Sweet frigging Saturday

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

I am definitely feeling the wave of calmness today, thank GOD. We took it really slow this morning. It was so nice to not have to have a full agenda. I let the girls play games on their tablets for an extra hour and then decided to surprise them with some baking. They lovvvve to bake. It's a dash of elbowing each other out of the way, sprinkled with, "it's my turrrrrrrrn" followed by a generous cup of my stern voice barking the rules of the kitchen. The pictures I sometimes take suggest otherwise but I know the real story. Who's had the mixer for too long, why did SHE get to put in the vanilla?! Of course all the while I'm monitoring for any licking of fingers - those offenders are sent to the sink for the eighth time. All in all I do enjoy it. We'll have these memories forever... Sinatra in the background, their little ice cream aprons. Pretty sweet. 

I had some time to myself while they were actually playing together nicely. I used it to tie up a few loose ends and then got in some good guitar practice. Currently working on power chords and finger picking. Not together of course. I'm also putting together different chord progressions to start writing some songs which I am really looking forward to. I love having different creative outlets like writing, graphic design and music. I try to fit at least one of those in each day but it's always great when I can get to all three! 

The girls played outside most of the afternoon and I am happy to report there was only ONE tattle-tale incident! Normally I hear that sliding door open and a voice yell, "She just pushed me out of the playhouuuuuuuse!" or "I was using a stick and she took it and threw it at meeeeeeeee!" And I'm purposely dragging out those words so you can HEAR the singsongy voice that they use to yell these tales. Some days only a minute or two passes before that door slides open once again. And those are the days where I lose my shit. They are ordered inside to sweep the dirt that came out from under their shoes and they are sent upstairs to learn how to play together without fighting. Ahhh, memories of my own childhood. 

But today was a good day! I thought I should share that with you because we've had a lot of not so good days lately. Collectively. I'm hoping that you found some peace today too. That your slider didn't burst open over and over ruining your groove. I'm savoring this weekend like none other... and we still have TOMORROW!!! 

Cheers! 
xo 

It's our mess

Alright. So maybe we aren't quite 'in the groove' yet. I think we are more like, "HEY, today was a pretty good day compared to the last 712." Although it's only been what? 4 weeks? How is that even possible?? 

Today felt hectic. It just felt messy and hard to manage. I lost control almost immediately after breakfast and never really regained it. 

Daisy didn't feel like doing her school work and to be honest she only attends three days a week so I should really keep that in mind. I tend to forget that now that we are doing it all at home. 

Scarlett has trouble sitting still and focusing at home. Too many distractions here. She gets caught up in commenting on EVERY SINGLE POST in google classroom and she's learned how to email her teachers with questions now so that takes up about 97% of her time. (Sorry, teachers). 

I start the day by reading any emails and all instructions from teachers, making sure I know what is expected of both girls. I save all files and out print everything - anyone else going through ink and paper faster than that 1-ply toilet paper you were lucky to score at Family Dollar? I can't be the only one. I let Scarlett choose the order in which she does her assignments but I'll be honest, if it's nice outside I toss the two of them out each morning. Fresh air and exercise!

I almost always miss information or forget about a class Zoom meeting. And when we do get on them we get kicked off at least twice. And I have no tolerance for that stuff. These virtual meetings are killing me slowly, a little more each day. We currently have about 8 or 9 weekly. 

In other news, I am very lenient with P.E. assignments because I figure if they are outside running around for 2 hours that is a pretty good substitute. I hand out snacks roughly every twenty nine seconds - flying through Goldfish and Craisins, yogurt and nonsense fruit twist things. I check in with Scarlett every so often to see what she has left to work on I crack the whip a bit. Daisy will usually do one or two dittos and then we play with Magna Tiles or her favorite game - Petco. Yes. She asks me to play Petco with her everyday. I am the customer looking for whichever animal she chooses to be at the time. A bunny. A ferret. An orange kitten with gray ears and purple spots. You get the idea. She cozies up under a blanket on the floor and makes squeaky animal noises. I ask if she is for sale and then scoop her up and take her home with me. Game doesn't end there. It repeats. Over and over again. For eleven straight hours. And yes, I know I will absolutely miss this one day. 

That's what we need to keep in mind right now, I think. We will all miss these days ONE DAY. Maybe not in the near future because we are all just about burned completely out. But maybe ten years from now. We will inevitabley see an old picture of them and wish to see them that way again. I will be begging a 15 year old girl to lay on the floor and pretend she's a green guinea pig and she will probably tell me to cut the shit and get lost. 

If we are lucky enough to be home with our family right now then we truly have it all. It's a proper mess, no doubt, but it's our mess... and it WILL be a memory one day. If you can pause for a moment and take a breath, remember to count your blessings. 

Keep on keepin' on! 
xo 

The groove

Hello again. How are you feeling on this gloomy Monday? We've just been told about the schools being closed through April, but we pretty much knew that was coming. We are doing ok over here. The girls' school work is becoming a bit easier to sort and maintain. We've designated certain areas for work to be done, finished work and a place for all of the daily school supplies needed. They both seem to have accepted that this is how things are for now. We are all doing our best to make everything feel as normal as possible. Abnormally normal. Counting our blessings every day! 

It was a pretty good weekend here. Very productive yet restful and quiet. We listened to the new Pearl Jam album which I like a lot, made a nice  Italian meal and got outside a bit. Capped it all off with a pretty decent thunderstorm last night that had Rummy (our cat) and Scarlett on edge. She tried to play it cool like the thunder was "distracting her" from her nightly reading but I got her number. I also started watching Castle Rock which I was sucked into from the start. I lovvvve Stephen King and I feel like I've been waiting for something like this since I was ten. Looking forward to ending each night with an eerie little episode or two. Check it out if you haven't already and are into that sort of thing.

Oh, wonderful! Daisy just broke up the day by renting two My Little Pony movies from the Fire Stick. Thanks, Dais! I felt like pissing away $10 and fooling with the parental control settings this afternoon. Worth noting: there are at least seventeen thousand other My Little Pony movies that she could've viewed for zip. Upside? She's actually watching the movie and being still.

I guess I'll end here for today. I hope you are all adjusting and finding this week to be less stressful and a little more easy going. Keep a positive attitude, look for the silver linings, hug a care bear or whatever. Just don't let it get you way down. It's not forever! 

xo 

Hello again!

Hi friends!

I just blew the dust off of this old blog! It's been a WHILE... and to be honest, I've been sitting here for over 20 minutes trying to figure out how to change up the formatting a bit and I've had zero success. Haha. Blogger has changed quite a bit since my last go. Also I've forgotten how some of these things work in my older age. SO, until I feel like renovating the entire thing we will just continue in the old familiar. You all couldn't care less about a font choice anyway, right? (Why is it so small?? Ohhhhh, because my eyesight has also changed quite a bit since my last go).

