Mama Nash

Captionless

2012-02-09T16:04:00.000-06:00

I just recently found this picture when I was purusing through Christmas photos that have long been forgotten. It says so many things, don't you think? And it feels like it should be a poster for something. Not sure what. But something.

Fun With The Baby

2012-02-07T16:42:00.000-06:00

When does the baby stop being referred to as "The Baby" and start being called by her given name?

I don't know but I hope not soon because that would mean she's getting old.

I can barely remember calling William or Lucy "The Baby." But I know I did. And now they're "Luce" or "Lucenberg" (don't ask) and "WILLIAM!" or "Hamster" (don't ask on that one either.)

This little lady has brought so much joy in our little family. You absolutely positively cannot say you've had a bad day when she looks into your eyes and gives you a giant, gummy, drool-y grin. I dare you to try.

And having a five-year-old this go round has been a pleasant surprise of wonderfulness. He's so patient with her and mostly gentle. He is boy after all so there's only so much he can do when it comes to being gentle. He begs to hold her. He calms her when she cries. He offers her his face for inspection as seen above and never flinches or cries out or gets mad when she scratches him or pulls too hard as I know she does. I'm a little sad William will never have a brother who is close to him in age. But I think God knew what he was doing when he gave him these little sisters.

7 Quick Takes [1.27.12]

2012-01-27T20:58:00.002-06:00

1. I had a dentist appointment at 7 a.m. this morning. It was still dark when I got in my car to leave. The only time I'm ever up and at 'em that early is if I'm heading to the airport. I canceled my dental insurance for the rest of Brian's company's fiscal year so I figured I should get in a check-up before the end of the month while insurance would still pay for it. And wouldn't ya know, when you call a week in advance, 7 a.m. appointments are all that they have available.

2. I hate going to the dentist. I was seriously laying there as she scratched away at my teeth with that pointy sharpy thing thinking that I was pretty sure I'd rather be going through childbirth than sitting there in that dentist chair. And that's coming from a gal who's got a set of pretty healthy teeth. No root canals or bridges or crowns to speak of. I hadn't been in three years. I can see you wagging your finger at me. Stop it. I got enough from the hygienist. She said I brush too hard and floss too little. And she was kinda mean about it. What is it about hygienists feeling like they have a right to get up on their soapbox all the time? When I go to the doctor for a check-up they never guilt trip me about not exercising enough or not eating 3-5 servings of vegetables every single day. What's up with that?

3. Last weekend Brian and I cleaned, sorted and purged the basement. After Katherine was born it became a dumping ground for all the clutter I didn't have time to deal with but didn't want to see. Every time I came downstairs to do the laundry I had an anxiety attack at the mounds of boxes that had piled up. I sorted through and organized all my baby clothes, Brian made a trip to Good Will, we broke down a lot of cardboard boxes for the recycling bin, and I listed a few items on eBay. (Go have a look!) Now whenever I come down to do the laundry, which is once every ten minutes, I feel peace and calm rushing through my body.

4. Now that our basement looks so much bigger without all that clutter, I decided to make a small play space down there for the kids. Currently our porch is the home to all the kids' toys but it was getting a little full after opening Christmas gifts. So I relocated a few of their old toys to the basement and now they are suddenly super interested in all the things that were previously collecting dust. Funny how just a new spot can do that. It's nice to have another option for the kids to go as we sit here in the middle of January anxiously awaiting spring.

5. Speaking of the weather, there hasn't been much mention of it around here. Usually it seems to be my favorite topic here on the ol' blog. Especially if I'm in a complaining kind of mood. But this winter has been different. Very little snow and very high temps. So I'm not complaining. We got a couple of inches in the last week but nothing that makes a very big story. The kids love the snow and as long as it isn't paired with below zero temps, I'm OK with it. I'm so hopeful for an early spring. Here we are at the end of January so soon and it's like I can already see the light at the end of the tunnel. But a true Minnesotan knows to never jinx it until it's the end of March.

6. On Wednesday Brian took the day off work to visit his dad who is recovering from surgery. He took Lucy with him. The whole day felt like a vacation. And I didn't even make William take a rest. I never realized just how much energy it takes to raise a two-and-a-half-year-old whose name is Lucy. I think she probably uses up 90% of my mental and emotional energy and the other two get the leftovers. During lunch William turned to me and asked why it was so quiet in the house. Every day with my Lucy is full of fireworks. Explosive and loud, but still ridiculously pretty. Every day with Lucy is also another day closer to her turning three. Thank goodness for that.

7. Lucy getting older reminds me that William is old. I took him to Kindergarten Round-Up on Tuesday night. Yep, we're there already. He was so excited to be there. Afterward he kept telling everyone he knew that he was in Kindergarten Round-Up now. He's excited to wear a uniform and walk with the big kids and cross the street with the school patrol and eat lunch there and he totally cannot believe that he'll get to skip rest time every day. He's such a good kid and sometimes I forget that. There's a kindergarten teacher out there who doesn't even know what's going to hit her next year.

Some [New] Thoughts on Breastfeeding

2012-01-26T12:00:00.002-06:00

In the words of my dear friend, Andrea Logue: My boobs are like workhorses these days.

While nursing her daughter she told me she would ask herself: Why even bother wearing a shirt? I laughed so hard when she said that because it is totally true.

I am in the thick of breastfeeding with Katherine right now. She's at the age where she's still a few months out before starting solids, yet she's getting bigger so her tummy keeps asking for more, more, more!

When I had William I had to work really hard to nurse him. He was in the NICU for the first two weeks of his life so that meant the pump and I were best friends. I had a love/hate relationship with that thing. When William was finally strong enough to eat on his own, it seemed like it took months before he had a good latch and was really getting the hang of things. But I kept on because I just thought this was how it was supposed to be. He breastfed, more or less, for about 13 months.

When Lucy came along she latched on the second she was out of the womb. "OH!" I thought, "THIS is how it's supposed to be." Easy and natural. And most of the time it was like that. Until she started biting me. I didn't always enjoy breastfeeding her but I did it because that's what I expected out of myself.

In the last few years I have had more and more friends who have desperately wanted to breastfeed but, for whatever reasons, couldn't do it. And it was rarely for lack of trying. It's been after listening to these women, these good friends of mine, tell me their grief at not being able to breastfeed that I've come to realize how I've taken my own breastfeeding experiences for granted. I've truly been blessed to be able to naturally feed all three of my children with relative ease.

And now my darling Katherine is here and theoretically she should be the toughest to nurse. It's hard to hear the chaos that ensues with my other two kids when Katherine needs to eat and I'm glued to the chair. I can't make lunch right now. I can't take you to the potty right now. I can't help you build Legos right now.

But I'm realizing that I'm enjoying breastfeeding this third time around more than ever. It's so peaceful up there in that room of hers when it's just her and I. When one of the other kids pop in to say hello, even they sense the serenity and bring their voices down a notch or two. When my life is busier than ever I'm so glad I have this forced reason to slow down. A rationale to sit for ten to fifteen minutes at time. An excuse to hold her little body when it's so much easier to set her down and run about the house.

And this body of mine. I really don't thank it enough. Instead I look in the mirror and question what it has become. I see the silver little stretch lines on my hips. A tummy that's softer than it used to be. Breasts that seem to be mismatched. (But they are bigger. That is one positive out of this.)

No matter how much I might put down my body or yell at it for not fitting into these jeans or that shirt the way it used to, it still performs for me. When I forget to drink enough water. When I eat too many sweets. When I wait too long to eat lunch. When I don't exercise enough. When I don't sleep enough. It still never lets me down.

It's such a marvelous thing to not only grow an entire human being for nine months but to then be able provide it with sustenance for months after that baby is born!

So my new thoughts on breastfeeding are this:

1. I'll never judge another woman for not breastfeeding. None of us knows the individuals pains it takes in doing so.

2. I'm going to try my best to offer praise and encouragement to women who can and do breastfeed. It's tough, but it's often times thankless.

3. I'm going to try my best not to groan in the middle of the night when a hungry baby yelps. Or get panicky when she gets hungry in a less-than desirable location. Or get annoyed when she wants to eat AGAIN. This is a gift I've been given, not a burden. I'm going to try to embrace it.

Just a fun picture of Katherine because I'm not the kind of girl who can take, much less, post a picture of myself breastfeeding. :)

Baby Giggles

2012-01-25T14:38:00.000-06:00

Before I had kids I would have thought this to be a lame video to post. But now I have three. And I know just how hard you work for those first giggles. To know that behind the eating, sleeping, pooping machine there's a real live person. One with feelings and emotions. And not one where all the feelings are of being hungry. But a little life who enjoys some fun and play just like the rest of us. And more importantly she enjoys it with her Daddy.

I'm only a teeny bit angry he got her to laugh before I did.

I feel like I haven't written enough about Katherine lately so let me sum it up in three little words: She is awesome. I can totally see why it's easy to think about having a fourth when your third just sits and smiles all. day. long. I am in love.

Little Old Ladies Tell the Truth

2012-01-20T15:52:00.002-06:00

In lieu of Quick Takes, today I'd like to write a response to blog post I've seen linked all over the Internet. Maybe you've seen it too? It's called Don't Carpe Diem by Glennon Melton. It is some seriously awesome writing and I think every mother in the country should read it. It would make all of us feel of a whole helluva lot better.

The part I want to respond to is when she writes about the little old ladies who approach you at Target, you with your overflowing cart and unruly children, and tell you to enjoy it because this time will go by so fast. Glennon goes on to write about how this isn't reality. And she's right. While I would love to sit and stare at my beautiful baby daughter all day long, to coo at her and smile back at her and to try my damnedest to make her laugh, the reality of it all is that the laundry needs to be folded and put away, dinner needs to be cooked, a two-year needs to be dashed to the potty and those fingerprints on the window are really starting to get on my nerves. And while all that is going on, that daughter of mine has gone from a week old to nearly three months old. Moments slipped between my fingers while I was dealing with...life.

What I want to say about those little old ladies at Target is that they're not telling us a pack of lies. They're telling us the truth. Or the truth as best they can remember it. Because that's the thing about life experiences. We all remember the past in rose-colored glasses.

I grew up with a mom who was much like myself. She took care of the house too much and played with her kids too little. Or at least that's what she tells me. But what I remember about my childhood was a mom who always made the bed with sheets that were dried in the spring breeze. A mom who had homemade chocolate chip cookies waiting for us when we got home from school. A mom who read aloud "Little Women" and "A Little Princess" every night before bed.

She says she didn't play with us enough but I remember the hot summer night when our whole family laughed and ran around outside while having a water fight and then discreetly stripped to our skivvies in the backyard before going in the house. She says she never let us have sugar cereal but I remember how she fed our bellies with good food for breakfast, lunch and dinner. (And I also remember the once-a-year summer trips when we got to bring the mini cereal boxes that included Cinnamon Toast Crunch.) She says she never took us to Disney World. But I remember amazing ski vacations in the Rocky Mountains, jumping in the lakes at summer cabins up North and searching for seashells on Sanibel Island. She says she never bought us name-brand clothing. But I'll never forget the one Christmas when I opened up a pair of Gerbeaud jeans.

Did she yell at us? Probably. Did she lose her temper? I'm sure of it. Did she ever make a parenting mistake? All the time.

But I couldn't tell you a single story of it ever happening. At least to my recollection.

I look back on my college years as the fondest four years of my life. It's where I met my husband. And my friends for life. It's where we stayed out late, slept in, went to interesting classes, ate junk food and drank too much. The biggest responsibility I had was paying my cell phone bill each month. Which I think was less than $30. My employment consisted of watching some pretty cool kids and bringing them to the pool each day. I still can't believe I got paid for that. I listened to whatever I wanted on the radio and watched whatever I wanted on television. I had no idea a Mickey Mouse Clubhouse show even existed and I certainly didn't know how to sing its theme song.

