The Four Byrd Boys

I have been way behind in my blogging, and I apologize. I have so much that I want to write about, in all aspects of my life. But today, I’m going to do an update on ALLLLLL of the Byrd Boys! (There’s 4 of ‘em, you know.)

---AIDEN---

Aiden has been doing so well. I could not be more proud of my oldest boy.  Speech problems, behavior problems- they are all a thing of the past. Sure, the kid is 4 (going on 12) and cops a ‘tude every now and then, but that’s pretty normal for a little boy. He is so smart, and so loving. I don’t know why, but I was expecting the worst when we had both the twins back home. I wasn’t SO apprehensive when it came to Aiden, but I was worried that he may get his feelings hurt when mommy had to tend to two new babies instead of play all day with him. However, Aiden took to being a big brother better than I could have ever hoped. I mean, he knew he was Jaxon’s brother but because they’re so close in age, I don’t think he ever registered being a BIG brother. As soon as the babies were settled and he overcame being shy around them, he started to step into the role of their protector and loves on them CONSTANTLY.  I’ll walk out of the room for a second and when I come back in; he’s hugging, kissing, talking, and always trying to make them laugh. He’s so gentle with them; I’ve rarely had to correct him around them. He knows that they are little and precious and loves them so much. It just makes me so happy. He is still my sensitive boy. He is very kind hearted, silly, and...well...kinda clumsy. Haha. He is fully potty trained, with very few accidents here and there. He loves dinosaurs, robots (including transformers) and loves to dance and sing. His favorite color is RED (which he will remind you-constantly) His favorite songs are “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds”, “Hey Jude”, “Let It Go” and “Robot Rock”.  His favorite foods are fruits (peaches, apples, grapes, melon, oranges), cereals, and pizza. I just asked him what he wants for his birthday and he says “Presents.” Lol. I asked him to narrow it down and he said.....”A transformer-a BIGGEST ONE!” Well...there ya go.

---JAXON---

Oh, Jaxon. My little Tasmanian devil. When we first brought the twins home, I was very pleasantly surprised. He was very careful around them. He didn’t have as much interest in them as Aiden, but still watched out for them and helped out when I asked. He always reminded me when we’d leave the house “Momma, get your babies!”. He was still attending daycare, and that place is amazing. His behavior had improved so much, days spent with him we actually enjoyable. I know that sounds horrible but while I was pregnant, Jaxon worried me. He was very, very hard to handle. He was violent, and didn’t listen and nothing was working. Right before I got admitted to the hospital, we found the new daycare and it had been absolutely wonderful. Because of the situation with the twins, and then my surgery shortly thereafter, Aiden and Jaxon could keep going to daycare with state assistance, and it continued that way until the end of July. There was a mix up with health and human services and until they corrected their error, both the older boys had to stay at home. At first, it was fine. But then I started to notice regression with Jaxon in his potty training. He was doing really well while in daycare-Potty trained through the day, and needing a pull up at night.  But after staying home for a week (even with me doing frequent “potty breaks”), he was still wetting his pants during the day and soaking through his pull up at night. His behavior also took a turn for the worst. It was not as bad as it used to be, his violent tendencies were still almost zero, but he started to blatantly act out and not listen. The absolute worst thing that came about, however, was the whining. This kid whined constantly. All day long. About EVERYTHING. It was driving me crazy. I know it was because he was bored. I couldn’t provide him the kind of physical activity he was getting at daycare. We have a park nearby, and we used it. We have a pool- and we used that as well. But, it’s extremely hard for me to handle all four of the boys by myself-so those activities usually waited until I had an extra pair of hands to help me out. Fortunately, the daycare situation got worked out and I do have a plan for when the state assistance ends. So, he’s currently going during the week and his behavior seems to be getting back on track again. Apart from behavior issues, he is incredibly intelligent. All of his teachers have pulled me aside to tell me how well he’s doing. He knows a lot of letters and words, and can count pretty high. He also can build crazy intricate things with blocks, Legos, and he even made a huge pyramid with Dixie cups. It’s so funny to see a little boy with so much energy sit down and concentrate so hard on building. He is still an energetic, adventurous little boy. He’s silly, loves to laugh, and loves to explore.  As of right now, he is still partially potty trained- mostly using the potty during the day and a pull up at night. Some accidents if I don’t remind him to go.  He loves his new yellow chair, his blankie and stuffed puppy named Bo, and like I said, he loves to build.  His favorite songs are “Wheels on the bus”, “Twinkle Twinkle”, “Jesus Loves Me”, “Helter Skelter”, “Let It Go”,  and “Atlas”. His favorite color is Green. His favorite foods are apples, strawberries, sandwiches, watermelon, cheese, and cheeseburgers. Jaxon wants “dogs” for his birthday. He’s obsessed with dogs, lately.

