I *do* love pets. I think.

It's been a while, I know. I'm sure after four days you're all realizing you forgot I even existed wondering if I've fallen off the face of the earth. But I assure you I am alive and a bit insane well. I'd like you to meet Zeus, a German Shepherd/Lab mix, and the newest addition to our family:

But watch your feet and legs and clothing and anything else that moves or dangles. Because he will bite it, I promise you. Unless he's sleeping. Which he actually does a lot of.

Zeus has been taking a lot of my time lately. Basically, anytime I'm not taking care of my kids, I'm taking care of him. And then some.* Turns out having a puppy is a lot of work. A LOT. Who knew?

*I may have exaggerated. I've also been busy with other stuff, too. And I have actually had some free time (obviously, because I'm typing this right now), but I've been consumed in revisions.

But it's okay that he's a lot of work, because I would have gotten him anyway. He's so snuggly and sweet (when he's not biting). So even though I welcome the passing of this potty-training, nip-at-everything puppy stage, he's a great addition to our family.

And it couldn't have come at a better time. Our cat, Bauer (yes, she is named after the best CTU agent this country has ever seen), left a week and a half ago and never came back. And it was really hard for me. Like, I cried and everything. I know, I sound like one of those annoying people whose lives revolve around their pets an animal lover. And maybe I am now.

It took a long time for Bauer to grow on me. I used to loathe her, and I don't use that term lightly. Just ask my sisters how many times I texted them to vent about my annoying cat who used to get under my skin just by looking at me the wrong way.

Believe me when I say I was not fond of pets. Ever since I had kids, I never wanted a pet. Why would I? I already have to take care of and pick up after four people besides myself, so why would I want something else to watch after, clean up after, and who leaves hair and bad smells on everything?

But months and a litter of kittens later, she grew on me. Like, really grew on me. I actually fell in love with her, and her kittens. But mostly her.

I loved it when she was around. When I wanted to be alone, she was the only being I actually wanted in on my personal space. And she cheered me up, every time I needed it. She was so sweet and such a people-lover. She wanted to be with me all the time, even after all the evil eyes and hatred I spewed her way when she was young. She loved us, even the kids. Even Josh, when he'd pull her tail and lay on her. She'd let him. Because she loved us. And we loved her.

And then we got rid of her kittens. Three days later, she left, probably to go look for them. She always left, but the longest she'd ever been gone was twenty-four hours (no, that's not another 24 reference). But two days went by, then three. Then a week. And me--the self-proclaimed pet-hater--was sick over it.

Literally. I couldn't eat. It occupied every thought. I always thought I heard her, and even ran to the door a few times like a fool, picturing her running through the hole in the fence and right into my ex-animal-hating arms.

I was so depressed and didn't want to do anything. I wanted to go out and find her, but didn't know where to look. And I was scared what I'd find if I did. I sobbed, for a whole day, and my heart literally hurt. (And still does)

Ridiculous, right? She's just a cat.

Well, that's what I would have said before. But now I don't care. I admit it:

My name is Jennie Davenport, and I'm a Bauer-lover. No, scratch that. I'm an animal lover. Deep breath.

(Hi, Jennie.)

I just miss her. And one day, Dave told me straight up that I needed to get over it. I needed to stop holding to the hope that she'd come back. Because, realistically, she wasn't. She was gone, probably lost to a coyote or a mountain lion, or maybe even a havalina.

And that just made me sicker.

But then we found the ad on Craigslist for a puppy. And Dave's been begging me for one for forever. And I was broken and needed something to take her place, even though I knew nothing would. But, I thought, maybe in losing myself in this new puppy, I'd get over Bauer's loss quicker.

And it has.

And I admit this puppy was hard for me. Because even in the good ol' days of teenage-hood, when I was a cat animal-lover, I never was a dog person. I've never owned a dog, didn't really get their appeal, honestly.

And I'm still not quite there yet. When someone would say, "Look at that cute puppy!" all I'd see is a chore. And an attention whore.

But I'm coming around. And I have a feeling that I'll get so hooked to this dog, even more than I did to Bauer. And that worries me. Because if I was that distraught over a cat we had for a year, how will I be if we have Zeus into my kids' teenage years and then we lose him?

Oh well. I can't run from loving him for that reason.

So, here's to our future, Zeusalicious. You are pretty darn cute and impossible not to love. I really liked walking you yesterday and I love that my kids will have a companion as they get older, one that will most likely be five times their size. Just please get through your annoying stage fast.

And Bauer, I miss you like crazy still. Your food bowl is still waiting in the garage, still stinging my heart every time I see it. So, if you are out there, we're always here waiting.

She used to get between me and the computer when I'd write, because she wanted all my attention. Either that or she thought she was human and wanted to type.

If you made it this long in this sickening, mushy animal love-fest post, then you're probably an animal-lover. Because if you're not, you probably rolled your eyes at the beginning and stopped reading: the very thing I did when reading crap stuff like this a year ago, and still do. 

And the award for Worst Mother of the Year goes to...

I have a serious problem.