But if I really rack my memory about college I also know there were a lot of tears. Frustrations over a term paper. A bad grade on a test. Fights with the boyfriend. Worries about roommates and where I would live next semester. I ate food that made me gain weight. I never had enough money to go out. And if I did, I sure felt like crap the next day. But ask me about my college experience and I'll never tell you these things. I'm not trying to hide or sugarcoat anything. In an overall summary of my memory, college really was the time of my life.

And I think that's what these little old ladies mean when they tell us to enjoy it now for soon it will all be done. When I wake up in the morning I never ask myself what I will do that day. I know what I have to do. I have a purpose, however exhausting that purpose might be.

Those little old ladies wake up each morning with an entire day of nothingness in front of them. Of course I'm generalizing here but what I'm trying to say is that they don't have little lives dependent on them. They don't have anyone who needs them for survival anymore. And that hurts a little. It feels good to be needed. And it feels good to be solely responsible for a little piece of the future. To be in charge of these molds who look to us for their every little need.

A few weeks ago I was in the basement of our church attending donut Sunday after mass. I was walking across the cafeteria with Katherine in one arm and guiding Lucy with my other when a small, shaking, fragile hand reached out to me. It was an old woman who appeared to be in failing health. She had no teeth and couldn't really speak, her hair was falling out, one of her eyes didn't open all the way, and her whole body just looked like it was ready to throw in the towel. But she reached out to me anyway and then pulled Lucy in close for a hug. Then she looked at Katherine, really looked into her eyes, and she smiled a huge toothless grin.

That's what little children do for little old ladies. They don't remind them of the time when they had piles of laundry or when they spanked when they shouldn't have or when they yelled too much or all the sleepless nights of nursing a newborn or when their toddler wet her pants three times in one day or how long it took to get every one's hats, mittens, coats and boots on or that one night when she couldn't get it together enough to get dinner on the table.

Instead, little old ladies smile because children remind them of their glory days. When they woke up each morning and knew exactly what the day would ask of them. When they had enough strength to birth a baby out of their body. And breastfeed the baby while reading a story to the toddler. When they knew the exact remedy for curing the cough in the middle of the night. And how to get the spaghetti sauce stain out of the school uniform.

They remember sweet kisses before bedtime. Handmade ornaments for the Christmas Tree. Scratchy five-year-old handwriting that said, "I love you, Mommy." Paper birthday crowns. Dr. Seuss. Painting tiny toenails. Pigtails. Dirt under his fingernails. Plastic swimming pools. Tutus and princess wands. Taking off the training wheels. Snowmen in the backyard. Swinging until his feet touches the branches. Big, fat, rosy cheeks. Chubby baby fingers. Somersaults and cartwheels. The smell of popcorn during a Friday night movie at home. The flutter of eyelids while they're sleeping. The sound of two of them giggling together. Wisps of hair and extra long eyelashes. And yes, even sweet, tiny fingerprints on the windows.

Ask a woman at the end of her life what she remembers most and this is it my friends.

Yes, it's exhausting and frustrating and boring and chaotic and one hundred percent selfless. Some days are even the worst you've ever experienced.

But when little old ladies tell you they enjoyed every moment of being a parent, they're not lying. It's all they remember. Even if it is behind rose-colored glasses.

In Which I Failed As a Parent [But Don't Really Care]

2012-01-16T16:27:00.000-06:00

There was a death in our family last week.

Lucy's pacifier, or nukie, as we call it, broke. She has this habit of chewing on her nukie every once in a while and the nipple part finally ripped off.

The thing was pretty disgusting as it was anyway. It really had been through the ringer. She had had this nukie since she was an itty bitty baby. Sure, I could have bought a new one. But being that she is two, going on three in April, I declared that this would be her last nukie. Once it was lost, or broke, that would be it. No more nukie.

I put my foot down. I wasn't giving in. I'm the parent. I say what's what. Sometimes kids need a little extra shove when it comes to growing up and this was all part of it.

Well that Lucy. She turned right around and showed me who's boss. And it's not me. Or Brian. That's for sure.

We bloggers have a funny way of portraying ourselves in our best light. We've got it all figured out. The best parenting strategies. Touched-up photos. Angels for kids. Even bad situations turn out good in the end. Am I right?

Well lately I've been trying to keep it real here on the ol' blog. Hence the post on the faith I live. Sometimes everything really is coming up roses. (Her name is Katherine.) But sometimes it's not. And this weekend is a prime example for me to tell you how I had a big fat fail. How I turned away from what I know I should have done and instead took the easy road.

The easy road includes things like the baby swing instead of her crib because she sleeps longer and television to keep the five-year-old quiet because I just can't answer one more curious question. Keepin' it real.

The easy road also includes going out and buying your two-year-old not one, but two new nukies even after you declare that there shall be no more nukies.

What happened as a result of the dead nukie was simple: she wouldn't sleep. For naps she wandered around her bedroom and tore it a part. At bedtime she cried for her nukie and most nights didn't fall asleep until close to ten o'clock. And in the morning she awoke much earlier than normal especially considering how late she fell asleep.

All that adds up to a whole lot of sleep loss. And when Lucy is sleep deprived you best get out of her way. If you look at her sideways she will not let it go unnoticed. There are five people living in this house and each day Lucy set the mood for all of us. And it wasn't a good one.

I waited it out through Saturday. I wanted Brian to experience a full 24 hours without a nukie. He was the biggest advocate of getting the nukie out of our lives. On nights when we thought the nukie was really lost for good, he was ready to throw in the towel much sooner than me.

"Can't this just be it? Can't we just say we're done with the nukie?" He would ask as I crawled around on my hands and knees looking in every nook and cranny for the damn thing.

He got his answer on Saturday.

"Yeah, this sucks," he said, "We need to get her a new one."

On Sunday morning Brian needed to run an errand at Walgreens.

"See if they have the same n-u-k-i-e-s," I shouted as he left. (Lucy, being the stubborn child that she is, is quite particular about her brand of nukies. I had already tried to offer her the many other options we had on hand for Katherine. "No, not THAT nukie!" she would yell at me.)

Operation New Nukie was a success. Walgreens had exactly what we needed. When Brian handed the package of two nukies over to Lucy she screamed in delight.

"NEW NUKIES!"

I've never seen a toddler cry tears of joy but I'm almost positive I saw it that day.

And since then? Not a peep at nap, not a peep at bed. And her mood? Pure bliss. Well, I wouldn't go that far. She's still Lucy, after all. But it's leap and bounds better than before.

How did I fail as a parent? Oh let me count the ways. But ask me if I care. I dare you.

And that, I believe, is the best way to illustrate that fancy term I learned in psychology known as cognitive dissonance. You're welcome.

The Sleepy One

2012-01-15T15:53:00.000-06:00

Of all the challenges kids can throw at their parents, sleep has never been one of his.

Calvin and Hobbes lost out to sleep.

Since the minute he was born, he has always been able to sleep anywhere, at any time, under any condition for long periods of time without waking from any distruption.

In this season, with a toddler who has difficulty falling and staying asleep and a newborn who wakes out of necessity to eat, I've never been more thankful for this trait of his.

P.S. I would have loved to have watched the progression that led to these scenes.

The Faith I Live

2012-01-12T20:07:00.001-06:00

When I first started blogging I thought I was going to be a Catholic blogger. There were many Catholic mom blogs and writers I read and admired. But it wasn't too long after I started blogging that I realized a solely Catholic blog wasn't up my alley. There are some things I'm comfortable putting out there for all to read. Things I'm willing to take a stand on in a public forum. And then there are things I hold close to my heart and choose not to write about because I'm just not ready (or willing? or called?) to be a warrior for those issues.

But make no mistake. I am Catholic and my faith plays a large role in my life even if I don't wrap up all my writings with a nice a little Catholic angle. There's inspiring women who can do that. But that's not me.

Sometimes I feel like less of a Catholic when I write about petty things like watching The Bachelor or buying a new pair of skinny jeans or wondering what kind of eye cream to use. I feel like I might be shunned for not constantly wearing my faith on my sleeve.

But I am a mom. A wife. A 30-something American. I was not called to be a cloistered nun. (Even though some days that life sounds like the most wonderful, peaceful, QUIET place to be!) I am a person of and in this modern world however unholy it might sometimes be.

We go to mass every Sunday without fail. For some I know that makes it sound like we're devout Catholics. But if you could only see us in that pew. With our potty breaks and breastfeeding and shushing and arm-squeezing and Richard Scarry book-reading, and you-better-watch-it looks, and the cold sweats, and the kneeler-crashing. It's not pretty. But we're there. We're there because we care. We're there because our parents loved the faith so much that they put up with those same cold sweats to bring us to mass every Sunday when we were babies, toddlers, preschoolers and beyond. We're there because we hope that this small act of effort and sacrifice just might be enough. When all other parenting skills have failed it feels good to know I least I've brought my children before God each and every week.

My prayer life isn't a silent meditative hour. Instead it's quick requests of please, God, please. For a good hair day. For less screaming. A close parking spot. That we make it through the grocery store without making a scene. That the small wail in the middle of the night will sooth itself out. That my feverish child will feel better soon. For patience. And gratitude. And understanding. And generosity. And energy.

And then I pray for forgiveness. That in this season of giving everything I have to give to everyone else, He accepts the small amount I have left over for Him.

I pray He doesn't think my prayers are petty. Or short. Or meaningless.

Right now I'm called to serve Him in poopy diapers and dirty laundry and breastfeeding and potty-training and making a grocery list and giving baths and making beds and combing tangled hair and putting on boots and reading Pinkalicious for the thousandth time.

I hope He see these as little I love yous to Him. Small prayers, small acts that add up to something bigger.

I thank Him for these three beautiful and healthy children. However sassy and whiny they might be. I thank him for my generous and patient husband who has an unbelievable unconditional love for me. I thank Him for this house, our school, our neighborhood, our life!

This is the faith I live. I know it will never be enough. But, with grace, I pray it is anyway.

Like Twins

2012-01-09T16:27:00.000-06:00

William, two months old.

Katherine, two months old, and William, five years old. (He insisted she hold the microphone.)

I asked William the other day how he can tell the difference between girl babies and boy babies. It wasn't a trap. I really wanted to see if he knew the answer. "You can tell by their hair," he told me. I'm starting to think he's right.

Brian with William who is a few days old.

Brian with Katherine who is one day old.

I also noticed that as Brian's hair has gotten thinner, his muscles have gotten bigger. Coincidence?

7 Quick Takes [1.6.12]

2012-01-06T09:00:00.003-06:00

1. My brother just called to ask if he and a girlfriend can babysit our kids on Tuesday. I can barely contain my excitement. Yay for people who love our kids! And also yay for breastpumps and bottles! What should we do?! Where should we go?! What movie should we see?!

2. My new favorite song is The Walk by Mayer Hawthorne. The lyrics have absolutely nothing to do with my life and there's even a few naughty words in there. But I can't help it. I just love the sound of it. I blare it in the car all the time. It's now on the radio here and there but thanks to my music-loving husband I can say that I was listening to it way before it was popular. He does that a lot. Makes me listen to new artists, new songs and then a few months later, boom, I hear it on the radio. He's cool like that.