So... WHAT'S NEW??

You can feel my smirk I'll bet.

Ugh. I'm assuming the lot of you are reading this from the comfort of your home. You know, what with the Global Pandemic and such. I hope you are all faring well during these insane times. We are holding it down over here. Gregg is still working at this time and I am home with the two young'ns. They are both missing school much more than I would've ever thought! Scarlett received school work all week long and I made sure that Daisy had a few daily worksheets to keep her from feeling left out. She is getting her REAL school work tomorrow. And so we begin our new temporary normal.

I give so much credit to all of our amazing teachers who, in a pinch, figured out how to make virtual learning readily and easily available to all. Well done! I also want to thank every single healthcare worker, grocery/retail/restaurant worker, first responder and anyone who isn't sitting in a recliner right now due to playing a necessary part in keeping our world moving. Forever grateful.

All that being said... I'm feeling a little strange these days. Can't fully explain it. Not scared. Not really sad, although the thought of missing some special events and days - like my father's upcoming 70th birthday, Easter dinner with the family and Scarlett's first communion have me a bit deflated. Last week was an ANXIOUS time. I read way too many articles about Covid-19 (so I could sift through them all and figure out what I believe to be the real deal) and was setting up online schoolwork for Scarlett, trying to make the girls' days feel somewhat normal while passing out snacks every thirteen seconds and coming up with new crafts and new couch forts. I marveled over the fact that toilet paper was sold out across the country because some people are straight insane. I worried about limited trips to the grocery store and all of these small businesses that will have no choice but to close their doors. I was suddenly thrust into a world of Zoom lessons and Face Time sessions. All of which make me incredibly uncomfortable. I realize these are great options to keep socialization going... but I also realize my level of social participation has declined some over the years! These new orders asking the public to stay home made it crystal clear to me that I am very, very, very good at being home. I spent fifteen straight years spending the least amount of time at home as humanly possible - only to have children and realize home is the bees knees. Don't get me wrong, I do love sitting around a table with friends and a couple of drinks, listening to music and laughing for hours. But those nights are few and far between and I actually LIKE it that way. I think it makes me appreciate those times even more! I find myself often making plans and then when the day comes I almost DREAD it. That sounds so awful, I know. I guess I've become a true introvert. Or maybe I've always been an introvert but didn't realize it due to the amount of alcohol I consumed in my younger years. Who's to say? Nowadays, I'm a gal who enjoys her leggings and beat up "house hoodies," ambient light and The Golden Girls on the screen. That is how I unwind at the end of the day. Not quite a hermit yet... but a lot closer to an 80 year old than I would've guessed I'd be at this point. I do fill a lot of my time with independent, yet enriching activities. Graphic design, creative writing and playing guitar. It's this trio that has transformed my life and given me such a satisfied soul. You know when you feel like something is missing? I found what was missing. And I now do those things as much as possible.

One last thing I would like to share...

I MIGHT loathe You Tube toy videos even more than a tuna sandwich. And man do I hate tuna. WHO STARTED THESE VIDEOS!?!?!?!! The voice that I hear coming out of that television right now??? Stop. Just STOP IT. Why do my children want to WATCH some kooky-ass lady, who probably has an Apple Brown Betty burning in the oven, unwrap and play with little figures and playsets!?!?!?! It is maddening!!!!

Anyway, I hope you all find things that satisfy your soul in these uncertain times...

Stay well, friends!
xo

Ahhhhh, summertime once again...

And so it begins.

The long, bright days filled with popsicles and playgrounds, swimsuits and sleepovers, cookouts and camp-outs. Yeah, no, we only do about 1/3 of those things. And I'm actually terrible at math so that figure is probably generous. Or stingy. Whichever.

Summertime is, of course, when the majority of people pack up the ol' Subaru and head to the shore for an eight hour day of family fun memory making. I imagine these people tossing a beach ball or frisbee, eating watermelon wedges, gleefully splashing each other in the waves and laughing the day away. They might stop for ice cream or a quick dinner at the clam shack on the ride home and after showers they pile into a big bed for a movie night complete with popcorn and junior mints. Sounds dreamy.

We do it slightly different over here. First off, if I am even toying with the idea of a beach day I keep that thought to myself for at least three days. That way I can spend a very fair chunk of my time agonizing over every single detail of how this plan could all go down. Do the girls' bathing suits fit properly? Do we need coverups? Does anyone even wear coverups anymore? Can Daisy handle flip flops in the sand? Maybe she should wear water shoes. Yeah, idiot, that's what you bought them for, isn't it? Should we bring the big cooler? I don't even know where their sand toys are. Time to start stalking the beach forecast and tide chart and what about the seaweed factor. Do the beaches have those little bugs like last year? Vomit. What will we bring to eat? Scarlett only eats PB&J so that's just gonna attract all the bees. We need a new umbrella. Am I wearing a bathing suit this year or should I go with my Dickie's jumpsuit? 
And so on.

This goes on pretty much right up until we've got the car packed. The girls, just giddy with excitement, have forgotten how LONG they perceive the ride to be. We will all be reminded of that in a short while. Someone will have to pee on the ride down. I will, for sure due to the previously guzzled six cups of coffee, but I'll keep it to myself until we get there. The bathroom is always a fun treat. Daisy touches every single disgusting surface possible and somehow always manages to put her bare ass on each restroom floor that we encounter. Scarlett remains horrified by hand driers so she just bolts the second she shuts the faucet - regardless of who is indisposed. I'm still slightly sketched out by the giant hole toilet but that's a story for another day.

We manage to make our way to the sand - Gregg doing the majority of the lugging but my shoulders are heavy with bags. I always picture John Candy in Summer Rental as we are navigating that beach. Clumsily maneuvering our way around colored sheets and sandcastles. No matter how early we leave the house we are always disappointed by the number of beachgoers who've scored the best spots. Because I've done my homework I know what that tide is up to so we choose an appropriate place to plop. Umbrella in. Blankets down. Chairs positioned. We did it!

Now, the amazingly peaceful and glorious beach days of my youth are so far in that rearview mirror I can hardly smell the Coppertone anymore. When you bring two little girls to the beach you're not sitting in that little sand chair. Not for ten seconds. Surprisingly BOTH girls love to be in the water. They really don't agree on anything so this is pretty amazing. Neither know how to swim so they require an adult at all times. I do remember that as a kid, you couldn't get me out of that water. The "wait thirty minutes after you eat" rule was such torture. I would swim and flip and play in those waves for hours at a time. LOVED the ocean. Now? I'd rather not go thigh deep. The idea of creatures in the sand, pinching and squirming. Nasty seaweed. The possibility of those gross bugs that cling to your skin. And now that we know that the shark population is growing in these parts (YAY!) I'll just enjoy those headlines from my living room chair. I love me a shark but would lose my shit if I saw a fin within a mile of my sea-covered shins. Clutching the hand of a daughter I wade uncomfortably trying not to let on that I'd rather be back at the blanket. Thank God they're still small so we can't go any deeper. The squeals of joy from the girls are hands down the best part of the day. Well, that and the grapes. I'm always so glad I remember to bring grapes. We let the girls splash and play for a bit then try to coax them into making sandcastles so we could possibly sit for a few minutes. That only lasts a minute or two before they realized they've been duped and the water is where its at. Drat.