And admitting it is the first step. (No, I'm not talking about my addiction to carbs)

If you're not in the mood to read the ventings of a hair-brained, stressed out mom, then you might want to stop right here. If you fancy pity-parties from someone who is a little beside herself for no good reason other than mothering children, you're at the right place, my friend. Just remember I warned you.

Sometimes I don't feel cut out for this whole motherhood thing. And it's not because I don't love it. I do. I wouldn't trade what I'm doing for anything else in the whole world--not even being the author of a New York Times best seller. It's almost scary how much I love my children and my heart literally skips a beat when I look at them.

But I'm exhausted and stressed and overwhelmed, and I'm just not sure how to recharge, because it all builds. And builds. Taking care of three tiny kids all day is challenging, especially when it feels like their goal is to bring me down to the utter depths of losing-my-mind-ville. (Wouldn't that be a cool Facebook ap?)

And today they won. They shot me a hundred times over, then did a victory dance on my twitching, unkempt body. (Did I say unkempt?)

And here's what gets me: I'm sure my kiddos aren't any more difficult than anyone else's four-, two-, and zero-year-olds. Every mother of multiple children goes through this, especially ones who don't have any extra help. Everyone has children whose ultimate goal is to make your life miserable (but can mysteriously show they love you at the same time) by defying your every demand until you sound like a broken record and want to vomit at the sound of your own voice.

I'm not even sure I know how to talk at a normal volume anymore (Jacob Silj comes to mind, hehe). Because it seems that the only way they'll listen to me, in the rare instance they do, is if I raise my voice. And I hate raising my voice.

So if this is so normal, and thousands of other moms are dealing with the same, completely normal and acceptable things I am--

hands/arms always full * anything and everything interrupted with yelling, screaming, crying, or reoccurring "mommy"s (Family Guy anyone?) * being pulled on, yelled at, hit, spit on, target practice, laughed at (in the humiliating way), and defied from five a.m. until eight p.m. * taking ten minutes to load the car and feeling like I've just packed for a month-long trip just to go to the grocery store * never-ever getting a single break (not even while sleeping since I have a nursing baby) except for maybe a five minute run to the grocery store or to the post office when the husband gets home from work

--then WHY do I feel like the only one who's losing it?

Gosh, nothing means more to me than when I'm having a stressful day and my four-year-old, who I just yelled at and sent to time out, hugs me and randomly says "I love you." I love the fullness I feel when they're in my arms, and that fullness can cure anything. But at every other moment throughout the day, the pressure is building, and by the end of the day I want to explode. And sometimes do.

And I don't know a healthy way to let off the steam. I honestly, truly feel like other mothers handle it so much better than me. I mean, we are moms. That's what we do. I've accepted that my days will be like this for a long long while, and that until Luke is older I just will not get a break because it's impossible. I've accepted the fact that they will get up at five a.m.

So why, when they do, do I flip out as though it was the most horrible thing that could happen?

Is it because I'm so exhausted that I can't function? (What the crap am I doing up right now when I should be sleeping?? Oh yeah...basking in the quiet) Or is it because I'm just not cut out for it?

As I've mentioned in previous posts, I have a bit of a temper. And it flares bad when the kiddos stress me out. I'm talking, one tiny thing goes wrong and I fly off the handle. Steam shooting out of my ears, face reddening, uncontrolled curse words flying from my mouth as though I've been taken over (though mostly under my breath).

Like I said, I have a problem. And even though I roll my eyes at my husband when he brings it to my attention (Because, really, who wants to hear that you're a danger to your possessions every time a door is slammed?), I do want to get better.

I want to be more patient. I want to be calmer with my children when they are impossible. I want to be okay with the fact that it never-ever ends. I want to be able to handle it deep inside when I feel at the very end of my very frayed rope, instead of feeling like I've absolutely lost control and the only outcome is exploding or running down the street screaming. And since the latter would be considered child abandonment, explosion it usually is.

I need your help, ladies. Anyone. I've got to get a hold of myself and learn how to "just breathe," or I might end up like this lady here.

Does anyone have any suggestions for stress relief--suggestions that are actually doable with three small children and no way to get away? What has worked for you?

And, please, please tell me I'm not alone here. I know most of you are a stone's throw from perfect, but if there are any others out there with an extremely short fuse, tell me I'm not alone. That way, I just might forgo nominating myself for the Worst Mother of the Year award.

(And no, there is no such thing. I hope. Because if there was, I'd have to prepare an acceptance speech, and I hate public speaking.)

Pumpkin Carving

We've had a pumpkin sitting here for over a week but haven't had time to sit down as a family and actually carve it. So, seeing how Halloween is two days away, we decided we HAD to make it a priority and do it last night or Sam would be utterly disappointed.

As expected, he was really grossed out by the "insides" and it took us a while to get him to stick his hand inside and clean out the seeds. He kept making faces and saying how gross it was. But we finally got him to do it (and we got it on video...click here), and he was better with it than I thought he would be, seeing how he's my little scaredy-cat who hates being outside of his comfort zone and taking risks.