3. My husband is also making me watch The Bachelor this season. I know that sounds like a sarcastic statement, and I even kind of wish it were, but I'm really saying that with a straight face. We didn't watch last season of The Bachelorette because neither of us were big fans of Ashley during Brad's season. But my DVR went ahead and recorded the first episode of The Bachelor on Monday without my knowledge to which Brian replied, "YES!" At first I thought he was kidding but he explained he loves watching the girls cry, fight and make fools of themselves. He loves counting the number of times they say the word "amazing" or "for the right reasons." Pure comedy. If you remember, he was my guest blogger way back when Jake was the bachelor. I remember it fondly because my readership went through the roof. He's always stealing my thunder like that. I have to agree though. I think watching The Bachelor makes me feel like a better person. Kind of like how watching Supernanny makes me feel like a better parent.

4. I think I mentioned in a previous post that Brian gave me a Kindle Fire for Christmas. At first I was unsure. But now I think I kind of love it. I had been going through a serious drought when it came to reading other blogs but I'm easing back into it thanks to the Fire. Now I can easily do all my reading on the couch while nursing, at the kitchen table while drinking my coffee, or comfortably in bed before I go to sleep. I am also loving all the children's picture books. The illustrations look so vibrant on the screen and I like that some of the stories are interactive.

5. One of the things I read on my Fire last night before I fell asleep was this blog post on Why Skim Milk Will Make You Fat and Give You Heart Disease. I was very intrigued by what the author had to say. When I cook I always use real butter and cream but I only drink skim milk. My kids, however, only drink whole milk. I shared the article with Brian and we agreed we would give this theory a shot. The only problem is that I find that I like the taste of skim milk better. Does anyone else have this problem? Tonight at dinner I mixed my glass half with skim milk and half with whole milk. It was OK. It'll definitely take some getting used to.

6. I went to my first yoga class post pregnancy on Wednesday night and it was AH-MAZ-ING! (I say that and I'm not even a contestant on The Bachelor.) Prior to getting pregnant with Katherine I was serious about my yoga practice. I went at least once a week; usually two or three. But then morning sickness hit and I just never got back into it. Now that Katherine is here and my life is nothing short of a three-ring circus, it was the perfect time to dust off my mat. I went to a new studio a mom friend of mine opened. It was an hour and a half of yoga and meditation by candlelight. I can hear you all sighing right now, right? It was exactly what I needed to bring peace to my mind and body. If you're in the area and available on Wednesday nights, give me a call and we'll go together. You won't regret it!

7. OK, seriously, Tuesday night. I have two babysitters! What should we do?! Brian says dinner followed by Mission: Impossible. What do you think?

The Beauty of Routine and Structure

2012-01-05T16:18:00.002-06:00

Well hello, Mr. Blog. Long time, no write. I'm not even going to apologize for my absence.

You see this? This is pretty much how our entire Christmas break looked. This was taken on New Year's Eve. We were watching the new Winnie the Pooh movie. If anyone saw my 20s out at some bar having a rockin' New Year's Eve, tell them I say hey. And tell them I bet I felt better than they did the next morning. (P.S. The Winnie the Pooh movie was actually quite good. Clever and funny and just sweet. I recommend!)

I'm not going to beat around the bush or sugar coat anything here. Our break wasn't all that great. A few of us did come down with the throw-ups but even that wasn't what really brought it down. I think I came into the break thinking how amazing it was going to be to have Brian around so much. I could feed the baby while he made lunch. He could change her diaper while I gave the kids a bath. An extra pair of hands. Someone to chat with. We would drink coffee all day long and sip wine at night by the fire while watching the latest flick from Redbox.

And we did do some of that but by and large there was just a lot of sitting/laying around. In all of our excitement about the idea of having us all be at home together for so long Brian and I both failed to actually plan any activities. So the kids got bored and then got on our nerves. The house got messy and stressed me out. No one really ever got dressed. We ate a lot of crap. But we did drink a lot of coffee. So I guess I got one thing out of my list.

The truth of the matter is that we're a better, happier family when we run on schedule. When the kids see that dad is home they're not really sure what to expect. They think it's Saturday but when there's six Saturdays in a row things get a little jumbled.

And while there isn't a single other person in this whole entire world who I would rather spend my free time with, the truth is that I don't function as my best wife and mother when he's home every day. Everything feels too loosey goosey. The laundry stays dirty. The dishes don't get cleared. The counters are smeared with...something. The bed doesn't always get made. It's the kind of stuff I never let go by the wayside when I'm home alone, doing my job. I'm sure Brian wouldn't be productive at the office either if I were hanging out by his desk all day long. It's just the way it is.

I realize that some families do free time a lot better than us. Some marriages work great when the spouses are together all day, every day. A lot of people are good at spontaneity. A lot of families are good at getting ready in the morning and kicking everyone out the door for some good fun.

We aren't that family. We need a plan and we need one every single day.

Yesterday Brian went back to work and William went back to school and I swear I could almost hear those gears start clicking and turning once again. They were a bit rusty but once they got going it was all too familiar.

Do you how many times Lucy asked where William was or how many times any of the kids asked where Dad was? None. I think they were just as relieved as I was to be back on schedule. And besides, I really did miss the sound of the door opening at the end of the day and the excited shrieks and stomping feet running to the back door to greet their dad. Best part of every day. Hands down.

I Will Remember this Christmas

2011-12-29T12:05:00.002-06:00

William, I will remember this Christmas as the Christmas you got really excited about presents; both giving and receiving. I will remember how you powered through your Christmas program at school even though you were throwing up the night before. I will remember how concerned you were that our baby Jesus didn't get blessed because the holy water got on you instead. I will remember your red and blue tie paired with your Nike tennis shoes. I will remember your Batman ornament and how excited you got every morning to find Dino the Elf and open another chocolate on the Advent calendar. I will remember your remote controlled car and you reading all your new comic books. I will remember this Christmas because of you.

Lucy, I will remember this Christmas as the Christmas you were every definition of a two-year-old. I will remember how much you loved watching The Grinch and Charlie Brown. I will remember how excited you got every time we turned on the Christmas lights, exclaiming, "Is it Christmas time?!" I will remember your deep love for Belle in Beauty & The Beast and your favorite donut and the ornament you got to go with it, "The kind with frinklers on it." I will remember how sad I was when you threw up on Christmas Eve morning just as we were about to begin our travels and how you didn't get to participate in everything I would have wanted you to. I will remember comforting your sick body and how that, somehow, was still the spirit of Christmas. I will remember this Christmas because of you.

Katherine, I will remember this Christmas as the Christmas you were just an itty bitty thing. I will remember your tiny, squirmy body stretched out on the chaise in front of the roaring fireplace as I addressed Christmas cards. I will remember the first time I shortened your name to Kate because I ran out of room on the to/from gift labels. I will remember you and your big sister's matching red plaid dresses and how you had already outgrown the newborn size I bought for you and had to hide the undone bottons with a sweater. I will remember how angry you were during Christmas mass because I didn't have time to feed you before we left but how you still had enough wonderfulness in you to smile at the people in the pew behind us. I will remember this Christmas because of you.

Brian, I will remember this Christmas as the first Christmas we had three kids. I will remember you sipping egg nog and Scotch and B&B and beer, good beer, by the fire. I will remember this Christmas as the year I couldn't think of anything to give you. So I stuck with the old standby: beer, good beer. I will remember this Christmas as the year you went all out on my present surprising me with a Kindle Fire. Oh, and a coffee mug that keeps my coffee mug hot for five hours. (Honestly, I'm not sure which I love more.) I will remember your birthday and how we survived a day downtown with all three kids to see Santa, watch the parade and eat out at a nice restaurant. I will remember this Christmas because of you.

Tell me, what will you remember about Christmas this year?

Merry Christmas from the Nashes!

2011-12-21T12:29:00.000-06:00

Our Christmas cards are all mailed and most should be received by now. I love, love, love how they turned out this year!

This photo session was taken less than a week after Katherine was born! There were a lot of smoke and mirrors involved in getting me to look this way and I can still see a lot of puffiness in my face but overall I'm glad we had them done when the leaves were at their peak.

Aren't candid shots the best? I paired this shot with the one below on the back of our card with the caption "wishing you laughter & love." I really liked Shutterfly's option to add something to the back of your card this year.

This session was part of a larger session for the whole Nash family; including all of Brian's siblings, their spouses, kids and, of course, his mom and dad. It was no small feat getting all 23 of us together and dressed in our best. A huge shout-out to Liz Westerhaus who not only shot the amazing photos but remained calm through all the hoop-jumping it takes to get ten grandchildren to sit still. Soon I'm going to post more photos from this session and I hope to write about what it's been like to be married into this amazing family.

And finally, my dear sweet Katherine. There's a new stocking above our fireplace this year and I thought it was only appropriate that she take center stage on our card this year to announce her arrival. That, and I never got my act together to send out a real birth announcement so I sent a two-for-one! This photo was taken at the tail end of her acne outbreak. I love her little grin and her fat cheeks!

P.S. You wouldn't believe the amount of product it took to tame her hair for this picture. Seconds later it was sticking up all over the place once again.

Do you do Christmas cards every year? Put a link to your photos in the comments section if you've got one. I'd love to see them!

7 Quick Takes [12.16.11]

2011-12-16T23:10:00.000-06:00

1. This morning was not the best morning of my life. It started with me getting into the shower just as my two-year-old busted into the baby's room and woke her up while simultaneously having a potty accident. What I thought was going to be a leisurely Friday morning shower turned into taking a shower with a toddler with the soundtrack of a crying newborn in the background.

2. Yesterday was Brian's 30th birthday! To celebrate we (kids included) all went to downtown Minneapolis to see Santa, eat dinner and watch the Holidazzle parade. It was all a lot of fun albeit a bit chaotic but it's where we're at right now. At one point during our dinner at a very adult restaurant I had to laugh. William ate a dinner of crackers. Lucy asked to go potty one thousand times. And the baby pooped up her back. Even when the kids are on their best behavior they're still kids and it's busy. But it's a heck of a lot more memorable than a $150 dinner with just the two of us. Plus we needed William's loud mouth to score us a free beer, cake and ice cream!

3. My husband thinks he's Mark Wahlberg. A relative recently gave us a full size punching bag he no longer wanted. Brian spent an entire Sunday installing it in our garage and asked for boxing gloves for his birthday. He sets his alarm for 5 a.m. and trots out to Gym de Nash and boxes for his morning workout. When he does this I find him both nerdy and attractive all at the same time. If you're in the area and ever wanted to try a boxing workout, let me know! He would love a partner in crime.

4. Because of #2 I was extremely tired today which is why this is being posted late a night.

5. It's also why this post lacks creativity and wit. My apologies.

6. And also why I have no energy to link to recipes for all the cookie recipes I made last weekend. But here's the list anyway: Monster Cookies, Caramel Cashews, Chocolate Chunk Walnut and Banana Cookies, Praline Cookies, Nutmeg Logs, Sugar Cookie Cut-Outs, Santa's Snicker Surprise Cookies and Chocolate Espresso Snowcaps. I was a baking machine. Thanks to Brian for multiple trips to the store to pick butter, nuts, snickers and more butter.

7. A huge congrats to my sister and her husband who gave birth to their second child, a daughter, today. At just an ounce shy of 10 pounds I'm pretty sure my sister is some kind of Superwoman for pushing that baby out without a single drop of pain relief! I used to feel proud of myself for doing it with an 8 pound, 11 ounce baby but I got nothing on her.

Two Things Overheard this Weekend

2011-12-12T10:16:00.000-06:00

After baking cookies I let the kids lick frosting off a spoon.

Me to Lucy: Do you want some frosting?

Lucy: I want some frosting! And you want some frosting and William want some frosting and Daddy want some frosting...and...Katherine want frosting on your boobies?

[By the way, I don't ever remember using the word "boobies" around her. I have no idea where she got that.]

