Remember when weekends were relaxed and leisurely? Sleeping in, quiet breakfasts at quaint little crepe houses or drinking tea while reading a good book?
Yeah, me neither.
This morning I decided to make some pancakes for the crew (and vegan! Who knew it was possible?). I mixed up the wet ingredients, and the dry, but before I could mix the two together, my little budding chef managed to dump 24 oz of honey into the mix in the time it took me to wash my hands.
Sigh.
I managed to salvage everything, and they were really quite delicious.
But still.
Not that I should be surprised. This IS the same toddler who enacted various torture techniques on me and the boy this morning.
It’s an adventure, this parenthood thing. An exhausting, amusing, and exceedingly blessed adventure.
With that, we’re off to start our day. Spending some time on the farm, working in the yard, and I might even get to slip away to the Fabric Fair. Happy weekend, y’all!
My amazingly awesome friend Lilli spoke 4 words of truth to me last week + I can’t get them out of my head: you’re cannibalizing your blog.
She was talking about Facebook + how I use my status updates as a writing outlet. I love to write. Most of the time, I think what I write is fairly entertaining.
But here’s the thing:
There is not a single, solitary cell in my entire body thatbelievesanyone really cares what I have to say.
So I tend to not write. I tend to hide away, trying not to annoy anyone by talking too much (that’s another topic altogether). Doubt + self-consciousness + embarrassment + well, doubt mostly…they overwhelm me + I check out. For this reason, I have a tremendous problem with consistency on this blog.
But there’s this other thing. I can’t not write. I can’t not talk. It’s just who God created me to be, + I’m fairly certain He desires for me to not shy away from the me He created.
So who knows if I’ll be able to maintain anything consistent. My kids don’t seem to particularly enjoy letting me have any me time. But I do know that I’m going to write anyway. Even if it’s only a couple sentences. And I hope you’ll enjoy the journey, even if it’s a little different than what you originally signed up for.
I just have to share this adorable little bunny rabbit softie that I whipped up for my girl recently. The pattern is amazing. I found it at The Mary Frances Project and couldn’t be more pleased with the directions..and the results!
My amazing mom bought me a new sewing machine. Because she rocks. My old one was a wreck, tangling up my threads, etc. I was missing pieces of it, and it could only do two stitches and one speed. My new little dreamer, while still a modest, entry-level machine, has all sorts of lovely bells and whistles.
My favorite? I can control the speed! That was really super helpful in navigating all the curves and puffy bunny appendages. Also helpful since I can’t sew a straight line on my own.
Anyway, I wanted to throw a quick post out there to encourage you all to go download and enjoy the pattern, making your own softies in time for Easter. This little guy is going into my girl’s Easter basket. And the Easter basket itself? That’s this weekend’s sewing project. { squee! }
yeah, excuse my nasty dirty floor + the boring, unpainted wall
I recently had a chance to share our family’s story of how God orchestrated to keep us in Pittsburgh instead of us moving to Maryland, and how He cleared the way for Sean to become a stay-at-home dad. I pray it encourages you!
They tell you it will. All of them. They all say it.
They are not lying.
We have two kids now. Two. One is 2 1/2 years and one is almost 3 month old. Is that crazy? When did this happen? And somehow, I’m actually NOT completely freaked out by adding to our brood.
me + shorties
Never mind i’ll be {gasp} FORTY in like 3 1/2 years. The way I see it, I have 2 1/2 years to enjoy this beautiful chaos and then we can decide if we want to dive back into newborn land. We’re pretty chill about it, actually.
Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t make the hubs get the big snip-snip last year when we hit our insurance out-of-pocket maximum.
Anyhoo, so we’ve had some pretty remarkable changes happening. Sean, who had been at his job for 10 years, QUIT and became the world’s most rockin’ stay-at-home dad. Seriously, you can not even {in your wildest of wild dreams} imagine how perfectly suited this man is for the task of home management and cat-herding child raising.
Example: We’ve lived in this house more than 5 years with not even the remotest semblance of organization or order. Within ONE MONTH
one month, people!
he had the entire house organized, systems for everything, laundry caught up, dishes always done, diapers washed and folded every other day, house always cleaned, etc.
mind. blown.
And not to be bored now that he has effectively done away with my need for a housekeeper (thanks, babe), he’s moved onto the task of pacifier elimination and potty training. He has the girl child cleaning up her messes, limiting screen time, and the best part?
I get to see my beautiful girl’s smile every day WITHOUT A PACIFIER!
she's pretty super
So yeah, he pretty much rocks. I mean, we have no money. Like less than none. But life is beautiful.
Now that life has finally started to look more like the “after” picture instead of the “before” one, I get to do all sorts of fun things. Life sewing and cooking and PLAYING WITH MY CHILDREN! It’s been a very good thing.
We started a clean eating pact in the house and our health is improving more and more every day (more on that in another post). Since Sean’s not working outside the house anymore, we enjoy family and fun-filled weekends together.