Josh loved it though. Of course he loved it. He's my child who loves making messes and getting dirty. We also got him on the same video sticking his hand in and smiling and gasping.

*Along with that video is another short one from Vegas last month of the boys at Circus Circus watching the juggler.

Tomorrow night is the community Halloween carnival and we are really excited to take the kids. Sam is SO excited to be a dinosaur. We will take lots of pictures.

Here are a couple pictures from last night. A lot more are posted on my facebook account if you want to see more.

Reunited and it feels so good...

I decided I was going to get back into the routine of blogging again like I used to, not just updating bits here and there with months in between. And I figured the first step is to redo my layout and update everything else on my page that hasn't been updated in a year! Yes, I know it's early for Halloween layouts, but I love Halloween and I love Fall and I didn't have the patience to wait! Besides, the black kitty on the layout looks like the new addition to our family, Bauer. I put a picture of her on this post (it's not great, but it's the best I got at this point), because I thought it was fitting with my new layout. :)

I have to admit that part of the reason I feel the desire to spend time on my blog today is that Dave took the boys to Prescott and left me alone for the first time in FOREVER (or it feels like forever...really it's just been many months). WOO HOO! I have to say that since I never get to be at home alone, I am loving the peace, quiet, and solitude. I got to take a shower and actually get ready afterward without kids getting into all the bathroom stuff and feeling rushed, I got to prepare my lesson for church tomorrow without ANY INTERRUPTIONS, and I get to sit here and play on the computer. I thought I'd use this alone time to write or work on my query letter, but I just didn't feel like it, which is surprising.

I realized too that in my blogging absence, I haven't posted anything about my pregnancy at all! So here's a rundown: I am 21 weeks along and we found out 2 weeks ago that we are having our THIRD BOY (Due 1/11/11)! And wow...I'm not going to lie; I was holding out for that girl that I know is out there somewhere, and I was definitely a little disappointed. It's hard to explain, because I wasn't sad about the boy, or depressed by any means...I was happy about it, but at the same time disappointed, if that makes any sense. But I am really excited to have another little guy because I love my boys so much, and though I will be even more out-numbered than now (4 against 1), I have to admit I love that. I actually will love being the only chic...for now. And I love that my boys can be the Three Amigos and be close. Another big plus is that we already have all the boy stuff (even though I was looking forward to buying all the girlie stuff...)! So, yes I know there is a girl out there and I will get her some day, but right now I am so excited to meet this little guy!

He moves like CRAZY. I swear, he never stops. He moves more than either Sam or Josh moved, and I thought Sam moved a lot! My pregnancy is going well, considering. I do have pretty horrible back issues that flare up at the end of my pregnancies and, unfortunately, already started flaring up halfway through with this one. I have many other issues of pain down there, and even experience contractions quite often already, too, but really, other than being stiff and miserable most of the time (I say most because I'm trying to be positive...hehe), it's going extremely well and I can only feel blessed. So far, everything is going the way it's supposed to and everything is at the right size and in the right place. I'm just excited to get this little guy out of me and start the addition to our family!

A thing I struggle with, especially lately for some reason (probably those darned pregnancy hormones) is self-esteem because of what pregnancy does to your body...and I feel like it's just torn me apart and left me with a distorted body and flabby...well...everything. But I've been really trying to place all the expectations of society and the media aside and accept that having a baby has actually made me more beautiful. I have given live to three of God's children and what is more beautiful than that?

I tell you that nothing is. I feel so privileged and special to be blessed with these wonderful spirits and to have been able to nurture them and bond with them, that I wouldn't trade the best body in the world for this. After all, this is why we are on this earth as women, right--to bear God's children. And what a blessing it is! I don't take it for granted at all...

Not even when I'm laying lifeless on the couch because I can't move as the kids trash the house around me. It's all about sacrifice, right? My kids better thank me some day for all I go through to bring them into the world... ;)

There have been a lot of things going on around us, a lot of unfortunate circumstances with friends, or health problems with friends and family that really have us looking at life differently, and it's hard not to get down. It's hard not to ever think, "I'm done having kids after this, because why would I want to bring children into this unforgiving world???" But unfortunately, this is life, and though I question with "why does this happen to this person" a lot, there is nothing we can do about it and we will never have all the answers. All we can do is get through this life like intended, prove ourselves and strive for faith--which at a lot of times feels non-existent, I admit.

But even in all these things happening around us and to us, and through all the wavering, I do love my Heavenly Father and this gospel, and am so appreciative to Him and our Savior. I don't get it sometimes, I don't have answers, but I do have to strive to have faith and know that He is at the helm--no matter how bleak. I am SO extremely blessed, and I pray I will never lose sight of that. I have the most wonderful husband and children I could have ever asked for, a family I never before thought I deserved. We are healthy and well (for the most part) and provided for in so many ways. I am grateful everyday for the blessings we have and how fortunate we really are.

And to anyone who I might have been cold to or offended at all, I am truly sorry. I'm not always the best kind of friend and don't always have the best things to say (or even know what to say in general sometimes), but I do love you all and you each have made an impact on my life that I will never forget.