While cleaning up the kitchen after dinner I sent William into the living room to finish a reindeer picture he had been coloring. Katherine was laying next to him on the sofa. When I finished cleaning I went to pick up Katherine and noticed two big, brown marker lines on her forehead.

Me: William! Did you color on Katherine's head?

William: [calmly] Yeah, Mom. She needed some eyebrows.

I'm really, really, really kicking myself for not taking a picture but it was requiring all of my effort not to laugh because I knew if I did this would be a repeat offense.

7 Quick Takes [12.9.11]

2011-12-09T09:00:00.002-06:00

1. I just realized my 7 Quick Takes from last week didn't post for some reason. So you get a two-for-one this week. I posted last week's below. Darnit.

2. This year we decided to partake in Elf on the Shelf. Google it if you don't already know what I'm talking about. I debated for a long time whether or not we should do this and have declined doing so in previous years but this year I hopped on board. It's actually been a lot of fun for adults and kids alike. I'll try to post more on the decision-making behind this as well as some photos of our elf's clever hiding spots.

3. Does anyone have a good make-up/cream/concealer recommendation for undereye circles? I used to have one. It was called sleep. But sleep is in short supply around here.

4. I should note, after that, that sleep isn't all that much of an issue around here. I'm not walking around like a zombie or anything. It's just that I guess I kind of got used to this lingering sleepy feeling all the time. I just pick myself up and keep going.

Remember in high school or college when you would sit in class with your eyes half closed and then you'd run into your friends in the hall and you'd say, "I'm SOOOOO tired today." We had no fricken clue what we were talking about.

I also have this mean-spirited feeling of wanting to reach through my computer screen and strangle anyone who makes a Facebook status update having to do with how tired they feel. Especially if I know them well enough to know for a fact they don't have just cause to make that complaint.

For the kidless and empty-nesters reading this, enjoy your 8-10 uninterrupted hours tonight.

5. I had my first major encounter with the ice this winter and boy was it a doosie. I had been cleaning all day and didn't have time to make a full dinner so I threw some noodles at the kids and went out to grab take-out for Brian and me. I chose D'Amico on Grand Avenue. Those of you who live in the Twin Cities will nod with me in agreement when I say that the middle of Grand Avenue is the last place you want to find yourself on your arse. Not only is it unsafe because of it's high traffic but it's also extremely humbling because of it's high pedestrian traffic. Ouch to the knee and ouch to the pride. The chocolate torte fared OK in the fall though so all is still right in the world.

6. I'm getting ready for my annual cookie marathon this weekend. I usually make 6-7 different batches of cookies and then deliver them to my neighbors and bring them to all our celebrations. I'm really having to force myself to get into it this year but I think once I get going I'll start to enjoy it. And all the while I'm baking I'll be remembering what it looked like last year during my baking spree.

7. And finally I had to post these picture of William and Lucy [and Brian] running through the sprinkler in their clothes after mass one Sunday. Because (1) I was going through all my 2011 photos recently and forgot about this batch. (2) It warms me up. It was the last REALLY hot and humid day of the year. And that day occurred in September. Just three months ago. And now we have snow. Piles of it. (3) And finally, because my kids are gorgeous. But that's just me, their mom, talking.

Season's First Snow

2011-12-06T15:54:00.000-06:00

This weekend we had our first real snowfall. Real, meaning, it stuck and judging by the 10-day forecast, it isn't going anywhere anytime soon.

The beginning of any season is so much fun. The outdoor activities are fresh. Sledding?! We haven't been sledding since March! And it's still [kind of] fun to go through the painstaking process of finding all the snowpants, hats, mittens, scarves and boots.

But my favorite part of the beginning of each new season is that each child is a whole year older. They have a whole new excitement about the snow. They have a different level of expertice and indepence. Last year I broke my back trying to get the kids dressed for snow play. This year William does it all on his own without any help. Last year Lucy could barely walk through the backyard with all her gear on. This year she's throwing snowballs with the big boys.

I'm sad I'll be stuck inside with a newborn for most of this winter while the rest of my family rumbles and tumbles outside.

But I also know that next year I'll have a cute little one-year-old snowbunny to pull around on the sled. And it will all be brand new for her.

7 Quick Takes [12.2.11]

2011-12-02T13:30:00.003-06:00

1. Update on my swelling situation I told you about a few weeks ago. The swelling is still there at five, almost six, weeks postpartum. I was able to slide my ring off one day a couple weeks ago but it then took a lot of olive oil and grunting to get it back on again. I did some Google research and all this week I've been drinking a lot of water trying to over-hydrate my body. Apparently that can sometimes do the trick. But you guys, it's super hard to remember to drink all that water when I'm dealing with a 3-ring circus at any given second. I wish I could just hook myself up to an IV.

2. I'm struggling to get myself into the Advent season right now. All the shopping and decorating and baking and celebrating feels a bit overwhelming to me right now. My sister-in-law, who had her third baby in October of last year, told me the same thing happened to her last Christmas. I guess a new baby really brings out the bah-humbug in me.

3. Our toy room looks like hurricane force winds whipped through it right now. I told William that before Christmas we're going to go through all his toys and decide which ones we can give away, throw away and keep. He told me I can give everything away except his lightsaber and Vtech; his two favorite birthday gifts. But what's a mom to do? I know that he's probably right. The kid really could care less about toys. He's all about books and games and puzzles and outdoor play. But I don't think I can part with his toys. Some are too sentimental and some I wonder if the younger kids will play with someday. OMG! Am I hoarding?!

4. This morning Brian and I toured the school where William will most likely attend kindergarten through eighth grade. Yep, we're there already.

5. For quite some time now I've been growing out my hair. If you've known me IRL for any length of time you know that my hair has almost always been shoulder-length or shorter. But I needed a change and since I didn't want to go any shorter, I decided to go longer. It's just now finally reached a length where I can start thinking about giving it some curl. I'm talking real tendrils here. So I gave it a try last week when I had the time. When Brian came home he, who never notices ANY change, could not get enough of it. He told me I looked like a country music star. I'm not exactly sure what that means but he definitely said it with a positive tone so that must mean it looked pretty good. So there ya go, ladies. If you want your man to notice you, get out your curling irons. You're welcome.

6. I have my first real out-of-the-house date tomorrow and it's with my girlfriends. I could not be more excited! I really hate being away from my babies during the newborn stage but I know a few hours will do me good. Plus there's a side of me that has great satisfaction in knowing that Brian will get a small taste of what I deal with on a daily basis. He'll need to dust out the cobwebs on the multi-tasking part of his brain. Do guys even have that part in their brain? That's not a dig. It's an honest question.

7. All three of my kids are sleeping AT THE SAME TIME right now so I think I'm going to go join them. I took a quick nap yesterday and it was amazing what a little shuteye did for my mood. Have a good weekend everyone!

A Post in Pictures

2011-12-01T14:29:00.002-06:00

There's been a case of no pictures around this blog lately so I'm going to post a few now to satisfy the grandparents that might frequent this site.

Here is the semi-decent picture I got of the three kids in their Thanksgiving clothes. Lucy had lost her tights by this point by who's counting? Katherine looks like she's still sceptical that these two rascals are supposed to be her siblings.

This was the kid's table at Brian's parent's house. This picture is four short. There are 10 grandchildren on the Nash side now and currently no one is pregnant. But I wouldn't hold my breath on that status for long! Nashes like to procreate. It's what we do best.

This is what our adult Thanksgiving table looked like complete with Brian's Scotch glass making a cameo. Wouldn't it be fun if every one posted a picture of their Thanksgiving tables? On my side we have to use folding banquet tables and a basement to hold everyone. On Brian's side, his mom whips out her best linens and China and we sit in the formal dining room that gets used a handful of times a year. It's all so different and all so special at the same time.

We have reached a victorious milestone when traveling to Brian's parent's house for holidays. More than half of the grandchildren are now old enough to sleep on mattresses in the basement ALL BY THEMSELVES! The days of having four kids under the age of two were not that long ago and we used to dream about being able to do this. Now the pre-grandchildren days of the adults staying up too late and drinking too much have returned!

Love this picture of Papa reading to his Lizzy and his Lucy! Brian's dad is going through chemo and radiation treatments right now so pictures of him that don't have sickness written all over his face are a happy sight to behold.

Nothing of note in this picture. Just my little p'kin with a too-big bow snuggled up with her Daddy in coordinating Christmas colors.

These two. **Sigh** They're so hot and cold right now. One minute they're arch enemies, the next they're BFFs. On my cleaning day I caught them in the middle of some fantastical pretend play that required them to hide under this table. The next minute they were hopping from coffee table to pillow to sofa trying to escape a menacing shark. After that Lucy was a princess trapped in a tower on the top of their bunk beds. When things are good, they're really good. But when they're bad...well, you know. Note to self: try to capture more of the good times. Maybe then they'll forget about their mom who screamed at them during all the bad times.

These next few pictures I shot from my phone so forgive the quality.

Oh baby Kaf-rine! Maybe she'll hate me for this one day but I had to show you just how bad her baby acne had gotten. And I can only show you this now after it has (mostly) cleared up.

Ahh...that's better. And yay for sisters-in-law who spent money on cute newborn clothes and then passed them down to me!

Katherine is smiling all the time now. I've never had a baby who smiles this easily. She wakes up, she smiles. She eats, she smiles. You talk to her, she smiles. You sing to her, she smiles. Of course the tough part is capturing a picture of it because by the time I get the camera focused she becomes too entranced by the red of the flash charge light. But here I caught her at the tail end of a giant grin.

We've been having a lot of fires lately. They're so cozy and they really warm up our living room and it gives our boiler and radiators a break. I think this year we're going to pay for regular wood delivery so that we stop wasting our bucks on the gas station bundles that are very low quality. Who knew there was a quality factor when it came to firewood?

But fire or no fire the real reason I posted this picture is because every time I walk past our fireplace I can't get over the fact that there are three stockings hanging there. I guess it's not the number that gets me. Three isn't all that many. I'm the eldest of three. Three is manageable. It's that there's ALREADY three stockings. I remember being six years old and having a new baby brother. But my mom seemed old. Sorry, mom! But you know what I mean. My mom was also 30 when she had her third and now here I am in the exact same place. All these milestones -- marriage, first baby, second baby, third baby -- seem to have happened in a blink. Three kids. Three kids! THREE KIDS! Holy crap! We have three kids! It never ceases to astound me.

7 Quick Takes [11.25.11]

2011-11-25T08:00:00.007-06:00

1. I'm writing this on Wednesday and scheduling it to post on Friday because I'm super organized and prepared like that. Not really. But doing this makes me feel better about my chaotic life right now.

2. Last night as I was laying in bed waiting for sleep to come I was thinking about how Katherine, William and Brian all have birthdays in sequential months (October, November, December) and how me and Lucy have birthdays in sequential months (March, April) and how maybe the next baby will have a February or May birthday and then we'll be even. And as I was dreaming of the next baby I stopped myself. Because this nice little rainbows and unicorns dream I was having came on the heels of a really tough day. A day that consisted of a lot of screaming. And some of those screams came from me. Not one of us managed to get out of our pajamas for the entire day. And perhaps that was the problem to begin with. But whatever it was, it was a tough day. What is it about the quiet of the night that erases all the bad of the day? So much so that it had me thinking how nice it would be to add a fourth baby to this circus.

3. What I realized in the mess that was yesterday was that we are family that functions best on routine. And when our routine is disrupted by things like a Thanksgiving holiday week, we kind of don't know what to do with ourselves. That coupled with my limited ability to get out of the house means we've got a full-fledged disaster on our hands. Needless to say, I'm not really looking forward to December, save for the fact that Brian has a lot of vacation hours to burn before the new year.