I barely recognize us, actually. We’re…refreshed.
see how refreshed he looks?
I feel like there’s so much more to update you on, but that’s enough, right? The iToddler has been providing a ton of wonderful laughs and funny stories, which are soon to come your way too, so stay tuned.
Our family has been on quite a ride for the past nine months, as I was busy growing our little baby boy in mah belly. It was an eventful and complicated pregnancy, chock full of calls to the midwives, trips to the hospital and sleepless nights. He was due to arrive on Christmas Day, but after too much adventure in the womb, he decided to take one more complicated bow and come 3 1/2 weeks early.
That, in and of itself, is another post for another time.
But take a look at this gorgeous kiddo. Can you stand the cuteness?
yeah, it's kind of stupid, how adorable he is.
Despite the surprise-factor that has completely interrupted all of our baby and holiday prep, Sean and I have really been trying to maintain some normalcy for the iToddler, keeping to her regular schedule and really enjoying getting into the holiday spirit.
Well, we try.
Christmas cookie decorating...seemed like a magical idea at the time, until the 3-hour affair turned into about 6 distinct sugar highs and subsequent crashes. Mayhem. And Sean just kept skipping around the house during her meltdowns, singing "it's so magical! it's SO magical!!!" smart@$$.
Oh, and the day we decided to make dozens upon dozens of cookies…also turns out to be Jesus’ birthday party at her weekday club…complete with singing (or SOBBING, in my child’s case…sugar crash).
And cake and ice cream.
She's STILL detoxing.
Anyway, tonight we thought it might be fun to take the kiddos to see Santa at the mall, and then to a local light display (which the iToddler has been to twice and LOVES).
Despite the fact that Sean and I had decided to not do the Santa thing with our kids, Mickey Mouse decided to introduce the iToddler to Santa in a seemingly innocuous episode. The title was something about trains. It was 60 minutes long, and so our favorite episode. And Santa sneaks in toward the end.
Sneaky little turds.
So now she recognizes (and loves) Santa. So we figured since we can’t explain anything to her until next year (she’s too young to really get it this year), we’d just embrace it this year. From a distance, Santa is pretty cool. In pictures and coloring books, magical. But in real life, up close?
Terrifying.
Stranger danger! Stranger danger!
Since Santa was a bust, we erased her memory with some dinner and then headed out to our local light display. At this point, it’s been about two hours since I’d nursed the baby, and every thought or sight of him triggered letdown.
I was aching.
And the light display takes about 30-45 minutes to drive through, with no way out once you’re in.
deep breath, we’ll all survive. he’s asleep. maybe he’ll stay that way.
We pulled into the park and got in line. Cue the baby crying. Cue the tingling boobs. Cue the wet spots on the dress.
sigh. we’ll be fine. it’s only temporary and we’re making memories! making MEMORIESSSS!
Once you’re in the park, you turn your radio to a certain station and it plays background Christmas music. It’s a nice little detail and really adds to the whole experience. So we turned on the radio to drown out the baby’s cries, and set forth to enjoy the lights. First thing out of the iToddler’s mouth was “I hear singing! Helllooooo yights! Helllloooo baby Jeeesusss!”
It was remarkably sweet.
The first song wrapped up when we were well into the park, watching thousands…millions of lights twinkling in different displays. It’s gorgeous. The baby had stopped crying for a moment and my girl was completely beside herself in wide-eyed wonder. Sean held her tightly as she oohed and ahhed through the window at flickering snowflakes and ringing bells.
Then the second song started. It was some sort of Christmas version of Pachelbel’s Canon in D. Now I should say, there are two things that are guaranteed to make me cry every time. Okay, that’s a lie. Most things have the capacity to make me cry. But two of them are Pachelbel’s Canon in D and kids singing.
And this stupid song has both.
SN: love me for embedding this because 3 notes into previewing this video I was already bawling and Sean’s was cracking up laughing at me.
So I’m driving through the woods in a park with my girl cuddling up with her dad (which of course is absolutely beautiful to watch), my eyes filled with tears as this song is playing and I’m thinking “wow, am I one lucky girl”, and then the baby starts to cry again.
And my boobs start to tingle and the milk comes down and he’s crying and the iToddler is tapping me saying “mommy, baby needs nuh-nuhs. baby is SAD and you need to give him nuh-nuhs” and Sean is laughing at me because I’m crying and the baby is crying and the lights are magical and my dress has two wet spots in pretty conspicuous spots and the kids are singing to Pachelbel’s stupid Canon and
THIS IS MAGICAL CHRISTMAS INSANITY, DAMMIT!
sigh. deep breaths.
And there are still like 3.25 of the 3.5 miles to go.
About 15 minutes later, my girl was leaning out the window, singing “Happy birthday, Jesus”. Thank the Lord Pachelbel’s Canon wasn’t playing, because I was so. on. the. edge. Despite all our failings and chaos, we’re doing something right since our two year-old gets what Christmas is all about.