We spend a few hours that way. Splashing, snacking, swatting horseflies, hitting the restroom etc. Daisy is usually the one to crack first. She starts to let us know in some super fun ways that she is done for the day and we start the joyous task of packing it alllll back up. Why do we even take sand toys? They literally only used one bucket and one cup. Remember this for next year. The chairs are harder to close up, the umbrella doesn't fit back into the cart, wet towels are heavier, sand has grown hotter. The walk back to the car is a real blast. My feet are burning!!! How far is the car?? This is a long walk!  Can we get Brickley's? Pleeeeeeease? I'm so hungryyyyyy. Repeated by the two little ones about seventy thousand times. We find the car, shake out our blankets and do our best to dust off the kids before locking and loading them. We ultimately drive to the Brickley's lot which we had planned to do all along but were soured on the idea after all of the "requests." The post ice-cream ride is far worse. Both girls reeeeeeally need a nap but refuse to close an eye. How come the sun is always on MY side??? I'm hottttttttt. I don't want to take a shower. Can we get Del's? Why are we stopped?? What are we having for dinner?  

Ahhhh. Home at last. Time to rela... wait, nope. Not yet! Let's first unpack alllll of the sand covered crap, let's clean out the cooler and toss that moist, disgusting trash, let's bathe the two crankiest children on the planet, let's start a load of laundry, let's finally get ourselves cleaned up. NOW it's time to rela... "I'm HUNGRY!!!!!!"
Son of a.

That's the 'beach day' we've had in past years. There was no frisbee tossing. Do people even do that anymore? Or is that from some random '80s Tom Cruise movie? There was no watermelon wedge. There certainly wasn't a movie night because our kids don't like to watch movies and because bedtime could not have come any sooner. Hey, we tried. We got the ice cream and we had some gleeful splashing. I'm not about to do the fractions on that but I guess it was pretty decent after all. Any day now the pleas for a beach day will ring throughout the house. I should probably dust off that bucket and cup.

xo

Despite our wiring...

I was at Scarlett's friend's birthday party today and, without Daisy there to keep me running and worrying, I was free to think about random nonsense for a little while. I stood, arms folded, just watching calmly. Scarlett was off bouncing with her friends and I was chatting with other parents who had a bit of freedom themselves. We started discussing how certain things in our lives have changed since having children. Mainly the stress level, the worry factor and the seemingly endless guilt. But also how we try so hard to teach our kids how to be wonderful people... despite their wiring. I know I'm still trying to be a wonderful person despite MY wiring. I'm as stubborn as they come, I hold grudges, I worry about ridiculous things and I over-think overthinking. It's just who I am, love it or leave it.

I will dissect a situation that is months away, study its pieces, agonize over the unchangeable, glue the pieces back into a ball of stress, occasionally chip tiny bits from it whilst trying to fall asleep one night only to inevitably arrive at said situation and have the most pleasantly carefree time ever. All unnecessary pre-worry. And when someone tells me, "Don't worry about it, you can't change it, it is what it is, leave it at that" it actually makes me defiantly-worry. Like I'm going to get some sort of satisfaction by showing you that I can worry and it'll be for a good reason. Complete loon.

As for the guilt thing, I don't know how it happened but shortly after Scarlett was born I just gained a new feeling. Aside from the C-section numbness in my gut I had this lovely pool of guilt that took up space in my brain... or is it in my heart? Tough to tell. I am forever questioning myself. Even with something as magical as Christmastime! I move that damned elf every night to see the awe and wonder in the eyes of my girls each morning and then feel that PIT of guilt because I'm being sneaky and "tricking" them. I felt guilty writing that sentence. It never ends! Guilt for not putting Scarlett in her dance class holiday showcase. Guilt for not letting her go to every birthday party she is invited to. Guilt for not taking her to ride her bike much. Guilt for sending cereal for most of her school lunches. Guilt for buying her the greek yogurt with added sugar. Guilt for not having many new things for Daisy and relying mostly on her big sister's hand-me-downs. Guilt for not having a big birthday party at our home for Daisy because it is in January unlike Scarlett's usual backyard bash in September. Guilt for putting Daisy down for a nap early sometimes because I just need a break. Guilt for not forcing the girls to eat more vegetables and serving lots of eggs and pancake dinners. BLAH!! I'm not having it. If only some  feelings had off switches.

I know I'm not really doing anything wrong. I know it's my wiring. I know I'm giving my one thousand percent every single day for these kids. I try as hard as I possibly can to mold the girls into caring, respectful, well-rounded, well-read people. I worry, I stress, I make pancakes. But I also spend time reading with them every single night. I draw and color with them at our table. I play silly games and make up crafts and answer as many questions as my brain will allow. I teach them about kindness and being grateful and about traditions. I discuss anti-bullying and inclusion on a regular basis. I tell them nobody is perfect and we can't help but to feel what we feel. I do my best. I hope for them to do their best. Despite our wiring our hearts are good. And we continue to walk our path...

The madhouse..

I'm currently listening to the sound of my washing machine swishing soapy water around the filthy straps that came out of the high chair just moments ago. I'm simultaneously pondering when the hell I will be able to put away that high chair for good. I mean Daisy is going to be THREE in January. If you try her in a booster seat with no belt she just flat out will not sit still. She gets up and down thirty-nine times while eating a grilled cheese sandwich. I gave it three days last month. Tried it out. She's the kid that just does not listen. I don't mean like, Ohhhh she's so stubborn she just likes to do things her way. I mean like SHE DOES NOT LISTEN. This kid is the definition of defiant. She has been raking her fingers over the television screen for a solid year now. She has been throwing her dish and cup across the table (or the room) when she's finished with every meal and wants the world to know it. She takes sips of milk or water and spits them out into her bowl and makes "potions." The word NO means absolutely nothing to her. She jumps off the couch. She goes near the stove. She touches everything you tell her not to touch because it's super hot and then announces, "that's hot." She constantly pulls away when you hold her hand and you end up hauling her thirty-five pound ass all over town. This child is adorable and sweet and thoughtful and truly caring but she is a MENACE.

I can't help but wonder how the ol' living room Christmas tree scenario is going to play out. "Daisy, don't touch the ornaments!" Crash. Smash. Glass. Tears. Blood.