4. Some of you may have seen a call for help I put out on Facebook and Twitter last week regarding Katherine's nonstop crying between the hours of eight and ten every night. I'm happy to report that no such crying has occurred since then. I didn't really change anything. Instead I think it's that well-known phenomenon of once you declare something a problem to a large number of people it ceases being a problem anymore. It's similar to the phenomenon of bringing your child into the doctor with a raging fever only to find that the fever no longer exists at the doctor's office. And also the phenomenon of that weird sound your car makes whenever you drive it except for when you drive it to your mechanic's shop.

5. Last night Katherine slept from 10:30 to 4 AM, woke briefly to eat, then slept until 7 AM, woke briefly to eat again and then slept again until 10 AM. SCORE!

6. For the first time ever I didn't make a cake for William's birthday. Instead I sent Brian to the store on Sunday to order a superhero cake that I would then pick up the next day; his birthday. But when he got to the store he took it upon himself to decide that the cakes were too much of a ripoff. So instead he bought four cupcakes that were decorated with a fall theme. Nothing says happy birthday to a five-year-old boy like a cornucopia on a cupcake. Truth be told William didn't really care and Brian insists this is a better and more funny story to tell in a few years when he's older. I'm still a little sad that his fifth birthday pictures will forever show him blowing out his candles that were stuck into frosting made into a scarecrow, ears of corn and pumpkins.

7. Happy Thanksgiving! Belated at this point, I know. But it's only Wednesday morning for me so I've still got tons of cooking, loads of laundry and plenty of packing in my future before we hit the road to Nana and Papa's. Safe travels to all of you!

When You Turned 5

2011-11-23T10:05:00.003-06:00

When you turned five...

...your favorite things were superheros and Star Wars.

...your favorite movie was Short Circuit.

...your favorite books were Dad's old Calvin and Hobbes comics.

...your favorite playmate was the little girl across the alley.

...we called you the baby whisperer for always calming your littlest sister.

...your best friend was Lucy. She was also simultaneously your worst enemy.

...your favorite food was spaghetti with meatballs.

...you also loved edamame. You called them "popper peas" because of the way they pop out of their pods.

...you were constantly taking bites out of the fruit in the centerpiece fruit bowl because of your deep love for all things fruit.

...you slept on the top bunk.

...your favorite place to go was school.

...you were thisclose to reading.

...you had already been riding a two-wheeler for quite some time.

...I finally let you cross the street all on your own. Sometimes.

...you still needed an afternoon nap every once in a while.

...you had a fierce discipline for always remembering to say your prayers.

...your favorite toy was anything resembling a weapon.

...you had a crazy amazing (photographic?) memory for remembering things like the garage code and Papa's iPad password after only watching it be entered once.

...you could never sit still.

...you liked to talk. A lot.

...you wanted nothing to do with arts and crafts.

...you loved playing the piano, guitar and singing into the microphone with Dad.

...you were my biggest helper and most needy child all at the same time.

...you were already planning for the next baby the day after Katherine came home.

...we couldn't believe you were such a big kid.

....we sometimes forgot that you were still a little kid.

...we couldn't believe it had been five years since we were rushing to the hospital, a month too early, just two days before Thanksgiving, to give birth to the most beautiful baby boy the world had ever seen.

Happy 5th Birthday, William!

[Two days too late. But that's what happens when you're the oldest of three. You're always waiting. Just ask me.]

Potty Training Secrets

2011-11-19T11:34:00.000-06:00

Warning: This post might make you hate me. I know it would have made me feel that way two and a half years ago while I was potty training William. So while you're reading this please remember two things. One, no kid is ever the same when it comes to potty training. And two, I had a hell of a time potty training William so I deserve this mom victory.

For months now I've been saying that Lucy is potty-trained but that we have yet to actually forgo diapers and put real underwear on her. As of the last week I've proven myself correct. She came down with a wicked case of diaper rash a couple weeks ago. Nothing was helping. So as a last effort I decided it was time to ditch the diapers.

Before I tell you how Lucy came to be potty-trained so quickly and so easily you need to know some things about me. First, I hate parenting books. Or, most parenting books, I should say. I do like parenting books that include factual information, research and scientific findings. It's the how-to parenting books that turn me off. I don't like their one-size-fits-all approach and I don't think any of their "methods" are realistic in the long term. If you have found this not to be the case, I'm really happy for you. But it isn't for me. Each of my kids is drastically different than the next and I've had to figure out what sort of parenting style is going to work best for them.

Which brings me to my next point. I'm not a "method" parent. So I don't use sticker charts (exception noted here) or reinforcement or rewards with any consistency. Of course I've had my moments where a bribe does the trick because I just don't have time to deal with whatever it might be. You might argue that not being consistent is confusing to children. But I would argue that this is the real world.

So here's the deal with Lucy. When she turned two she started going poop in the toilet all on her own. She would say, in her sing-song voice, "I have to go pot-ty!" And we'd run her to the toilet where she'd do her biz-ness. (By the way she never actually went potty, just the number two.) Obviously she needed help getting undressed and things of that nature but by and large, this was an idea she had all on her own. Now she goes poop on the toilet about 80% of the time. The other 20% are when she's stayed in her bed too long after nap or in the morning.

Now common sense says I should have taken this as my cue to commence potty training and ran with it. Except for one huge hurdle. I was pregnant. We live in a 90-year-old home that does not have a main floor bathroom. Hauling my huge butt up the stairs every time she had to go (which, for a two-year-old, is all. the. time.) wasn't happening. So I kind of ignored it. She continued to go poop on the toilet but never potty. I was her biggest potty training enemy. You're thinking I should write my own parenting book aren't you?

So fast-forward to today where I am no longer pregnant and am now looking for a great cardio workout to get rid of the baby weight. The stairs!

The first thing I had to teach Lucy was what potty was. Up until this point she thought going poop was the same as going potty. So I went to the bathroom first and showed her how to make the "tinkle noise." I lead a glamorous life, I know. Then we clapped and cheered for mommy. Now it was Lucy's turn. We played a game where we're really quiet and we're waiting and listening for Lucy to make the tinkle noise. When she did it I put on my most shocked/surprise/happy/proud/glad face and clapped my hands. She thought that was a hoot!

She stayed dry all day Sunday save for nap and bed. On Monday morning she had three accidents and I was almost ready to throw in the towel. On the third accident she was really wet and she was whining and begging me to take her clothes off. She hated being wet. So I knew we had reached milestone. As she was standing in the tub while I pulled off her wet pants she looked at me and said, "I not do dat evah a-gin!"

I laughed but I should have known better. She's been going on 16-years-old since the day she was born. She wasn't making anything up. She was serious. Today is Saturday and she's been dry since Monday morning. Zero accidents.

Obviously I'm sure she'll still have an accident here and there but the big stuff is done. She knows how to hold it. She knows when she has to go. And she knows when to tell me she has to go.

As I said, nothing is one-size-fits-all when it comes to potty-training but here are some tips I can offer up after potty-training two kids. I hope at least one tip is a light bulb moment for you. Please share your mom victories with me when they happen!

Your child should be at least somewhat interested. Don't listen to the experts tell you they need to have a dry diaper for long periods of time and blah blah blah. Lucy's diapers were ALWAYS soaked because that's all she knew how to do. But if you're finding it's a power struggle to get your kid to sit on the toilet, he/she probably isn't ready.
You need to be ready! The saying if mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy also applies here. If mom isn't ready to potty train, then it won't work. You'll get bored/frustrated/angry. You need to be excited and you need to be ready to work. You're going to have to run to the bathroom at the least opportune times and you're going to have to be happy about it.
For at least the first day set a potty timer and have your child go every so many minutes. This isn't potty-trained but rather clock-trained or go-when-my-mom-says trained. But at least it gives your child an initial taste of success.
Once you think your child understands the concept of going potty let them tell you when they have to go. Turn off the TV and other things that could distract them from paying attention to their body. Let them have accidents and let them feel what it's like to be wet and cold. By the way, if your child doesn't seem to notice when he/she has an accident or has constant accidents without caring, this probably means that they aren't ready or even more so that they don't yet have the physical ability to hold it.
Even though I let Lucy tell me when she has to go, we still have routine times when she has to try to go. Those times include: first thing in the morning, before nap, after nap and before bath/bed. And also whenever we are about to leave the house. I don't make her go, I just make her try.
Being able to leave the house is probably the biggest hurdle to overcome. Someone gave me this tip a while back and I love it! When you leave the house put a diaper or pull-up on your child over his/her underwear. This way they will still feel if they've had an accident but you won't have a giant mess on your hands. I remember this worked wonders with William because he would start to go and then quickly stop and tell me he needed to use the bathroom.
Nighttime potty training or naptime potty training will take longer. Sometimes A LOT longer. Be OK with this. If your child insists on not wearing a diaper to bed try it and see what happens. If you're washing the sheets every day then try to change things up. Put underwear on over their diaper or instead of diapers try calling them sleep underwear.
And finally, here's my number one tip. When you're child goes potty be happy and proud. But when they have an accident be completely neutral. Don't act mad or sad or disappointed. Don't even say things like, "That's OK." Act like you couldn't care in the least. Don't say a word. Just move on. No reaction is the best reaction. I did the complete opposite with William and trust, it benefits NO ONE.

Alright veteran parents, it's your turn. What other tips would you offer up?

7 Quick Takes [11.18.11]

2011-11-18T14:59:00.001-06:00

1. You may be noticing a severe drought of baby pictures around these parts. A severe case of baby acne is to blame. When we went to church on Sunday a few of the regular parishioners we see every Sunday morning came up to congratulate us on Katherine's arrival. Brian was holding her with a blanket strategically placed to cover her face. Sorry, Katherine! I'm sure it will clear up very soon. In the meantime she's under wraps as I'm sure many teenagers wish they could have done during their Proactiv years.

2. We got a Costco membership! With the arrival of #3 Brian convinced me it was the right move. I'm still unsure if it's saving us a ton of money but I do know buying in bulk is definitely saving us trips to the store. What are your favorite things to buy at Costco or any wholesale club?

3. Last night I only had Lucy and myself to cook dinner for as William was out with Brian. I was feeling a little run down so I decided it would be a pancake dinner night. Don't you love having pancakes as an option for dinner? The kids think it's totally awesome and I always have the ingredients for pancakes on hand. Last night I made cornmeal pancakes so I think that means I hit all the food groups. Corn for the fruit or veggie, milk in the mix for dairy, an egg for the meat group and flour for the grain group. Totally a complete meal, right?

4. As I was making said pancakes I went to get the carton of cornmeal on the bottom shelf of my pantry/cupboard. I scooped down and accidentally grabbed the carton by the top which instantly slipped off sending the carton of cornmeal to the floor. It landed right side up! I made sure to offer up a quick prayer of thanks that I wasn't going to be spending the next ten minutes cleaning up cornmeal all over the floor. It's the little things that can really make or break your day, isn't it?

5. Continuing with the pancake theme, did you know that it wasn't until a few months ago that I realized that syrup brands like Aunt Jemima or Eggo aren't actually maple syrup at all? They're actually high fructose corn syrup with maple flavoring added. And I would consider myself pretty informed when it comes to food and ingredients. But I guess we don't eat enough syrup around here for me to even think to check the ingredients. When I realized what was in our current bottle I went out and bought the real stuff at Trader Joe's. It's definitely not cheap but oh my can I tell the difference! And I can justify the cost difference because with 100% pure maple syrup you don't have to use nearly as much.

6. My potty training post is still coming. I say this because I know a lot of you asked about it when I mentioned it in my last post. Although I have to warn you, you might hate me when I write what I write. It was just so easy. And if it were me, reading what I'm going to write about Lucy while I was potty-training William, well, I might have wanted to punch my future self in the face. William was very difficult to potty train. But maybe it was that experience that made Lucy so much easier. Anyway I'll explain how it all went down with her soon.

