Octoberfest
Oh October, How I Love Thee…
The month of birthday, babies and baking.
Oh My!
Such Potential
This past weekend had such potential.
Friday evening we decided we would take our little family of three out for dinner at one of the many restaurants at the Rockwall Harbor. The weather was perfect, the patios are abundant and their are numerous fountains to entertain our little man. It had actually been awhile since we had gone out to eat the three of us mainly due to weighing the pros & cons of taking a toddler to dinner. It isn’t that he is so terrible always but he obviously doesn’t want to sit forever and when you spend a lot of your mealtime giving him things to eat and making sure he sees the things that will entertain him you lose that whole “isn’t it relaxing to just talk & not worry about cooking/cleaning ourselves” feeling. However, we lucked out. He was thrilled. (Patios are a must with him.) He happily ate what we gave him, drank our water with the “big boy straws” and was content seeing the fountains and people watching (aren’t we all). I drooled over my husband’s margarita but was content watching our little family enjoy the evening.
After dinner Caden ran and ran and ran around the harbor, grass, and fountains so pleased to have open space and two doting parents watching him. For the first time in this pregnancy believe it or not I found myself realizing how our days as a family of three are numbered and it was just so pleasant to witness us all together on what did feel like a perfect fall evening. It was one of the best evenings I had in awhile and the perfect start to our weekend.
Being this pregnant…and my” this pregnant” I mean that strangers get nervous around me now as if I might go into labor
right then instead of thinking its cute I was fortunate enough to enjoy a Saturday morning/afternoon to myself thanks to my hair appointment backing up to my usual Saturday morning yoga class. I do miss my boys and family time on the weekend when I am not with them but I know it is nice for them to play without me hovering too. So I spent Saturday continuing to be excited for Sunday. Why Sunday? I decided that it would be nice to have some “final family of three” pictures of taken prior to Baby Kaz II’s arrival to mark this period in our life and document both for Caden and Baby Kaz II what this family looked like right before he came. Since I very well can’t take and be in the pictures at the same time I enlisted some help.
A sweet, sweet former dance team-mate and friend from high school has recently been working to kick off her photography business and while I love supporting those that are trying something new as I have done that for myself I thought it was a perfect match. She so kindly worked out with me doing two separate sessions, one now and then one after the baby comes to mark our new family of four. Fortunately we live pretty close to each other and made all of the arrangements to meet. As you can tell from the pictures you often see Caden isn’t particularly camera shy and loves being outside. What could go wrong?
He slept in…he ate a great breakfast…and we left for the pictures so pleased that we were having a good morning because he was going to be SO happy to be outside. Something must have gone terribly wrong in his head in the car on the way to pictures because about 30 seconds after we got out of the car and started pictures he started crying…and whining…and screaming…and throwing himself around…and running away…and having none of it. NONE. OF. IT.
Maybe it was the location we thought. In the middle of some adorable shops & scenery was maybe too much for him to look at and want to get to right? (We were going with any reason.) So, we went ahead and moved to our second location – the park. I mean come on…it’s a park. We live at the park. He loves the park.
So, he was furious the whole way to the park and as we were getting out I then realized that on the drive to the park his sippy cup had been steadily leaking all down the side of my jeans. Awesome. Colter said it would keep me cool. I said people were going to think my water had broke. Caden didn’t care. Sweet Ashley (yes I said sweet again) who is pregnant with her first baby (who I am sure we were traumatizing) even brought Caden a little pumpkin to hold and play with. Sweet right? He threw it. We stood by a great fence with a gorgeous field where he would typically love to stand/sit on the fence as we were trying. He just wanted to crawl under it – while screaming. Then he high-tailed it for the pond.
The best part? Hubs and I look like complete morons. We were at a total loss. Having never seen him react quite like this to well…nothing we had nothing in our arsenal of ideas of how to cure him. The usual distractions? Could have cared less. Snack? Sure…for the ground. Us holding him (a for sure win)? He hit is. HIT US! There is Ashley trying to get some “final family of three” pictures and we look like we should never have had one kid let along about to have another.
I will say this. Maybe pictures of a cranky for no reason kiddo with his confused parents desperate to please and survive the outing is exactly the documentation of this time that we need. We called it quits exhausted and disappointed that of all mornings to have a colossal toddler meltdown it was picture morning and for once we had nothing (teeth/hungry/didn’t sleep/needs nap) to blame it on except his age and frustration. We tried. He tried. Then we all cried and went home. Okay, Caden cried.
The weekend started off with such potential and ended with a morning that wiped us out for the day.
The little man didn’t want to do anything with anything or anyone and that was that.