The funny thing is that we thought LAST YEAR was something to worry about! She wasn't even two yet and while we still did plenty of guiding her away from things and giving her the low down on what's acceptable and what's non negotiable she's completely upped the anti this past year. Every so often Gregg and I will look at each other and say, "I cannot believe she is STILL doing this!"

You can imagine how fun it is when you throw Scarlett into the equation. "NO DAISY!!!!" is on repeat. Scarlett is a bit short in the patience department to begin with so we have a blast most days. I can honestly admit that during the hours of 5:30 pm and 7:00 pm we completely lose our minds, pray loudly for bedtime and come dangerously close to just walking out of this madhouse leaving them to fend for themselves. On a regular basis. It leaves me wondering what life is like in friends' houses. Do they go through the wild animal hours every night? Is everyone with children on the brink of insanity ninety percent of the time? Does your six year old scream at the top of her lungs that your youngest just threw up all over the place and is about to step in it so you go rushing up the stairs because your husband is in the bathroom and you find two tiny dots of puke that only came out because your little one got worked up after the six year old accidentally kicked her in the head? No? Just me? Eyeroll.

It's not very easy, is it? These wacky kids with their crazy ages and stages. It doesn't actually get any easier I hear, it just changes and we change. I've changed an alarming amount since having these two maniacs - definitely for the better - but I'm left wondering just how much more change do I have on the horizon? If this is 40... what will 50 bring?

Please tell me your children are wild ...

Okay, just tell me what I need to hear.
Tell me that your kids are absolute loons.
Tell me that nobody listens to you the first six times you tell them to do something.
Tell me that you still get called up every night an hour after bedtime for ridiculous things like, "I heard a noise that sounded like a car" or "I dropped my bookmark."
That they scream both gleefully and frighteningly for the majority of your day.
That you're never quite sure if someone has broken a bone or snatched a toy based on each scream.
Please tell me that your child wears a very hot and uncomfortable gown to bed even after the ninety-seventh time you've explained that it's the very reason why she's sweaty every night.
Tell me that she refuses to believe you but begs to have her hair put up, her fan turned higher and her cool mist humidifier blowing directly at her head.
Tell me that no matter what cup you give your two and a half year old they choose to drop it on the floor, stuff food into its straw and figure out how to shake water from it at every single meal time.
Tell me they also take mouthfuls of said water and spit it into their dish repeatedly.
That your almost six year old child has started stomping when she doesn't get her way. Stomping. Like that classic image of a spoiled brat we've all come to know and loathe.
That she's also started a new form of whining that is ten thousand percent unacceptable.
That you were certain your second child would potty train early and now you realize that she's been using the toilet seventy percent of the time for eight months with no further signs of readiness and that it's most likely your fault because you simply haven't put enough effort into it.
Tell me that watching your child play with others is sometimes excruciating.
That you constantly sit back and think, Didn't I teach her better than that?
That you always thought you could control all of those things when you became a parent one day. That you now realize you can't.
That you have vodka.

Seas can be a bit stormy sometimes. We go through intermittent swells of horror that dissipate into lulls of wonderfulness. The next time the little ones are pissing each other off I have to reach back in my memory for the image of what their faces looked like when they rode their favorite ride together at the fair last week. Because that minute was one of the best minutes I've ever experienced as a parent. Total joy. And joy is something we strive to find daily when really it should be the biggest part of our day every day.

So for all of the crazy, unpleasant moments that seem to multiply and sometimes never end - I wish you more joy-filled moments. Ones that you can brand into your memory to pull out when you are just a millisecond away from losing your shit. Again.

Summer ... how times have changed

August, huh? The summer days are just flying on by, aren't they? I can't say I'm sad about it. I'm not a big fan. My days of peaceful beach outings are gone. My solo trips to the Beavertail cliffs with a towel, iPod and water bottle are a distant memory. Now a day at the shore requires a full staff just to carry the gear and another to tackle the kids. I might sit down just long enough to get shit on by a seagull. MIGHT.

But I am enjoying certain elements of the summer. I keep reminding Scarlett of the importance of lazy mornings. Come September it's full time school for thirteen years. Oh, to think of the crusts I'll be cutting off. I've made my school supplies lists and plan to finish that sooner than later. I don't want to be throwing punches over an eight pack of crayons while someone rips the Ticonderogas out of my cart. I'm not one to shop in a crowd. Or to do much else in a crowd for that matter... I need my space. We went to Mystic Aquarium last week and I shuddered as I was touched by every elbow, diaper bag and plush squid. A Pearl Jam concert is pretty much the only acceptable crowd I'll be found in. I'll take a few drunkards scream-singing Rearviewmirror over a family of ten rushing the sting ray tank any day.

My kids are driving me frigging crazy though. I'm finally at that point where I "get it". The glee that moms feel when the initial back-to-school ads are shown in like July. The parents cheering as the first day of school arrives, shoving their kid down the front steps, chucking their lunch bag through the bus window. I never understood it before and always kinda felt like it was harsh but now having gone through a collection of days where I literally yell for what feels like sixty seven hours straight I get it. When I look back on the former me I can't remember yelling more than a handful of times in my life. Aside from fights with my parents as a rude, inconsiderate teen - I don't think I ever yelled. I mean, what the hell would I yell about? If the post office was out of Charlie Brown stamps and I got stuck with the holiday birds? If my neighbor was blasting his shit music in the driveway for hours? If I was stuck in traffic on a bridge for two hours on a Friday evening? Nope. Not yelling over any of that jazz. Now? I steady yell. In fact, I think my regular speaking voice is actually a half yell now. My eyebrows are now stuck in permanent stern-face position. I begin yelling before 7:30 am. It doesn't end until 9 pm some days. It's exhausting being continuously pissed off. There are glorious moments in between where the girls are getting along nicely and actually playing together without bloodshed or when Daisy finally takes a good nap. When Scarlett is helpful and doesn't fight me on every single thing I tell her to do. Those moments are fleeting though. And my boiling point is quickly reached over and over again. It always works best if I separate the girls. They can be excellent when unhindered. Scarlett is too used to getting things her own way and Daisy is just trying to be two. The mix can be devastating. I force them together as much as possible to try to crack the code but sometimes it's best if I just put them in solitary.

I look back on my summer vacations as a child and realize those were truly some of the best times of my life. Playing outside with friends from sunup to sundown. Eight hour days at the beach. Pool swimming followed by lazy cartoon-filled afternoons. Ahhhh... to be a kid again.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go rip a crocodile game out of my kid's hands.

Have I become a responsible adult?

The lines,
Settling all too comfily into their new habitat - my face.
Oh my God are my eyes actually getting SMALLER?
That's not even possible, is it?!
But in every picture...