7. There's snow in the forecast tomorrow! Just seven months ago the s-word made me cringe. Made me hate where I live. Made me want to whine and cry. But now we're excited! It's how we Northerners roll.

Want more Quick Takes? Check out it here!

Co-Sleeping Nonsense

2011-11-16T09:58:00.001-06:00

Today I had a whole post ready about potty-training and about how after a couple of hours Lucy was done. Easy peasy. And that post will still come. Hopefully.

But instead this story about the dangers of co-sleeping got me all hot and bothered and I had to comment.

I would be the first to admit that I'm not the best advocate for co-sleeping with your baby. I don't love co-sleeping. But then again, I also don't love co-sleeping with Brian every night. I love Brian and we always sleep in the same bed. I especially love his electric blanket-like qualities in the cold months. But I would be lying if I didn't say that every once in a while I enjoy the nights when I go to bed before him or he's out of town. I like to spread out and use all the pillows. It all comes from a selfish place. This I know.

Within a few hours after her birth, Katherine was snuggled up next to me in my hospital bed. In fact, she barely took residence in her hospital crib for our entire stay. The first night we were home, I bypassed the crib without much thought and brought her into bed with us. For the whole night.

People are surprised when I say that Katherine pretty much sleeps through the night. Co-sleeping is the only answer to this. She does nurse here and there throughout the night but she never fully wakes up. And if she never fully wakes up that means I never have to fully wake up either. This is why co-sleeping is beneficial for us. I am always acutely aware of her presence and as soon as I hear those first few grunts I instantly begin nursing her. She eats for a few minutes before she quickly falls back into her deep sleep. All without any crying.

Once she's out of the newborn stage I will probably try to introduce crib-sleeping during the night (she already naps beautifully in her crib during the day) to see if she's ready to sleep at great lengths without eating. But this is my personal approach. I do know the benefits of co-sleeping past the newborn stage but, as I said, I don't love co-sleeping and it's usually by month four when I'm ready to have my space back. However, I completely support women who can go longer.

So when I saw another campaign using fear mongering and scare tactics to sway parents out of doing something that comes natural to them, something that they know is best for their family, I get angry.

I'm tried of feeling bad for sleeping with my newborn.

I'm tired of feeling dirty for putting my baby to sleep on anything but her back.

I'm tired of feeling embarrassed to say that all my children have tasted milk, peanut butter and honey before the age of one.

I'm tired of feeling naive for not using gates in front of our stairs, locks on our cabinets or anchors on our walls.

I'm tired of feeling negligent for using a drop-side crib.

I'm just so tired of public service campaigns that aim to tell me they are better parents than me.

A well-known medical correspondent on The Today Show was quoted as saying that "co-sleeping leads to infant death."

Are you serious?

That's like saying driving a car leads to car accidents.

Of course bad stuff happens. Stuff that can be parent's worst nightmare. But I have news for you. Bad stuff happens all the time no matter how many warnings we put out there.

My dad died 17 years ago while enjoying a sunny Fourth of July jet ski ride with his seven-year-old son on a beautiful Minnesota lake.

Do you know how many times I've ridden on a jet ski since his accident?

Too many times to count!

Because I know it was an isolated incident. Something that happens to only a rare minority. An exceeding majority enjoy a fun and safe ride on a jet ski. Just like co-sleeping.

But more than that I ride on jet skis because I choose to live my life without fear and in a way that celebrates life. In a way that is good for me. Good for my baby and good for my family.

Only mothers that have ever co-slept next to their babies can describe the type of heightened sense of awareness that comes with their baby's presence. I would categorize it as one of those super-natural maternal powers. It's like I'm asleep but I'm still constantly aware that my tiny newborn daughter is right there next to me.

But besides that I'm also aware of REAL research that shows all the benefits of co-sleeping with your newborn. Benefits that include regulated breathing, heart rate and body temperature. Lower stress levels and a stronger mother-child bond. REAL research shows statistics that are far more in favor of co-sleeping than against it. REAL research does not include a few gut-wrenching anecdotal stories.

Co-sleeping might not be for everyone. But for God's sake you shouldn't not co-sleep with your baby out of fear!

The real problem with parents today isn't that they've gone soft on discipline. Or that they're too digitally connected. Or that there isn't enough time. Or money. Or that there's no respect. Or manners. The real problem is that every one else is trying to be the parent except the actual parent. We've let doctors and authors and teachers and "experts" and now ad campaigns tell us what's best for our children. We've forgotten to listen to the best expert of all. Our own parental instincts.

7 Quick Takes [11.11.11]

2011-11-11T08:00:00.000-06:00

1. I've decided to start participating in 7 Quick Takes which will take place (inconsistently) on Fridays. It originally was created by the author of Conversion Diary and a few of the other bloggers I read also participate. You might remember me writing a few of these in the past. I've realized, of late, that I have a lot of things to say and a lot of questions to ask but not really enough time to devote a separate blog post to each and every one. I used to think these kinds of posts were like cheating; like a writer who couldn't organize her thoughts. But who am I kidding? With three kids that's exactly who I am! So I'm going to embrace it. And besides, I've found that these are actually some of my favorite posts to read on other blogs. Hopefully you'll find it likewise.

2. Let's talk about swelling and post-pregnancy. Here's the thing: my shoes fit again (yay!) but I still can't remove my wedding band. At the end of August I put my wedding ring away and opted to only wear my wedding band for the remainder of my pregnancy. Even though the two are the same size my wedding band has always been more loose around my finger -- perhaps because it's cheaper? Anyway as my pregnancy neared its end my fingers swelled so bad I could no longer remove my band at the end of the day. I thought this would clear up within the first week following Katherine's birth but here I am nearly three weeks later with the band still stuck on my finger. Should I be worried? Has anyone else had this problem?

3. Our church, which is just a block from our house, has perpetual Eucharistic adoration and this past weekend Brian and I signed up to be weekly dedicated adorers. We signed up for the midnight to 1 a.m. slot on Sunday nights; technically Monday mornings. We figured we're usually up with one of our children at that hour anyway so we might as well make good use out of it. Do you think it's OK to bring a newborn into the adoration chapel even if she's fussy or might need to nurse? I mean I'm sure Jesus wouldn't mind, of course, but I want to respect the other adorers who might be there looking for some quiet time. What do you think?

4. Talking about adoration reminds me of the time when a then three-year-old William asked me if God and prayers were magic. To a three-year-old I'm sure the whole thing does seem like magic. Of course, I know it's not. But it really is all kind of magical, isn't it?

5. Staying on topic of "The Funny Things William Says," the other day we were driving in the car and he told me I was his best, best, best, best, best ever. I think there might have been 18 more bests included in the quote. He didn't exactly explain what kind of "Best" list I had been ranked #1 in so I asked him what #2 was. Noodles. Just so we're clear, I'm number one and noodles are number two. I'm sure God and country follow shortly thereafter.

6. I'm having an email dilemma. As I said a few months ago, I finally got with the times and upgraded to a smart phone. (Which, by the way, ended up being a cheaper plan than my old phone. Who knew?!) So now that I have this smart phone at the tips of my fingers I rarely check my email account on the computer. Instead I read my emails on my phone and respond immediately, if need be, or delete it. In fact, I don't think I've opened Outlook since before Katherine was born. I'm pretty certain my computer would blow up if I make it download the 1,000+ emails. (No, I don't have that many friends. Just a lot of subscriptions to Groupon and CrowdCut and LivingSocial and Totsy and Zulily.) So here's my question: Do you think email is becoming obsolete? Are you more likely to bypass email to use text messaging or Facebook to get in touch with friends and family? Besides calling immediate family members, I know those are the only methods we used to announce Katherine's birth. Maybe I should just do away with the stress it takes to maintain my email folders. But then again, there's always going to be that one person who insists on using VHS when everyone else has DVDs.

7. It's finally on the chilly side here which means the radiators are fired up, the feather bed is on and the cinnamon candles are burning. It's cozy times like these when I'm so glad I live in Minnesota and get to fully experience each individual season. I know I'll be singing a different tune come February but for now I'm going to hunker down and soak it in.

The Three Problems with Katherine

2011-11-09T16:18:00.002-06:00

(I seemed to be having comment issues with the last post. I'm hoping it's all cleared up now but email me at jenny at mamanash dot com if you're having problems.)

Problem #1: Katherine only likes to nurse on one side. And because I've only pumped three times and have never given her a bottle, thing are a bit, shall we say, lopsided. I'm hoping this is something she'll outgrow.

Problem #2: Katherine likes to laugh in the face of death and seems to have a general goal of surviving in spite of doing the exact opposite of everything the Back to Sleep campaign set out to promote. Which is OK because I'm not a big believer in the Back to Sleep campaign anyway. See here.

She sleeps best:
(a) on her side.
(b) on a pillow.
(c) with a blanket by or lightly covering the side of her face.
(d) in bed with me and Brian for at least half the night. (More on co-sleeping in a later post.)

Problem #3: The biggest problem we're facing with Katherine is that she seems to be channeling Mr. T.

Does anyone know where I might find a newborn-sized gold chain?

Or a gremlin.

Lucky for her I bid on the cutest little handmade knit hat at an auction recently and won.

Ahh...that's better.

We're thankful she was born during the cooler months when wearing a hat 24/7 isn't suspect and we can cover up those locks until they figure out what they want to do. She'll thank me when she's older.

Three

2011-11-05T10:21:00.001-05:00

The question I get asked most now that Katherine has arrived is how life has changed now that we have three children. Now that we are outnumbered.

The truth is that it isn't all that bad. Of course I need to caveat that by saying that the only factor affecting the success of my days is the expectations I set for it. And my expectations are pretty low. My what a low bar you have! All the better to hurdle you with, my dear!

When Lucy was born I had a tough transition going from one child to two. Every mother has her own toughest transition in number of children and for me Lucy was it. I found it difficult to split my time between children equally. William is not a very independent child so he still needed me for a lot of the day-to-day stuff. It also didn't help that Lucy was a horrible sleeper at night which meant I was running on fumes during the day.

But the biggest thing I had going against me when Lucy was born was that my expectations were much too high. I thought I could carry on with life in the same way I did with one child. I thought two kids would be a piece of cake. After all, I was a nanny for many years and was able to successfully manage a lot more than two kids. But being someone's babysitter and being someone's mom are two drastically different responsibilities.

So with that experience under my belt, I reset my expectations in preparation for Katherine's arrival.

Last Thursday Brian went back to work for the second half of the day. It was nice outside so the older kids were playing in the backyard before lunch. Their food was ready but I figured I would let them burn off some energy so I could get some good naps out of them. Katherine started to fuss so I sat down to nurse her. As she was chugging away I heard a blood-curdling shrill scream come out of Lucy. I raced to the back door and stepped outside to see what was going on. Instead of finding a severed limb, as one might have expected with a scream like that, I saw her brother tantalizing her with a rake. It was then that I realized I had just step outside with half of my chest hanging out for all the neighbors to see while Katherine was still munching.

I walked back inside and laughed at myself. "So this is how it's going to be," I told myself. Life, full of hilarious and obscene moments just like this. All the better to blog with!

I would offer two pieces of advice for moms of new babies in the transitional time period. The first, as I said, is to reset your expectations. Think about what you want to happen and then lower the bar at least a couple of notches. For example, I'll tell myself, "Today I would like to get two loads of laundry done, clean the bathroom and cook dinner. But if I only cook dinner, I will be satisfied."