At least he is decisive.
Thanks Ashley for being so patient with us and still managing to pull out some memorable pictures!
(I’m sure the really cranky pictures & outtakes are even more memorable for everyone)
Mommy Sick Day
When I think of staying at home with my munchkin I feel blessed to have the opportunity to spend these years with him (soon to be them). However, I must say that I would so very much like to have some “Mommy Sick Days” allotted into my benefits. You know something where you wake up and know that you probably aren’t too capable of caring for yourself let alone a tiny human that day so a magic “Stay at Home Mom – Mommy Sick Day Fairy” who is more than qualified shows up to make you soup and entertain your child at the same time.
Mary Poppins perhaps?
(minus all the dangerous flying stunts and spoonfuls of straight sugar)
Oh I see…you think I am being unreasonable.
While this isn’t the first time I wished for this fairy, it all started Saturday. We attended a beautiful wedding and as the evening progressed noticed that Caden’s nose was running. He proceeded to dance his pants off on the dance floor all until he tripped and faceplanted (literally) splitting open his top lip. That made him realize that not only did his lip hurt but that he was quite tired as it was past bedtime. As we were heading home he seemed to be sounding a bit more congested, I on the other hand only felt the soreness of my feet. If only I knew what was to come.
Poor little man had the full blown head cold/congestion/snot fountain move in over night and woke up every hour to cry (with his eyes closed still more or less sleeping) as he felt worse and worse. The hubs and I woke up with each of these cries as well assessing what was going on. As each hour woke us I kept thinking “Man, my throat hurts.” Strange. Yeah, strange until about the fourth time I said that and then the rest hit. I think I have been sneezing, and weak and blowing my nose ever since.
Yesterday the two of us were a pathetic mess. I became more pathetic when my sweet angel baby of a son launched his
full sippy cup at my face with a major league style pitch busting my nose. No I wasn’t looking (cheap shot) not that my stellar catching skills would have done much doone anyway. I burst into tears, he burst into tears, the hubs didn’t know who to tend to first. We have since decided that there surely is a crack on the right side of my nose since it hasn’t’ stopped throbbing and crunches when I blow my nose. Yes…I said blow my cracked nose. Remember? Snot fountain. So now, I can’t tell if my face hurts so bad because of sinus pressure/infection or because I am having to blow a broken nose every two minutes.
Don’t worry, I won’t be finding out an answer because in case you have forgotten, I’m pregnant.
So…I won’t be going to the doc to be put on any antibiotics that “should” be safe nor will my face be getting an x-ray.
(I mean…they can’t do anything anyway other than give me one of those cool nose pads.)
So here in a couple years when I am getting a nose job because of my son’s superb pitching skills I will tell you “No, it isn’t cosmetic at all it is because my son busted my nose a couple years back and it just hasn’t been the same since.” You will judge me and then I will re-post this as proof and although sure it will be cosmetic I will always have the excuse. Come one, I’m trying to find the silver lining, work with me.
I have digressed. Last night I did not sleep. When I would get close to sleep the snot that was streaming towards my mouth out of one nostril would make me roll over (a true physical test these days) to find a Kleenex, wipe/blow the busted nose, wince and become more aware that the other nostril is completely plugged. Add in sneezing fits of 6-10 sneezes in a row (that make me feel as if I might birth this child by sneezing), the nagging cough, the “please don’t swallow it hurts” throat a throbbing face and oh yes, the fact that I am 8 months pregnant and have a hard enough time sleeping as it is. Therefore, as I said, last night I did not sleep.
In fact at 5 a.m. I decided I had tried long enough and spent the next 30 minutes sitting on the floor of a steaming shower. If only it had helped. My sweet hubs offered to stay home and wanted to to help, but I am banking on those days for when Baby #2 arrives so I wouldn’t let him. Instead, I am sitting here waiting for my certified Mary Poppins to show up and rescue us…and wipe our noses. Okay, just Caden’s nose.
He coughs I cough.
I wipe his nose while I am blowing mine.
He lays on my belly, brother kicks him.
We croak through “Brown Bear, Brown Bear” four million times.
He points to the back door and says “Go”. I say “No”.
He cries. I cry.
Mommy Sick Day anyone?
If you see a strange lady flying through the air by umbrella send her my way please.
Introducing #9
On August 26th
Caden’s 9th Cousin Was Born
Kaylie Brooklyn Kazmann
7 lbs 3 ounces
Proud Parents ~ Jordan and Maddie
This past weekend my camera and I went to meet her.
She is the first girl out of Colter and his two brothers.
Kaylie has two protective older brothers.
(JP is almost 4 and Braiden is almost 2 1/2.)