I'll try this cream.
Hmm, should I have had a skin care routine in my thirties?
Does everyone?
Does anyone?

Apparently Aveeno isn't cutting it anymore.
I'm drying out like a reed diffuser that you forgot you bought like four years ago
and found it stuck up on a high shelf one day while reaching for the heating pad.
There is no WAY Jenifer Aniston swears by this stuff.
Not falling for it, Jen.

I see the grays. Actually, let's not bullshit ourselves, they're whites.
Not many of them, but they're calling friends lately,
they're having more parties.
Good for them. I never have parties anymore.
Who feels like it?! I clean the bathroom enough.
Too much pressure.
I used to put out a spread at parties.
Today, you come by, you're lucky to find a few pieces of cheddar.
And gluten free pretzels.
Rock star status.

Night life.
Ahhhh, I remember the all-nighters.
Home by 4 am was rare.
No matter the day of the week.
Never stayed home.
Now, when I have night time plans I actually look at my bed differently that morning.
I'll be late tonight, bed... but I'll return. And we'll make up for lost time tomorrow... and the next eight nights.
I spent some great times with my best girls these past two weeks and we were talking about how times have changed.
We used to go out drinking for hours on end, not a glass of water in sight - for DAYS. I drank lemonade and coffee as my non-alcoholic beverages at one point. Now we panic if we don't chase our gray goose with a bottle of Poland Spring. Gotta keep hydrated!

I used to loathe Everybody Loves Raymond. 
I think it made me feel like I was still young and hip.
(Let the record show that I was never hip)
Now I can't get enough of that frigging show. 

I used to wear heels all the time.
I'd be that idiot in the backyard with heels on - trying to get through the grass or gravel without landing on my nose.
Everrrrrrrrryone else in sneakers or flip flops having a blast.
Not me!
Can't let on that I'm 5'1" - This'll fool them! 
Nowadays I actually own "sensible shoes"
And a rain coat.
A RAIN COAT.
For a gal who lived in "just a hoodie" for all-weather, all four seasons in New England
a rain coat is pretty huge.
I have a real, live winter coat as well.
This news is a bit lackluster for you all but listen - I didn't even OWN a coat or jacket of any kind
for at least a thirteen or fourteen year stretch. No lie.

Am I really considered a responsible adult now?
Skin care, outerwear, pretzels. 
I mean, I am doing a pretty great job raising two little girls.
I RSVP to everything on time - or at least I think I do or intend to.
I sometimes read the AAA paper that comes in the mail,
that has to count for something.

Don't get me wrong, I still enjoy fun.
I've just become a bit less fun myself.
Becoming a mother has done that -
I'm fun on a kid level now.
Crayons and dress-up fun.
Not so much wandering the streets of Providence at 4 am with no ride home fun. 

In my opinion, I've traded up.

Now about that skin care ...

In the quicksand ...

Well, well, well. Here I sit. Back in a very familiar position, though the view has changed some.

The last time I wrote was exactly one month before Daisy was born. After her entrance I made an easy decision to press pause on my blogging. I don't know exactly why. Focus, probably. I felt like I needed every ounce of energy to balance spending quality time with Scarlett while being completely consumed by a newborn. I'm still trying to figure out my balancing act.

When Daisy came into our world we were elated, just the same as we were with Scarlett. Unsure of how the dynamic would change and how we would all adjust, we welcomed her home excitedly. From the day we learned we were having another girl I can't even tell you how happy my heart felt. TWO GIRLS. SISTERS! Sundresses and sandals. Pastel-colored bedrooms! Best friends forever. My mind was always busy with visions of twirling little silly-hearts cartwheeling their way through life together.

It's been very sweet but maybe slightly less poetic.

Most days I look like a dumb octopus cartoon. One "arm" washing dishes, one swiffering the endless dog hair tumbleweeds, one cutting off the crusts, one folding leggings, one paying bills - while another uses a calculator because I still detest numbers and math of any kind, one changing a diaper because I haven't quite figured out how to fully potty train my kid yet and that last one is either filling out paperwork, mailing out a greeting card, writing a shopping list or calling a company regarding something heinous. My mind is absolutely flooded with notes. I leap out of bed at all hours with a startling reminder that has to be written down at that very moment. My counter space which houses my calendar, notepads, mail and various to-do's is overflowing. Did I RSVP? Are we going to that party? Did I mail her birthday card? Bake sale. Fundraiser. When does the car need to be inspected? What time is Daisy's appointment? Summer dance card. Swimming lessons? Coupon expires tomorrow. Where the hell is my state tax refund?! School uniforms. It is never-ending. And I have two children. Some of you have three, four or five. To which I say, "HOW?!" I remain one of the most organized and efficient people that I know and I am sinking like a gummy vitamin in a glass of milk. Oh, Scarlett might be the only one that does that.

I'm not sure if it's a "turning forty" thing. Maybe it is. Maybe brain power is sucked away by each child that you carry and come forty the power that IS left is cut in half. I had an idea for a Mother's Day gift for my grandmother the other day and got all excited and was going to get it ready until I realized that Mother's Day was over a month ago. Not next week. And I've already forgotten the idea. I never have any clue what day of the week it is. Gregg's rotating schedule keeps it interesting. Most days go like this, "Oh hey, Sheri, how did you manage to get to Target without the kids this morning?" My reply, "Oh, Gregg usually has Tuesday mornings off." After an awkward look and pause, "Today is Friday." ............. Eyeroll.

It is what it is, though, right? I mean, who the hell can really balance it all? Who has everything in line, always? Maybe Scarlett's dance teacher. Yeah, she's impressive. She's superhuman. But aside from her I don't think I know anyone who doesn't feel like they are swimming in chaos. I always find myself saying, And I don't even WORK right now!  Like, I can't give myself a break because I don't technically clock in at a job each day. I look at working parents and admire the hell out of them. I can't get everything done and I'm home 75% of the time. How can it be done in less than half of that? On the other hand, I realize that I am with these children and this dog for eighty-nine hours a day. I get about twenty minutes to myself to chug my hot coffee at 6 am and then after the kids go to bed the night is finally mine ... I am asleep by 10:30 most nights. I'm actually cutting into that highly coveted time right this very second so let me go fill my burning eyes with drops, play Words With Friends, slug this last glass of water and maybe watch some Jaws.

Cheers to all who are in the quicksand with me! xoxo

age three is bullshit.

She's napping! She's napping!! She's napping!!!
(She hasn't napped in ages)

Oh thank God! If that child doesn't wake up with a more pleasant demeanor I probably won't make it to 8 pm.