The second bit of advice I would offer is to get up every day and try to "look like a person." I use this phrase a lot and Brian always laughs at me. Looking like a person means to put forth an appearance that resembles one before you had the baby. For me that means hair that's combed and somehow "done" (a ponytail totally equals "done" by the way), a couple swipes of a bronzer and a dab of mascara. On a really good day "looking like a person" means I'll turn on the television and baby swing for a half hour so I can take a shower. Just this little bit of effort seems to make me feel more capable the whole day through.

If your house has less than three children you might walk into our home and think, "What the heck were Brian and Jenny thinking?!"

It's true. It's pretty much always a three-ring circus around here. There's always dishes in the sink and the sofa pillows are always askew. Someone is always screaming or yelling or needing a new diaper. I'd still like to think it's organized chaos, but chaos nonetheless. We didn't sign up for this blindly. We knew what we were getting into and we like it this way. To us, a house full of chaos equals a house full of joy, full of life. It's what we've always wanted since before we got married. It's not a life all people are called to but it is one we feel called to.

People are also continuing to ask us if we are going to have more children. And amid all the busy-ness, adding more children to the mix doesn't sound all that bad or impossible. I look at Katherine and think, "Is this the last newborn I'll have?" I really hope not. But thankfully it's not a bridge we have to cross right now.

So when I get that question, I smile and respond with a wink, "Maybe. But not tomorrow." One day at a time.

A Scene from Week One

2011-10-30T13:13:00.000-05:00

This is my favorite photo from Katherine's first week.

This was our first night home from the hospital and what struck me right away was that when you have a third child your older two expect business as usual. So there was a normal dinner with all of us around the table. There were baths after dinner. There was brushing teeth and combing hair. There was lotion and jammies. And there was the bedtime story.

Katherine was awake and I was cleaning up the bathroom so I just put her on Brian's chest. I love how no one seems to think it's a big deal that there's a new audience member for our book-reading session. William is captivated by Harold and the Purple Crayon even though he's read it one thousand and one times. And Lucy, per usual, is more interested in the camera than anything else that's going on around her.

No one is paying particular attention to Katherine's presence. And it's not because she isn't special or appreciated or loved. It's because she fits so seemlessly into this house. I look at her and think, "Oh there you are!" Like she's just been missing all these years.

Katherine's Story

2011-10-27T21:19:00.000-05:00

Although Katherine was born on Sunday, her birth story really starts on Friday.

After finding out earlier in the week that I was already dilated to 5 centimeters my mood was lifted. I knew the end was near and I thought Friday was it. And if it wasn't, I was going to will myself into labor. Brian worked from home just in case. I had some light contractions begin around 3:00 p.m. It was a beautiful fall day so we walked to the playground with the kids. They played for about an hour while I soaked up the warm October sun. I was still having contractions but they were very light and very inconsistent.

After the kids were in bed we put Casino Royale in the DVD player. But I was distracted. Contractions kept coming and I kept wondering if/hoping that they would start to get stronger and closer together. My mom even wondered if she should hop in the car and drive the two hours to be here with the kids. But I told her no because I wasn't sure if this was "it." When the movie was over I decided to go to bed. If this were really "it" I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep. And when I awoke to find the Saturday morning sun greeting me in the face, I was bummed. It wasn't it.

Saturday brought absolutely nothing. And zero contractions to go with it. Brian even commented that it was the laziest Saturday ever. William had a birthday party to attend in the morning. After lunch both the kids took great naps. I layed down with William and snoozed myself. For dinner I made whole wheat pasta and turkey meatballs in marinara sauce with a side of edamame. That evening our neighbors invited the kids over for one of their movies in the backyard. I told Brian I wasn't sure if I could handle any more questions related to the end of my pregnancy so I sent him with the kids and I stayed at home and finished some loads of laundry.

When the movie was over both the kids went to bed beautifully and Brian and I began to watch the Notre Dame and Wisconsin football games that I mentioned last week. Because both of the games were on at the same time we had to DVR both channels and flip back and forth, meaning that we watched a total of eight quarters of [disappointing losses of] football. It was around midnight when finished watching both games. We decided to head to bed.

After I washed my face, brushed my teeth and removed my contacts, I slipped into my sheets with a sigh thinking how tired I was because I hadn't made it to midnight in a long time. I closed my eyes and instantly had a very strong contraction. I grabbed Brian and told him. He glanced at the clock. 12:10. I closed my eyes and fell halfway asleep. Then I was awoken by another strong contraction. I even had to breathe through this one. I told Brian. He looked at the clock. 12:20. I was disappointed. Ten minutes was too far a part. I closed my eyes again. Ten minutes later I was again awoken by a strong contraction. So strong that I grabbed Brian's arm tightly to get me through it. When it was over he hopped out of bed, threw on the lights and started putting his jeans on.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm putting my clothes on." he said. "We're going in."

"We are?" I said. It should be noted here that I never, in all my pregnancies, think I'm really in labor. Brian is always the one that has to make the final decision to go to the hospital.

"Yes, we are," he said. "I'll text your sister to come over."

He started following the list for my hospital bag and putting in the remaining items. I put my contacts back in and threw my hair up in a ponytail. While I was in the bathroom I had another big contraction and had to kneel next to the bathtub to get me through it. But when the contraction was over I felt completely fine so still, I wasn't sure this was really it.

Brian continued to pack up our stuff and call my midwife while I poured myself a glass of water in the kitchen and waited for my sister to arrive. By this time I had the full-on shakes no doubt from an adrenline rush of going to bed one minute only to realize the next that our plans for the evening would be much, much more exciting than mere sleep. I remember having a few contractions at the kitchen counter. I would lay my head on the cold granite while Brian pressed his palms into the small of my back.

At 1:21 a.m. I received a text from my sister saying she had just exited the freeway. That meant she would be there in five minutes. When she arrived I had just finished up a contraction and I asked her to remind me why I don't just take the epidural. I always have doubts about having a natural birth when I'm in labor. I think every woman must! But I powered through it.

So around 1:30 Brian and I finally hopped in the car and were off for the 10-15 minute drive to the hospital. The most entertaining part of the drive was that it was right in the middle of bar close on a Saturday night. We passed a few crazies on the way and at least one hitchhiker approaching our car right in the middle of a contraction. Brian ran a couple of red lights which was totally unnecessary but always provides for a fun extra detail to the story the next day. I think he secretly wishes he would get pulled over so that we could get a police escort to the hospital.

When we arrived at the hospital's emergency entrance I don't think the staff was fully up to speed on how far progressed I was because it took FOREVER for someone to come down and bring us up to the maternity floor. All the paramedics were gawking as I was contracting and kept offering a wheelchair.

Finally a nurse arrived and escorted me to my room where my midwife was waiting. She checked my cervix and found me to be dilated to 9 centimeters and baby's head very low. She briefly mentioned breaking my water and having me start pushing but for some reason I asked to go into the bathtub. At this point I don't think I was mentally prepared to realize that I was in full-on labor and that the end was here. So instead of pushing I went into the bathtub where I had about four more intense contractions.

After those contractions I looked up at my midwife and said, "So really you think you could just break my water and I can start pushing?"

"Yes," she said, "Why prolong the torture of contractions if you don't have to?"

So out of the tub I went and back into the bed. My midwife easily broke my water and told me I had a bit of cervix left that I would have to push through. As I pushed, she told me she was going to help move it around my baby's head. Those first couple of pushes were a real struggle because I didn't feel like I was making any progress. But once she successfully moved the cervix I could really feel baby coming and I remember taking a break before my next, and last, contraction and saying a quick prayer.

I said: Please God, give me the strength to push this baby out with the next contraction. I really want this pain to be over and I want to see this baby.
On the next contraction I held my breath and pushed with everything I had. I watched Brian's eyes get wide and listened as he told me with a confident voice that I was doing a really good job. It wasn't one of those fake tones where you know you're not really doing anything and they're just saying that to help encourage you to keep going. I knew this was for real. So I kept pushing. I felt a brief respite when the baby's head was out only to feel a bit of gloom when I realized I still had the shoulders left. So I kept pushing. And finally I felt the baby slide all the way out. Relief. Glorious relief! The pain really is 100% gone as soon as that baby is out.

2:34 a.m. As in about 40 minutes after we arrived at the hospital. I like to keep things exciting.

The midwife had to suction the baby for what seemed like forever so I yelled at Brian to tell me what it was. I felt like it took him an hour to finally look up with teary eyes and say, "It's a girl!"

A girl! Holy crap! I really thought I was having a boy. A girl!

My midwife finally put her on my chest and it was then that I got to see what a little chunk she really was. Later we would find out she was an 8 pounds, 11 ounce chunk, to be exact. She was a bit blue from being pushed out so fast, not allowing her lungs to completely clear of the amniotic fluid, but she pinked up fast. After she was pink the nurse kept rubbing her to get her to cry. After a while they realized she had no trouble breathing at all. She just wasn't crying. She was totally content just staring at her new world. And I was totally content with her in my arms.

After a few minutes I turned to Brian and said, "Hey, guess what?"

"What?"

"I'm not pregnant anymore!"

It felt so good. But not nearly as good as sleeping away the rest of the night with my new baby girl in my arms.

I admit, this picture was not taken immediately after birth but rather after I had a bit to pull myself together and apply a little mascara. Mascara--a new mom's BFF.

Oh Baby!

2011-10-24T16:37:00.000-05:00

Early Sunday morning we welcomed Katherine Elizabeth into this crazy family of ours. As much as I complained about the last few weeks of my pregnancy, I have to say, my labor, delivery and recovery has been a piece of cake. Yay for third babies!

More birth details to come. In the meantime Brian and I are enjoying our 48-hour vacation in the hospital until the reality of having three children fully engulfs us.

Here's the newest princess in our castle.

Still Minus One

2011-10-20T09:21:00.000-05:00

Greetings from the land of Still Pregnant.

I'm sure many of you assumed my absence meant baby had arrived but really it just meant I was trying to keep my crabby out of the blogosphere.

I had a mini breakdown on Sunday when every one in our family was dressed so pretty for morning mass. I had pulled together one of the last cute maternity outfits that still looks halfway decent on me only to realize I had no shoes that fit. Yeah. That's one of the things "they" forget to tell you about pregnancy. In the last few weeks your feet swell so bad many of your normal shoes leave you feeling like one of the ugly step-sisters in Cinderella. Tennis shoes and sandals are pretty much all that work. And being that temps are currently in the 40s and 50s, the latter is out of the question.

On the way out the door I glanced at myself in the dining room mirror and realized my hair looked GORG-eous. All shiny and flowy and tons of body. So there's that up side to pregnancy. And then there's my chest. My normal negative A cup is now a generous B making shirts and dresses fit like they're supposed to and making my husband eye me up like it's the first time. So it's not ALL bad.

The other day we were laughing that William knew almost all the lyrics to Katy Perry's "Teenage Dream." Well, I was laughing. Brian, being the real musician in the house, couldn't help but wonder what songs he would have memorized if he were the stay-at-home parent. But he's not. So inappropriate lyrics it is.

So anyway there Brian and I were in the kitchen finishing up the dinner dishes singing "Teenage Dream" when Brian grabbed me from behind and sang "Let you put your hands on me in your MA-TER-NITY jeans be your teenage dream tonight..."

I didn't know if I should laugh or cry. I chose to laugh.

After the dishes were done we had ourselves a little family dance party in the living room and it made me so happy to see every one having so much silly fun together. Brian was dancing with Lucy and I was dancing with William and suddenly I realized these last few days are really a treasure to behold. Soon they will outnumber us. Soon we will have to take turns doing one-on-one activities.