---GAVIN---

Gavin is my only blue eyed baby! He’s such a sweetie, and for the most part very easy going. When he wants something, though, he is much more vocal than Christian. He is pretty big, at almost 18 pounds (from his birth weight of 4lbs 15oz!), and long too! His favorite person in the world is his Daddy. He just lights up when he sees Phillip. Gavin is a better sleeper than Christian, usually falling asleep around 9 or 10pm and not waking up until 5 or 6 am. For the longest time, we had the twins on the same feeding schedule but as they’ve gotten a little older, we decided to let sleep during the night as much as they wanted, rather than wake one if the other wakes. Mommy has been terrible about putting both of these babies in the crib. Gavin prefers to be upright and on his side when he sleeps. So when I do out him in the crib, I prop him on his side the tiniest bit. That’s controversial, I know. But I assure you, he is safe. The biggest problem with the crib is that he tends to wiggle down and gets his legs stuck in the bars-causing him to cry and Mommy to have a heart attack. Now that he can move around and turn his head much better, I purchased a crib bumper. Hopefully that helps with that issue. On his tummy, Gavin is lifting his head almost completely and looking around. If I brace my hands against his feet, he pushes off of them in an attempt to wiggle. He is close to an army-style crawl, I think. He has rolled from back to tummy a few times. He is quicker to laugh than Christian, and thinks it’s HILARIOUS when Daddy claps at him. He is taking 6-7 ounces around every 4 hours during the day, and has just started rice cereal and bananas, which he loves!  Also, though some won’t believe me, he has said his first word! He says “Hey” when I ask him too. I have witnesses!!  I call Gavin “Big Boy” “Sweet Thing” and “Baby Boo” and “Pudge”

---CHRISTIAN---

Christian is my only brown eyed baby!! I never thought I’d be so excited for a child to have my eyes. But, he certainly is. In fact, out of all my kids, Christian looks the most like me as a baby. Dark hair, dark eyes, and a more olive complexion than his brothers. I joke around and tell people that Christian is my grumpy guy. He does tend to look very serious or worried a lot of the time. However, when this baby smiles, his WHOLE face changes. He has the sweetest smile. He is more needy than his brother, and though is not as loud as Gavin, he is quicker to cry or fuss.  He is almost 16 pounds (birth weight 4lbs 9oz) and only a tiny bit shorter than Gavin, though he looks and feels much smaller.  He falls asleep around the same time as Gavin, and would much rather sleep in his swing than just about anywhere else. He wakes up, on average, around twice a night, usually once around 2am, and then again at 6/7. He has less of an issue with wiggling around in his crib, but wakes up much more frequently if he’s flat on his back. On his tummy, Christian lifts his head only for a few seconds at a time. He is much more comfortable in a sitting position, than in a crawling position. HE HATES TUMMY TIME. Though Christian smiles more readily, his laughs are few and far between. But, man, are they adorable.  He, too, is taking around 6-7 ounces at a time every 3-4 hours. He was less enthusiastic about the rice cereal and bananas but seemed to enjoy them, once he actually managed to swallow some. J I call Christian “Bubba” “Boo Boo” “Sweet Thing” and “Leetle Peanut”.

Well! There’s all there is to know about the four Byrd Brothers! I hope you all are doing well and stay tuned, as I will be updating soon about my continued journey in finding God (here’s a hint, an otherworldly message from both Aiden and Jaxon- and my first time drawn to worship at the altar.), my decision to get fit (day 3, hoping to hit 2 miles walked tonight.),  and my battle with depression, self-worth, and confidence.

Have a wonderful day.

My journey with God.