She has been soooo difficult lately. I choose the word difficult because I don't want to call her names like "witchy" or "heinous". Yes, she turned three at the end of September. Yes, I've heard all about how age three is worse than two, (pretty much anytime I was venting about how tough she was at two. Thanks). But I mean, come ON. Everything is a fight! Every ridiculous teeny thing is a gigantic challenge. Right down to which stories we read at bedtime. I understand that she wants to control everything - as do I. I understand it's all about her growing and changing and developing her personality, blah blah blah. Just cut the shit already, kid! And speaking of shit - use the damned toilet will ya? As my ever-expanding pregnant stomach presses harder against the changing table, your flailing arms and legs punch and kick just as hard. You're too big for that table! It's meant for dainty little pea pods not thirty-five pound, thirty-nine inch long children. I can barely hoist you up there, it's getting out of hand. And your diapers don't come any larger and if they DID I couldn't carry a box that large. Any WHY are you awake already!!??!?!?!! 

Ugh. My joyous quiet time has ended. But first, a story before I go...

This morning I brought home some new pink cowboy boots for her. She immediately started to try them on. I saw her struggling so I let her know there is velcro that allows for easier access. She threw them across the room. She asked if they are rain boots. I replied that they are cowboy/girl boots. She said, "Humph, well IIIIIIIIIIII wanted rain boots." Umm, no. First off, Veruca, there was no mentioning of a new boot of any kind coming into this house today. I took it upon myself to purchase a product that I thought you would like as a kind surprise. You threw said product across the room. I gathered the friggin boots and put them away stating that I would give them to another girl who would love and be grateful for them. One hour later she put the boots on and paraded around in them happy as a clam.

And THAT, my friends, is age three... barely two weeks in.

"just one more and that's it"

Bedtime. It's been quite an evolution.

Naturally, when Scarlett was a baby getting her to bed was a piece of cake. Before the mattress was lowered I was able to gently rest her peaceful body in the crib without waking her. She had two or three plush friends to keep her company but her crib was for sleeping. Those were some short-lived nights.

As time moved forward the crib mattress was lowered. It finally became so low that instead of placing Scarlett carefully into softness I was basically dropping her down with a plop. I explained my challenges, apologized for my height and my T-Rex arms. She didn't seem to care either way. And one day soon it wouldn't matter how she was placed into that crib because she would rise immediately to jump and protest rest.

At present time there are fourteen stuffed friends in her crib. I know this because after placing four blankets on Scarlett (and describing each blankets' origin - i.e. "this is the one that Mama used to take to work" or "this one is from Auntie Kyndra and Gloria") I am to count the plushies as I toss each one in the crib while she makes the animal's sound and gives them a kiss. This comes after reading anywhere from four to eight books and singing up to ten songs. There is always the plead of, "just one more and that's it!" Be it a book or a song. And if I give in to that one there is always another request on deck. This happens every night at bedtime. She tries to incorporate this seemingly never-ending routine at 'nap' time (which, I should mention, is the time when Scarlett puts on a Broadway show rather than sleeps) but I pleasantly refuse. We still launch the blankets and animals but we skip the twenty-five minutes of books and songs. After all, I need to rest my voice for later.

About seventy percent of the time Scarlett still cries when I leave the room. She has been known to cry out, "sing Show Me The Way To Go Home and that's it!" as I'm descending the stairs. Or, "Mama, I need to sing 'funny Frosty'!" (Funny Frosty is a version of Frosty the Snowman where I change the words and she corrects me). I am convinced that she would hold me hostage until midnight if she could just figure out how.

God, I love her.

Scarlett's first emergency visit ...

Well, I guess very few parents escape the horrors of the emergency visit. We got ours out of the way on Wednesday night. Lucky and thankful that it wasn't very serious.

Scarlett is known for her rough and tumble ways, her defiance and her flailing. She twisted away from Gregg when she didn't feel like cleaning up the aftermath of a potted plant incident... and she hurt her arm. She was holding her wrist and crying in pain so she needed to be checked out.

The trip to the emergency walk-in center was a bit rough. Luckily, Gregg's mom was able to take care of Scarlett and keep her as comfortable as possible while Gregg filled out all of the paperwork. I met them there and when I arrived she was having x-rays taken. The x-rays showed that the bones were fine and the doctor figured it was a dislocated elbow (nursemaid's elbow) and did the proper "adjustments" to her arm. We felt so badly seeing her in pain like that. Grandma rocked her and sang to her until it was time to head home. Scarlett wore a makeshift sling and got to stay up extra late and watch her favorite television show on the couch.

If you read my last post then you are already aware of Scarlett's new attitude and defiance. Just last week she decided she will no longer take medicine. Perfect. So, the doctor prescribed Tylenol with codeine and we weren't able to get that down her throat after trying several ways. She basically went to bed in pain and woke several times each hour - crying for a few seconds and falling back to sleep. Poor lil thing.

Thursday was very challenging. Gregg worked from 9-7 and I basically spent the day trying to keep her comfortable - and sneaking her regular Tylenol into different foods. It easily went down in her morning yogurt smoothie. Lunch was tough - had to resort to using yogurt again. After dinner we had frozen yogurt with meds mixed in chocolate syrup - I thought that was clever hehe. She held her arm up as if it were in a sling all day. She used only the good arm. I had a feeling that half of her reluctance was due to fear of pain. I kept testing her. Almost tricking her into using her bad arm. By 6 pm she was 'forgetting' from time to time and picking up toys with the bad arm. And by the time Daddy got home from work she was rolling around on the floor and putting her weight on it. YES!!!!!

She slept soundly all night, I thought we were in the clear. While getting her dressed she was holding her arm again, begging me to not change her clothes. I did it anyway. I moved her arm all around and it was fine but when I twisted it slightly she cried in pain. So I called the orthopedic doctor like we were instructed. We had a quick visit there and the doc said he thinks it is fine but made us an appointment with a pediatric orthopedic doctor for Monday. Ugh.

Scarlett had a miraculous recovery this afternoon it seems. She's back to being a little bull. I decided not to keep the Monday appointment and we are hoping she's all out of pain. I stopped giving her meds as of noon and she's been using that arm for everything. I think we're GOOD !!

You never want to see your child in pain but from the get-go we were so thankful that it wasn't anything serious. The same thing happened to me twice at her age - and is very common from ages 2-5, especially in girls. Once it happens - it is very easy to do it again so we've gotta be diligent. HA! Impossible.

The Scarlett Letters: let's get a few things straight...

Dearest Lemon-pie,

WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO TO ME??

Eh, I'm half kidding. Let's just say you've been "testy" lately ... and trying every ounce of patience I have. Some days I'm not sure who's winning. It seems that you believe that I am winning and I believe that you are winning. So we battle harder.

Let's clear up a few things...

You are 27 months old. How is it that you are strutting around the house like you just paid off the mortgage? You're constantly throwing your things everywhere, tossing food on the ground like this is some half-assed diner. Demanding diaper changes, snacks and Mickey videos. Listen up, kid, I run the show.

