling of a 1 month old's regurgitation for the remainder of the day. 

Having my 3 year old locking her door in defiance because she must where her pj's to church and she doesn't want me to get another outfit out of her room and Dad being out of town and not having anyone to get the door open. 

and having Max cry all the way home only to be joined in the "crying" by his brother and sister because its hilarious to them to drive Mommy bonkers.

Life has sure changed in the last 8 weeks. I am pretty sure I am only barely surviving. But with much prayer, very little to no sleep, and constant change I am hanging on to the fact that when I lay my head on my pillow at the end of the day the word exhaustion doesn't begin to describe how I feel. 
But I am also grateful every minute of everyday the good Lord gave me 3 beautiful children to love and mother.