Not only is she my newest niece.
This weekend she became my Goddaughter!
That’s right…I now get to be a Fairy Godmother and you can just refer to Colter as “The Godfather” from now on.
Kaylie joins Caroline, Cate, Cathryn, Cameron, JP, Braiden and Locke in Caden’s list of cousins.
He is such a lucky boy!
A Picture Book Trip
I’ve been trying to tell you about our trip for almost a month now. It seems that I just can’t find the time. Therefore you are getting the “See Spot Run” version. A picture book trip I like to call it.
We were going on a trip and Caden was going on his first flight.
A very long flight it was. 
There was a lot of playing on the beach…
And even more playing in the house.
and hermit crabs…
and a bride and groom!
There were sandcastles and shovels.
Sun-hats and sunsets
A pregnant mama, a doting dad and a blessed family.
See Spot Run?
I mean…see our trip?
I know this didn’t do the trip justice but at least you get to see a little evidence that we went, saw a wedding, family, friends and lived to tell about traveling with a toddler and pregnant woman.
(My sister in law was able to to a write up if you are interested, and you can see pcitures of Caden’s cousins!)
Stamped
His Passport Has Been Stamped
We all survived not only our first flight together, but an international one.
Now, we just need a vacation from our vacation.
Give me a month or two to sleep this one off and I’ll get the pictures to you. 
Operation Backfire
For the first time since the “sick and injured period” in our home, I had a bit of a morning to myself. After a wonderful yoga class that had me feeling quite relaxed and ready for toddlerdom I thought I would extend my relaxation time for a pedicure. It has been awhile, my feet have been swelling already (thank you Texas summer) and my legs ache at the end of the day from chasing Caden and carrying Baby Kaz II. With my husband’s blessing since he was finally getting to play with his son and enjoying it I was off.
Operation Backfire.
I need a spa day just to recover from my pedicure.
Problem # 1: A “Man” who looked no older than 17 was assigned to me.
Yes, I am okaying job discrimination based on gender here. Men shouldn’t give pedicures or manicures because they just don’t get it. Sure, there are men who get pedicures. Not because they want pretty polish that lasts though and not because their tired, pregnant legs need a break.
Problem #2: He insisted on cramming his large man fingers in between all of my toes and pulling on them with all of his might. I kid you not, I thought at any moment I would look and see a toe pop right off into his hand.
Problem #3: He insisted on trying to take my feet off at the ankles since he failed with the toes. I swear to you that he grabbed just below my ankles and leaned back pulling on my legs and ankles with his whole body weight! Ummm hello!
A. This is not a chiropractic adjustment
B. I like my ankles attached to my legs and my feet to my ankles.
C. Please stop messing with contraction inducing pressure points. I would like this baby to bake a little longer.
D. OWwwwwwwwww!!!!
Problem #4: His buddy decided he wanted to watch him. By watch him it meant he was staring at my toes while sitting next to me peeking at my magazine. Personal space anyone?
Problem #5 : I chose a red polish which proved challenging for his polishing skills and his arm which brushed over my freshly polished foot while painting the other. He then touched up those toes but as I am now noticing didn’t reapply top coat over the touch up.
See…this is the details part. The part that men don’t get because they don’t put red and top coat on their toes.
He then proceeded to drop a big glob of red polish onto my NEW BROWN LEATHER FLIP FLOPS!
They are just flip flops…they are just flip flops…they are just flip flops.
But I just bought them last week for my aching feet and now there is a big stain on the strap for me to see every time I put them down and every time I look down at my feet for the remaining days that I can actually see my feet.
I left thinking that I either needed to go right back to yoga or get a drink (neither of which were options) and trying to decide how I should best put my toes and ankles back where they belonged so I could walk to my car. Talk about your ultimate backfire in relaxing.
Expansion Project
Growing up, I had the experience of moving quite a bit. As a child you think this is the end of the world. As an adult, you see the adventure and all the opportunities that lie with it. Of course it always worked out, and of course I am very grateful for those moves and the friends I made in each location. One luxury of moving is that you are able to see houses as just that, a house. It is you, your family and how you want to decorate it and fill it that make it a home. This outlook lets me see houses as frames and ignore the cosmetic stuff. Unfortunately this means that I see all of the projects ($$$) that could be done (usually when my poor father visits). We can add some shelves here, put a built in there, paint this, move that, new , how about a whole new bathroom upstairs to add on to the other guest bedroom. Dreams. One thing we never did much of growing up was expand. The project list will always keep going so we here in the Kazmann household have decided to take on an expansion project.
Caden would like to tell you a little bit about it.