If I say we are drying your hair post-bath so your teeth will stop chattering - it's happening.

When I tell you to stop using the television screen as an easel - STOP IT.

When I put dinner in front of you which you refuse to eat and you immediately pull the pin on your little grenade - you aren't getting your wish of cookies, your alternate option is yogurt or nothing.

Just because I accidentally zipped your skin in your jacket ONE TIME doesn't mean that every zipper is going to ruin your life. I SAID I WAS SORRY, CRIPES !!! Let it go, kid.

When you flail around like a lunatic during our bedtime rocking/reading session it only makes me shorten the ritual. I feel like Danny DeVito trying to rock Shaq up there. You are clearly longer than my lap and legs, I know it's awkward - I can't stretch out like taffy so please try to settle in and just enjoy it. I'm pretty sure that glider is about to collapse any day now anyway.

When it's nap time and you run into the corner I can still see you. I will come get you, peel you from the floor and carry your arched body to the crib. It's going to happen.

When you decide that you can't handle the skin from the tomatoes or that you don't like blueberries today you needn't hand me every single unacceptable morsel to be taken to the trash that very moment - you can keep them on your plate until meal time is over.

You cannot eat all of the marshmallows out of the cereal canister. Mallow Oats will simply be OATS if you do that. Trust me, it's better this way.

Stop sticking your head through the bannister. Just stop it.

The staircase is not a place to put on a jazz show. Just move your bum up the stairs and don't worry about who carries blanky and who carries bunny. We will all be together again in fifteen seconds.

I always love you. Even when you're driving me mad because you refuse to have your nails clipped and I have to go sit in the other room on the couch for two minutes and breathe- I love you. When you roll over on the changing table like an alligator nailing its prey because I'm trying to get the "floofies" out of your nose and you've got some kind of mental block against tissues and q-tips - I love you. When you throw rocks at the glass door - I love you. When you take it upon yourself to get the chapstick out of the "do not enter" drawer - I love you.

It is apparent that you are going to fight me on everything for the next couple of years and I'm going to do my best to mentally (and physically) prepare myself. (Think: running bleachers and meditation). You're beyond stubborn. Potty training will most definitely have me rocking in a corner somewhere. But I love you. You're my wonderful, smart, adorably funny little girl. You're going to be a huge challenge but it's alright - we will get through it.

xo
Mama

they wear you out... but it's worth it

Ahhhhhh. Soaking in the moment when I am DONE for the day. Scarlett is in the crib, Brody's gone outside and had his snack, dishes are all done, humidifiers filled and all chores have commenced ... until tomorrow morning.

The rat-race.

It's so funny how you can read a million of those articles/blogs titled something like I may not have a job but I work just as hard as a stay-at-home parent and not realize that it's completely true until you actually become that parent. You get whacked with that realization * omg YUP, so true *... and then you wonder how you didn't see it before.

I really had no idea how consuming being a stay-at-home-mother can be. Year one didn't feel so crazy. Things were moving at a slower pace. Sure, Scarlett was growing and changing rapidly but she wasn't really mobile or terribly demanding. Year two sped things up drastically, leaving me to count on one hand the amount of times I sat down in a day. Year three is proving to be a weird mix. Scarlett can play by herself for longer periods of time and I don't have to watch her as closely in some situations. But she's still in diapers, fiercely stubborn, very energetic and a daredevil. Mealtime can be exhausting. Bath-time can be frustrating. Nap-time has turned into Scarlett's own Broadway show but at least it gives me an hour break. Add in heaps of laundry, swiffering and vacuuming dog hair, preparing meals, paying bills, running errands, cleaning, washing dishes - it's go, go, go until bedtime. We read books each night (she always pushes for 'one more') then we sing songs (again, 'one more') and then she cries when I put her in the crib - for just a minute or two. (She's never ready to rest). I head down the hallway and down the stairs and sigh. That sigh is not because I'm getting rid of her ... but because I'm getting time for myself after a long day. I love her like mad but need to be away from her too. To replenish my patience at the very least. Because let's face it, spending time with anyone for thirteen hours a day can be pretty trying.

I spend the first hour of my day drinking coffee and watching Today (or Roseanne). I need that little wake-up time before I start the grind. Scarlett's up by 7:20 so I am up by 6:20 every day. There are no days off, there are no weekends. She's not going to get up and make herself some eggs. She's not going to change her diaper and get dressed. She needs me. And I love that she does! I treasure that moment when she sees me open her door and announces, "MAMA!" with her great big honest grin.

And I treasure it even more than when I close her door at night - no matter how exhausting the day has been.

My motto to share with new parents (and old pros) everywhere is 'just hang in there'. Every dreadful phase passes and every tiring day/night comes to an end. The amazing thing about being a parent is that for all of the frustrating and trying moments there are countering lovely moments. You just have to be sure you're soaking up the lovely ones more than the ones that wear you down. So the next time you're admiring your little one as they play quietly to themselves - soak it up. The next time they giggle at something silly with their amazing honest giggle of crazy happiness - soak it up. The next time they hug you, kiss you or hand you a soggy pretzel to eat - eat the soggy pretzel, kiss them back and squeeze them tighter. Soak it all up. Those moments will power you through their next meltdown - or yours. ;o)

I'm on the couch!

When you become a parent you also become aware of lots of thing that you took for granted before children. Like how easy it was to do errands, how little contact you had with a sandbox and today's favorite: how wonderful it is to lie on a couch for hours when you don't feel well.

I rang in the New Year with a stupid jerk sinus infection. This used to be my calling card but over the past few years I've been quite lucky. In fact I didn't have a single cold in 2013 - until New Year's Eve. It's like a pitcher giving up his first hit in the bottom of the ninth. This one snuck in at the buzzer, started off mildly and showed its true colors on New Year's day.

A sinus infection is pretty manageable under normal circumstances. My remedies are: boxes of tissues, Advil cold and sinus, drinking lots of water and dragging a humidifier around like an I-V. However, the biggest key to my success is rest. Rest is something that is pretty hard to come by these days. And with Gregg training on a week's worth of closing shifts I'm pretty much flying solo. Scarlett goes to bed at eight but it's a long stretch getting to bedtime. She's been really good lately-playing more by herself and enjoying lengthier activities. But all day meal prep and clean up alone can seem unbearable when you just don't feel well. Last night's bedtime stories and songs nearly killed me. Alright I'm being dramatic - but my throat was so raw that I definitely skipped a few pages ... and my heart just wasn't in that last verse of Frosty the Snowman. Not to mention - I sounded like Bea Arthur.