The rest of the display was pretty uneventful, but at the end there was this arch where lighted presents fly from one side of the street to the other and my girl says, “Daddy, Mommy, there go presents! Presents for Jesus’ birthday.”
God love that little girl.
And then that damn song starts playing again. And the baby starts to cry again.
And.
Ugh.
I’m not even kidding.
And I wouldn’t trade that half hour (or the next 20 minutes we spent sitting in the dark parking lot of a random quilting supply store as I nursed my starving newborn) for all the perfect, uneventful moments of Christmas magic in the world.
I’m pretty well convinced that as my belly grows, so do my hormones and my capacity for immense amounts of Sobby McWeepsalot impressions. And it really doesn’t take much.
Seriously.
On Halloween day, the Today Show hosts all dressed up as members of Britain’s royal family at the big wedding…and I cried when the fake bride got out of the fake limousine for the fake wedding.
Pathetic.
I have countless stories of the funny things that made me cry when I was pregnant with the iToddler. Ridiculous things. I’m not talking Sarah McLaughlin and her “I’ll-ruin-this-song-forever-for-you-by-letting-the-ASPCA-use-it-to-show-shelter-animals-on-their-way-to-the-Ranbow-Bridge”. Not even Extreme Home Makeover (and for the record, I can’t make it through a commercial, much less a whole episode).
No, we’re talking about episodes of Dirty Jobs. Key changes in a Taylor Swift song. An episode of My Sweet 16 where Timbaland’s son gets a Lamborghini.
Dumb.
But now and then something reminds me of real life. Tonight, I saw a picture of a friend and her very very new baby (like just hours old, if that) and was immediately thrown back to when the iToddler was in my arms for the first time. The wonder, the fear, the thankfulness, all the emotions just came rushing back. We were standing in the kitchen at the time, and my girl said “Mommy, I like music! Can we dance?” So I turned on Spotify and hit shuffle, and this song came on.
She reached up for me to pick her up, and despite all my pelvis pain, I obliged and we danced. She smashed her cheek into mine and we danced as she sang along to “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” and rubbed my shoulder. I didn’t even try to wipe away the tears. Then she put a tiny hand on either side of my face and looked me straight in the eye and kept singing as we danced slowly in the kitchen.
God, I love this girl.
We went upstairs to lay her down for the night and I suddenly remembered that this is the last night she’ll be in her crib. Sean and I had decided earlier this week to move her over to her big girl room after a weekend of getting it ready enough for occupancy (still so much work to do).
So this is it, I thought. This is the last time I’ll lay her in this crib. Ever.
I sat her on the crib railing for support and held her tight. She held me tightly, too. I rubbed her back in circles and felt her tiny hand do the same to me. I whispered, “I love you, baby” in her ear and she looked at me and said, “I love you, Mommy. I go to sleep now.”
End scene.
Why is this so emotional? It’s a crib, for crying out loud. But after 2 years, we’re going from a world filled with nothing but firsts, to one speckled with increasing numbers of lasts. Last nursing session, last time she refers to Mickey Mouse as Mimi, last time I lay her down in that room, in that crib.
Maybe it’s hormones. Maybe it’s lack of sleep catching up with me. Maybe it’s just…motherhood.
Whatever it is, I’m okay with it. Just don’t judge me when I wake up Friday morning in that big girl bed with her because I just wasn’t quite ready to let go.
I decided to take a little social media break recently and so I deactivated my Facebook page. What I didn’t realize when I did that, was how essential it is to me to be able to write about motherhood and life and my funny little observations along the way. I guess there’s a part of me that truly is a writer…or at least a storyteller.
Anyway, as I enter my 9th month of pregnancy with baby BAM, I have so many thoughts. First of all,
I
Am
Huge
and I still have two months to go. don't believe the hype. it's TEN months, not nine.
Second, for all the hassle this pregnancy has been, this little guy sure does look like a keeper, don’t he?
hiya, BAM!
And third, but most definitely not least, my girl rocks. She is the funniest thing on the planet, hands-down.
Today, while I was working from home, I could hear her and Sean chatting through the ductwork. He was trying to convince her I was at work (she didn’t know I was in the house because I stay WELL-hidden when I work from home), but she was insisting…
We’re on vacation this week, visiting my parents and my mom thought maybe we could try the iToddler in a big girl bed. Even though she’s fine in a crib at home, she’s just too big for the pack-n-play she usually sleeps in here.
Getting her into the bed wasn’t too traumatic, and she slept for about 7 hours with no problem. By 3, she was up and in my bed with Sean and me.
Problem was, there’s not really room for three of us, so around 4, I convinced her to go back to her toddler bed.
With her 5 1/2 month preggers mama.
Any advice from the masses on how to have a smooth(er) transition? We’re pretty clueless…