My goodness, it's been a long time since I've written. To give myself a little credit though...I've been parenting four (COUNT EM, FOUR!) children. I will do another entry with updates on all the boys.
This entry, however, will be about an experience I had in church.
I'll say up front, I was born with a Jewish mother, and a Catholic father. I embraced both sides, but never really in a religious sense. On my mother's side, we celebrated Jewish holidays- mostly getting together on Passover, Hanukah, and Rosh Hashanah. On these days, all I really remember were the meals (with the exception of Hanukah...I remember lighting the candles with my mom. I also remember going to a celebration in Mission Viejo, where they sang songs and passed out dreidels and latkes) and the family. We never saw my dad's family much, as we lived in California and most of them lived in Nebraska. But, we celebrated Easter and Christmas- however the emphasis on these holidays were much more geared towards family, rather than faith. You know...chocolate bunnies and presents from Santa. And, I was okay with that! I never felt like I was missing out, I never really gave thought to a higher power. My parents taught me good morals and values. I was accepting of all people and strove to be the best person I could, simply because it was the RIGHT thing to do. I never saw religion as a bad thing, or a good thing. It just existed and I wasn't a part of it.
I attended church with friends several times. I remember having fun in several different churches, but I never really understood what they were talking about. I mostly saw it as a get together with friends, with breaks in between to watch VeggieTales. (I watch them with my kids, now)
However, in 2 different churches, with two different friends, I had some bad experiences as well. I never told my friends, I never told my family- it just happened and I buried it inside. In one event, I was pulled aside by a pastor and asked my background. When I told him how I was raised, he took me by the hand, led me to a small room with a desk and a chair, put a Bible in my hands and told me to read "From here, to here". Now, I was always an avid reader. But this Bible had words I had never even seen and it made absolutely no sense to me. He left me in that room for what seemed like hours (I'm sure it was only minutes) and when he came back he said "Do you understand what you read?" And I said yes, even though I did not. He then said "The only way to get in to heaven after you die is to turn away from the life you've been living and surrender to God." I vaguely remember nodding, and being somewhat depressed the rest of the night. I was around 7-8 years old.
In a different church, with a different friend, I had what I think was a youth pastor ask me what I believed in. When I couldn't answer, he asked me to leave because "The message would be lost on me." He sent some teenager to watch me while I played on the swings and waited for my friend to get out of youth group.
After these events, I had zero desire to attend church. I went a few times again, mostly to spend time with my friends, but I was wary of all the older people. I didn't want them asking questions. As I grew older, my view on the church and God became negative. I didn't believe in God, per say. In my heart, I always believed in a higher power. And I never believed that when you die, your body simply stays in the ground. I had seen things, felt things, that told me otherwise. I refused to believe that your soul, the essence of YOU, dies with your body. But I could not say with absolute certainty what happens. I would not say that I believed in God.
As a teen, at the peak of all of my depression and angst (an issue for another entry, perhaps.), I was very much into music and...other things...that told tales of death and evil and drugs and sex...and I loved it. Let me explain. The anger that I heard in my favorite bands' voices, the lust, and the STRENGTH- made ME feel empowered. What I wore began to change, how I spoke, the activities that I did...everything changed as my view on life changed. In my late teens, early twenties, I was more concerned with having fun in my own ways to even think about God. I labeled myself as "Agnostic" and didn't get much deeper in explanation.
When I began to talk about marriage, my one stipulation was to have a nondenominational service. I wanted the union to be based on LOVE, not religion. When I did get married, it was in a court house. Not my first choice, but it served for the time being. And then I began having kids. I was so lost as a human being after Aiden, and while pregnant with Jaxon. In the middle of a very trying time in my life, my husband and I started going to a counselor, who also went to a church that he highly recommended. Having really no where else to turn, I agreed to go. When I entered the church, I was extremely uncomfortable. I put up a wall and I felt like everyone knew what I was. These people were my enemies. They didn't want me there. It was a halfhearted attempt, in my part.
After going a couple times, I began to become a little more comfortable, but I could never go on my own. I never prayed. I never read the Bible. I just....went. After I had Jaxon, the turmoil in my life came to a head. With everything going on, I stopped going to church. And I put it out of my mind, until about 6 months ago.
We decided as a family to give church another shot. I was pregnant with the twins and the older boys had been asking about God, after attending a Catholic daycare. The church we had attended in the past, New Life Assembly, had fantastic opportunities for kids, so we started going again. Shortly after attending a few times, I had the twins. In the hospital, one of the pastors came to visit me. In every other situation, his visit would have made me uncomfortable. But, I was alone when he came, and he brought with him a sense of comfort. I enjoyed talking to him. He prayed for me and the twins while he was there, and instead of feeling awkward, I felt grateful.