Today, my mom offered to take Scarlett for the night - a sleepover during the snowstorm! So I packed her up and Gregg drove her over there for a slumber party. She's napping as we speak. {Funny, she never naps here}. What am I doing, you ask? I am currently set up on the couch with my fleece blanket, water bottle, box of tissues and Roseanne on the TV. It's so nice to just lounge on the couch! No watching the clock to see if it's time to pluck Scarlett from the crib or caring about what we'll have for dinner. No sitting on the floor playing Memory or hunting down the tiniest bottle of mustard from her Lalaloopsy doll - again. No running up and down the stairs for diaper changes as our hot meal becomes cold. No time table. I can do whatever I want all afternoon and all night. And I get to do it while watching the snow fall. Added bonus!

Don't get me wrong, I don't mind doing those things with Scarlett on a daily basis - I enjoy them. I mean, I do tire of mealtime struggles and cleaning up all day every day - but I love my time with her. It's just nice to have a break when you feel like crap. It's nice to lie down for hours with no agenda. It's nice to only be concerned with what I feel like eating when I feel like eating it. It's nice to run the television. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm long overdue for a catnap.

Thanks, Mom!

taking advantage of October

I wait all year long for weather like we have today. It's CHILLY. With a cloudy sky to make it feel even chillier. I took advantage of my free morning by packing up the car (with simply a tote bag and big pink ball) and heading to the park. I can't tell you how happy I am that I made that decision. 

Clad in our jeans, sneakers and hoodies, Scarlett and I had a ball...

We ran, we raced, we kicked that big pink ball, we searched for acorns, we chased squirrels, we threw leaves, we took a walk - we savored our morning together, for certain. While I still had my phone in hand to capture these moments in photos - I finally felt "disconnected" for a bit. I heard the tweeting text alerts but I didn't answer them. I was more focused on the sound and smell of crisp leaves, the chilly breeze fighting to enter my sleeves, the colors all around us and most importantly - my daughter's smile. The clarity of the pictures may not be the greatest but the memory behind each of them is priceless. Forever grateful for this day.  

The Scarlett Letters: Scarlett turns two!

Happy 2nd Birthday, Scarlett June!!!

Well, let's see. You're not a baby anymore... and, as my final 'Mom 365' daily email informed me, you're not a toddler anymore. What does that mean? Are you already a "little kid" ??? Nope, not in my book, baby girl. 

Two years ago today I was lying in a stiff bed with flat pillows, falling in love with The Big Bang Theory and working on 48 hours worth of contractions. Eventually you were born via C-section at 8:09 pm. And it was at that moment that my life began. Along with my short-lived morphine drip.

You have made everyone so happy. You make us laugh every day. You amaze us with your vocabulary and ability to put sentences together. At your party on Saturday I heard you say to a friend, "Hi! Welcome to my home!" I have no idea where you got that from. The other day I put your shoes on and you said, "Hmm, Mama, those fit pretty good!" I know you heard that one from me but you used it perfectly. Another popular phrase is, "Mama, I can't find my -------- anywhere!" We are able to have conversations with you although every now and then there is a word that takes us a while to figure out. You have trouble with your F's and L's. And it's adorable.

You lovvvvvvvvve to play "outshiiiiiide." We let you use your water table in our gravel area and you get plenty filthy having a blast with that. You love your slide and your swing and getting Brody to run with you. You think he is just so funny! Now that the weather is cooler and drier (and less insect-pleasing) I can enjoy being out there with you. I still hold my breath when I turn your toys over, praying there aren't 'things' floating or webs spun. Baby steps. 

We took you for a photo session last week and you threw a pretty decent tantrum but eventually warmed up and we got great shots. You're so photogenic. That smile is infectious and so heartwarming. You say hi to everyone and not everyone says hi back. I explain to you daily that some people don't like to say hi. Then I grumble under my breath that those people are called assholes.

You are really into playing with little figures, like Mickey, Minnie and Pluto. You also enjoy using your new easel. You wipe it clean and say, "Good as new!" And when you've had enough you put your marker down and say, "Ok, I'm all done." For your birthday we gave you a cash register which you absolutely love - just as I did as a little girl. Although my cash register was my jewelry box... and it didn't have a scanner, or credit card slot and the only sound it made was when I wound up the ballerina but hey, I didn't know the difference. You also adore your basket of fake foods - which was one of my favorite things to play with as a kid. We had a picnic in the playroom the other day and I felt like I was four years old all over again. I almost fought you for the little strawberry.

You are amazing, Scarlett. You're so so so so smart. You are truly funny and silly and spunky. You're bold as brass, stubborn like your Mama and a roughneck through and through. You do stop to smell the flowers - even if they are in the pages of your book. You like to choose your clothes when given the option and you've refused to wear your Super-girl shirt for months. Humble too, perhaps? You can't get enough of peanut butter or cantaloupe. You have favorite songs like, "I Will Wait" by Mumford and Sons. You dance in your highchair and like us to dance with you... "and Mama too ... and Dada too... and Bro too!" I wish Brody could dance for you. You love Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, Team Umizoomi and Special Agent Oso. I feel good about letting you watch those shows. You are learning so much every day from your family, from being outside, from watching good television, from playing with your toys. I pray that you always have that blessed brain. 

Happy Birthday Dear Scarlett, Happy Birthday to you! 
(I've noticed you are sleeping in on your big day! It's 8:33 ... ooo I hear you murmuring ... ) 

We all love you SO MUCH!
xoxo
Mama

power of three...

This past week has been very unique. Very happy, very sad and very inspirational. In one week the lives of three of my friends have been altered forever. One had her first baby - a beautiful girl named Charlie. One lost the love of his life and mother of his four children. And one got married today. Life changing events all around. I'm left with racing thoughts, ups and downs and at times even guilt.

I just have a few things to say... 

Be thankful for all that you have. We are lucky. If we have found love, we are lucky. If we have been blessed with a child we are lucky. So many people are searching for their soul mate or praying for a baby. Don't take anything for granted. Be grateful.

We too often focus on the things that just aren't important - like bills and car repairs. We should let those be the background noise in the soundtrack of our lives. Let our happiness play the leading role - not our stress. Make wonderful memories every single day. And realize we are making them. These beautiful moments won't last forever.

Health is what matters most. Everything else can be altered.


Time waits for no one. That precious baby you are rocking to sleep will be seventeen in a blink. Cherish the good, the bad and the in between.

Life changes in an instant. For better or for worse. You can have it all one moment and have nothing the next. Spend your time wisely, choose your words wisely, be good to one another. Be kind. Do good things. Don't expect anything in return, just do good things because you want to. Live each second as if you were being judged on it. Life is so very fragile. And so very short. 

Welcome to the world, Charlie Liberty, you're lucky to have such an amazing mama. 

Rest in peace Michelle, you were taken too soon and will always be in our hearts.

Congratulations and best wishes to John and Jillian - I wish you a lifetime of happiness together.