Tricky, tricky!
We are expanding…our family and literally myself.
New Blessing
Do you remember Shannon & Blake? I gave you a little peek of some photos I took to show off a little baby belly on Shannon’s part in the fall in honor of their “family to be”.
Well, I Have Something Else of Theirs to Show Off to You
Let me introduce you to…
Tenley Anne Paul
Born on March 13, 2011 at 7:10 p.m.
7 lbs 19.75 inches
Just look at those eyelashes. To die for those eyelashes are. I had the pleasure of meeting Shannon & Blake’s sweet little blessing this past weekend after giving them a few days to get settled in at home and cannot wait to spend more quality time and photo time with them all.
Four
As I was recently scrolling through the last few posts on the home page I found it interesting that the previous two titles involved the concept of time. Time as in needing or wanting more of it and time meaning it was the moment we had been waiting for. Each year as this day approaches time has a sort of haunting feeling. It is hard not to dwell on the amount of time that has passed since my mother suddenly passed when the day looms this way. A challenge to overcome all of the times she has missed, and the time we have spent missing her. Most of all though it is the go-to phrase of so many who are stumbling for words with “Time heals all wounds.” Maybe even a “It will all get easier with time.”
Time is a funny thing. It keeps us on schedule (or tells us we are off) it wakes us up, makes us sleepy and keeps our bodies on track as to how we should be functioning. I do not believe though that it in itself has healing powers, or the ability to make something easier. Am I more healed now than three years ago, two years ago, one year ago? Sure. Did time do that? No. I did. I put it the work, the reflection, the grief and the dedication to moving on…time just kept going like it always does. Does it heal all wounds? Absolutely not. Losing my mother is not a wound that is just going to go away, it heals with acceptance but not like a cut that goes away never to be seen again. The marks have been left on us, our outlooks have been shifted, the mental images we had in our minds of our future had one key person cut out of them. All of that is healing but it does not vanish as if it never happened. You have to accept that this is a wound that isn’t just going to go away but one that will fade and become part of you like scars from the chicken pox you itched too hard, that time you slipped off the step or even a birthmark. Time doesn’t heal all wounds, we hold the power to allow ourselves to accept and heal.
In the last few weeks I had a sweet friend ask me if days and events like Caden’s birthday felt bittersweet or sad. I love it when my friends feel comfortable enough to ask and bring it up first of all because it is the lack of discussion about many topics in life that make them even harder. Four years ago, I might have said yes. Even then though, I didn’t like the term bittersweet. My wedding was not a sad event. It was a fabulous loving party for me and my husband. Caden’s birth and then birthday was not a sad event at all. I think that being bittersweet means there also being sadness. I have realized that instead of thinking and feeling, “I wish she was here.” on those days which is what I believe might let in that bittersweet feeling I tend to think as I mentioned last year that , “She would have been proud.” That is exactly what I told my friend a couple of weeks ago at Caden’s birthday party. I know that she wouldn’t have missed his party for anything and would have been involved in all of the plans and what I was making for it. As the day approached and the decor I had sewed was hung, the cake in place and my little man was all dressed I thought about how proud she would have been at how beautifully the party turned out and at how much love was there for me, my husband and son.
This past year has brought so many moments in which she would have been proud. The hard parts this year are the things that time has made me forget. Time has taken away the distinct sound of her voice and the pitch of her laugh until you hear something vaguely similar in a store or restaurant that makes you whip your head around trying to place it. That is what time has taken. Time has taken the smell of her until you pass a woman in the department store and it lingers by you bringing back many childhood memories of watching her dress for a party. Time has taken the ability to recall the softness of her hands and the sound of her cry. That is what is sad, that is what time does. I think that is the haunting part about it because how could you possibly forget these things that are your mother. The woman who birthed you, raised you and shaped you. So when asked what has been the challenge this year, I think the forgetful effects of time has been it.
There have been many joys in becoming a mother and remembering her. So many times I have begun singing a song to soothe Caden to realize I didn’t even remember knowing that song except that she sung it to me. The more pictures I see of myself holding Caden the more I see the same pictures of her holding my brother and I. It is hard to imagine myself four years ago and all that has changed without her being here for each member of our family. We have all grown, changed and yes healed in time. Not because time told us to though because we chose to.
For me now, today is my aunt’s birthday and my best friend’s birthday first and foremost.
For my son, this is St. Patrick’s Day. A day to be silly and wear green and maybe even catch a leprechaun.
For our family, we know what today is and we acknowledge it with a fleeting focus that is more concerned with the joyous moments that this day can bring just like any other.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face.
And rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the hollow of His hand.
Irish Blessing