We started attending every Sunday, and had the twins introduced to the church once they were out of the hospital. I started to notice that not only was my opinion on the people going to church changing, I started to look forward to going. I still didn't pray. But, I had read some of the Bible and I enjoyed learning about it. I really liked listening to the church's new(ish) pastor, Pastor Jeff Baker. He was younger than most of the pastors I had seen and I felt like I could relate more to him. Some people started to recognize us at the church and always greeted us. Our names were now showing up under the regular attending name tag board. I was asked to help in the nursery, and enjoyed that. I volunteered to do it again. I felt GOOD after church. Happy.
Two weeks ago, something happened that I have never experienced in my life. We attended like normal. We sat through Pastor Jeff's sermon (a message about Praise and Prayer) and stayed for some of the worship songs afterward, as was normal. However, during the first song, I started to feel really strange. I started to get kind of lightheaded (which I attributed to not eating breakfast yet) but then I started to get chills. I've had chills before, obviously, but nothing like this. It was like jolts of electricity running down my arms and into my finger tips. Goosebumps hit my skin like crazy and my heart was racing. All of the sudden, I wanted to cry. Like...bawl. For no reason. And this wasn't even the weirdest part. I kept glancing at a man across the sanctuary. I did not know who he was. My eyes were just drawn to him, continuously. He was crying and had his arms lifted up while praising God. I had an overwhelming urge to hug him, as strange as that sounds. I literally wanted to leap over the pew and run to him. He started to move, and I saw him walk towards the exit. In my head I heard a loud voice say "NO." and I was adamant that this man must stay in the sanctuary. I continued to watch him as he turned away from the exit, and took the stage. This man, whom I previously did not recognize...was Pastor Jeff. I have no explanation as to why, in that moment, I did not recognize a man that I seen dozens of times before. I have no explanation why I wanted to wrap my arms around someone I believed to be a stranger. And I have no explanation why, when he took the stage it was like a veil had been lifted and I saw him clearly. He took the stage once more to pray, and I felt everything inside me liquefy and go heavy. Every part of my flesh of my front seemed pulled forward, until I was closing my eyes and praying with him. And I was praying HARD. Something I've never ever done before. When I left the sanctuary, my eyes were huge and my whole body was shaking. My arms, my legs...everything. My husband was asking me what was wrong, and I told him that I was fine...nothing was wrong...but that something had happened. I did not want to tell him right away though because it felt so....personal. It felt so intimate and strong that I wanted to keep it with ME. Eventually, though, I did tell him. And I've told a lot of my friends. And now, I'm sharing my story with you.
That was two Sundays ago. Last Sunday, I went to church wondering if that would happen again. It did not. I felt a slight tingle during the worship songs, but nothing close to what I felt before. I had a very strong desire to speak with Pastor Jeff about what I experienced, and last Thursday afternoon, that is exactly what I did. It was a good talk. I told him this whole story and listened to what he had to say. He recommended some groups for me when I expressed interest in learning more and growing in my faith. I also brought up an idea that I had about photography in the church, and he said he would point me in the right direction. As I left the meeting, right as I was about to walk outside, I passed a room where someone was practicing on the guitar. It sounded like one of the worship songs that I had had an experience during. And I felt peaceful.
(Quick sidenote- I am writing this entry as my boys are running around playing. My three year old- who, as far as I know, cannot read yet, was cuddling up to my right side and watching me type. He was muttering something incoherent, as he often does. But then he looked up at me and said "Momma, Jesus, God, Elijah." I looked down at him and said "What?? What about Jesus, God and Elijah??" And he pointed at my screen and said "God." I said "Where do you see God, baby?" He pointed at the screen again and said "All over it." So....take that how you will.)
I'll leave you with some final thoughts. I'm still very much at a crossroads with my faith. I no longer thing of things like this as coincidence. The sermons, how they line up with and have something to do with my life every single time. The strange happenings, how things get bad but somehow they always work out....how my three year old son knew I was writing about God when I never told him...they cannot all be coincidental. I look forward to becoming more active in our church. I look forward to learning, and growing more. The most important thing about all of this is that above all else, I want to be a better person. A better mother, friend, and daughter, but most of all a better human being. While there are still things I struggle with- like things I support that may be frowned upon, things I say, music I listen to (Where does all of this fit in on my journey??), I look forward to being someone my family, friends, and my church can be proud of.
Thanks for reading...I know I will be keeping you updated through this.
Always,
Jessica