I think a sibling is one of the most blessed gifts you can give your older children. But initially that change comes with a lot of growing pains. And as much as you can prepare yourself and your other children for those changes, you really can't. You kind of just have to plow through it head first. And there's a part of me that's really sentimental about the loss of our one-parent-to-one-child ratio.

This week two of my sisters-in-law called and graciously offered to take William and Lucy for a four-day weekend as schools in Minnesota are on break. There's no doubt William and Lucy would be ecstatic to spend that much time with their seven cousins. And there's no doubt it would be much easier for Brian and me, especially if I went into labor during that time and didn't have to worry about finding child care.

But after thinking it over and discussing it with Brian, we both decided to decline their generous offer.

I just didn't know if I could bear to see their empty beds every night wondering if this would be my last opportunity to really devote myself to the bedtime routine. And I wasn't sure it was fair to them to leave their house for a few days only to return to drastic changes. Having a new baby is an event for the whole family and my heart just feels better with them here.

And now here I am sounding like I'm going to have this baby in the next four days. My midwife appointment yesterday left me feeling like that's a very real possibility. So real that it had Brian considering a call to the hospital to ensure they had access to the right television channels for both the Notre Dame and Wisconsin football games on Saturday. And it had me, as much a die-hard college football fan as he, questioning if that was enough. Should we request a second television so we can watch both games at once? Should we check the hospital's wireless Internet speed so we could stream one of the games? Should we look into reserving a conference room? Should we just scrap the hospital idea and consider giving birth in a sports bar?

All very good questions at the very top of our priority list.

Notes from the Land of the Quarantined

2011-10-11T10:09:00.000-05:00

Look at this! Me, posting, two days in a row! I figure if I can just start with writing about what's going on in my day-to-day life eventually some meatier posts will strike me.

The real reason I'm sitting in front of the computer at 9 o'clock on a Tuesday in my yoga pants and Brian's white undershirt, with the sun glistening in the SUPER CLEAN porch windows and a steaming cup of coffee in front of me is because we've been quarantined with croup. William comes down with croup a couple of times a year and this, apparently, is one of those times.

If I'm being honest I would tell you that it's been kind of nice to be forced to just stay put. Yesterday I put folded laundry away, made my bed, took a shower, packed a few things for my hospital bag and threw a roast in the slow cooker. That's it. William had intervals of A LOT of television-viewing and napping and Lucy had intervals of the toy room and giving me hilarious one-liners.

When Brian came home I expressed guilt about the tube being on so much but ever the realist he scoffed at that. What else was I supposed to do with a child who could barely lift his head from his pillow to acknowledge my existence? And truthfully, since school started at the beginning of September, our schedule has been so jam-packed this was the most the TV had been on in two full months.

After a night of very little sleep and a lot of labored breathing (why does croup have to be SO scary?!) William popped up from his permanent indent on the couch while we watched The Today Show this morning. I was scrolling through emails on my phone at the time so I was able to capture the moment.

I'm going to miss those sun-bleached locks this winter.

I think it's safe to say we're on the upswing from illness. But is there a way to keep the hoarse voice? Why are hoarse voices so dang cute in little kids?

Of course all this sitting still does have one major drawback. I had not a single contraction yesterday. So that is not boding well with progressing labor. But apparently all I need to do is complete a marathon to kick start things. Kudos to that woman but also a little peeved that she's making the rest of us (me) look like a bunch of whiny sloths.

Speaking of being slothful, I got a pedicure last night. I rarely get pedicures outside of the summer months but I figure the least I could do to spruce up my swollen sausages-for-feet was to give them a fresh coat of polish. It isn't exaggerating to say it was the best pedicure of my life. I wanted to adopt my pedicurist (word?) as my Asian grandmother. She took pity on my enormous cankles and gave me an extra long massage. When she finished with the first leg, the swelling difference was astounding. So now baby has a pretty set of toes to greet him/her as s/he emerges into the world. Ha!

So that's my exciting life in the past 24 hours. Tell me, what's going on with you?

Discount Announcement and Other Updates

2011-10-10T14:07:00.000-05:00

Remember when I linked to this Etsy shop last week while featuring the baby's room makeover? Well, I recently received a note from Maya, the shop's owner, letting me know she'd like to extend a discount to all Mama Nash readers. All you have to do is send her a note mentioning that you're a Mama Nash reader and she'll discount the total of whatever you'd like to purchase. She also wanted me to remind my readers that all of her work is custom made so if you're looking for modifications or have something particular in mind, don't hesitate to ask! Even if you don't have a baby or one on the way, I think these pieces make for such a unique baby gift. Happy shopping!

And now on to the state of things in this ninth month of my pregnancy.

The nesting bug hit me hard this third time around. Even I got sick of myself. I did crazy things like clean all 13 windows in our porch including removing every screen and hosing it down. I've switched all the closets over to our fall/winter clothes which included a major dump at Goodwill and a reorg of our cedar closet in the basement.

As of today I'm feeling good with every item checked off our to-do list except one. Removing the window a/c units.

Which leads me to my next update. The weather. And really, if it were any other year, you'd be seeing a ton of pictures posted here of how the kids and I are enjoying a record-setting Indian Summer that has lasted for more than a week now of temps in the upper 80s. But instead I'm Grumpy McGrumperson with my swollen feet and hands, my too-small-to-fit summer maternity clothes and my sweaty body. This was just not at all what I planned for when I pictured myself being nine-months pregnant in October.

I used to think I would be the perfect person to live in Florida or somewhere in the desert. But I've changed my mind. I need long sleeves and puffer vests and cute scarves and tall boots and hot baths before bed and snuggling under a blanket on the couch and hot lattes and crisp evenings at a football game and good things baking in my oven. I still reserve my right to complain in January, mind you, but a few 50-degree days would feel pretty nice right about now.

Today officially marks two weeks until my due date. It also marks the climax of me being a total basket case. I didn't get it with William, probably because he was born too early for it to hit, but I did get it with Lucy, who was born three days before her due date. Full-blown basket case means you would see behavior like me being completely neurotic about not finding William's belt where it should be. Or having a breakdown because I can't find anything to wear that covers my belly. Or having energy equivalent to ten manic people. Or not having the energy to stay awake past nine o'clock.

One minute I want this baby out of my body right now. The next minute I'm hoping to buy another day or two because it's just not convenient right now. This part of pregnancy is definitely not my favorite. But it's also the shortest. So I'm trying not to complain too much (not a word from you, Brian) and put it all in perspective. These last few days as a family of four are a blessing. Soon we will be a family of five and there's no going back after that.

Room Makeover: Baby's Room

2011-10-07T10:56:00.001-05:00

I finally got around to taking some new pictures of the baby's room that I think do it more justice than the previous ones I had taken. Prior to the makeover, this was William's room. It's the smallest bedroom in our house so, needing just a twin bed and a dresser, it was perfect for him. The walls used to be a medium shade of green and I actually really liked the color. But now that we've painted it a dull yellow, I like this color so much better.

This room is at the end of our hallway. The windows face East and South giving it a plethora of sunlight. It has quickly become my favorite bedroom in the house.

We spent the most money making over this room--but still only around $350 which includes the dresser, the chair, paint and new blinds. We bought the small white dresser at Ikea for around $100 and we bought the chair for around $140. I'm a veteran at this mom thing now so I didn't waste my money on a changing table that will last us two years tops. Instead I just threw a changing mat on top of the dresser.

I knew I needed some sort of a chair in this room for nursing purposes but I didn't want to spend a ton of money on a glider or any other type of chair that couldn't be easily incorporated into another room after my nursing days are over. This chair from Ikea is SO comfy. There's just enough rock in it to lull a little one to sleep. (Hopefully.) There have been a few trying days lately when Brian comes home from work to find me sitting peacefully in this chair while the kids are downstairs fighting or playing or doing something I'm trying not to pay attention to for just five minutes.

You see that white bench in the background? We have no idea what's under it! I tried to peel back a wooden plank but it wouldn't give.

So a bench it remains. For now I've decided to use it for these baskets (that I already owned) and rolled up a bunch of baby blankets to display. I'm not sure what it will become later on. Suggestions? Previously, William used it for his stuffed animals and then later as a spot to play with his beloved Batman Cave.

One of the tough things about living in a 90-year-old home is that every bedroom has a radiator that takes up wall/floor space. I actually really love having radiators as opposed to forced air. I have zero allergies in the winter and we get a lot less dust bunnies flying around. But having radiators in every room is a challenge when deciding furniture layout.

I wasn't sure where to put the crib in this room but in the end Brian convinced me to put it between the radiator and door (which is closed in this picture). He reminded me that in the winter this room gets extra cold and it would be nice to have this heat so close to the baby. And for the safety conscious, don't worry. The radiator is never too hot to touch.

The crib is a bit cluttered and unfinished at the moment until we find out baby's gender. I washed my pink and blue Pottery Barn Kids crib bumper and dust ruffle and my mom is all excited to set it up when she comes to watch the kids while I'm in the hospital.

And now for the "ahh, cute" factor. William is in the middle of a shapes/learning-to-cut-with-scissors unit at school and made this mobile. I tied a knot at the top of the yarn and hung it from the mobile my sister gifted me with way back when William was a newborn. Already William loves to stand on the stool and wind it up.

You'll notice that, other than an actual baby, this room is also missing wall decor. I'm still trying to decide exactly what to do and where to put it all. I do have a large white picture frame that currently features nine 4x6 newborn pictures of Lucy. I'll probably use that. And then I've been secretly admiring Etsy items like this or any of these. But I'm still undecided. I welcome other suggestions!

My [New] Thoughts on Comments

2011-10-04T15:01:00.000-05:00

My post about "to blog or not to blog" from yesterday garnered a lot of comments and emails from all of you begging me to stay. Thank you! But I have to put it out there that it was definitely not the point of that post.

Don't you hate it when someone says something like, "I'm so fat!" Which of course requires you to demand that they absolutely are not. I hate that. Nothing makes me want to compliment a person less than when they are fishing for a compliment. And maybe that makes me not a nice person because those are probably the people that need the most compliments. But still. I hate it when people do that.

That's my way of saying, I wasn't fishing for comments. I wasn't fishing for praise about how awesome of a blogger I am. I was sincerely trying to relieve some guilt about deserting this little space on the Internet because the truth is I do know that you're out there. I know that you're clicking mamanash.com every once in a while and I feel bad to disappoint you when the same post from last week remains at the top. I felt you deserved an explanation or at least acknowledgement. That's all.

And in receiving all your emails and comments I realized something. Comments don't mean as much to me as they used to. I need to qualify that first by saying that I do so treasure every single comment I receive. I read every single one and I try to respond to most of them. I especially love your thought-provoking comments. Comments that tell me the way you do things. Comments that give me a new perspective. I even love comments that disagree with my point-of-view. (So don't be afraid to share those.)

But I don't ever want you to feel like you owe me a comment. I've read a lot of posts about how comments are a blogger's paycheck. I used to believe that. In the past I think I've even written a few posts myself begging for comments.

I've changed my mind.

Just knowing that, in your busy schedule and of all the billions of websites to go to, you've chosen to visit me. Wow. That's so much bigger than watching my comment count go up.

Sometimes I read a book because it challenges me and makes me think. But sometimes I read a book because it's easy and not at all thought-provoking and I just want some leisure time without having to turn on the critical thinking part of my brain.

I want my blog to be a little bit of both. I want you to come here with your five minutes and your hot cup of coffee and read what I've written and not feel at all guilty about not having left a comment. I wish there were simply a button you could click at the end of each post that says "Hey, I read this!" There's probably already a plug-in for that. Maybe I'll look for one to install today.

On the other hand, if something I've written does move you, I still hope you'll comment. But only because you really want to and not because you feel you've betrayed me if you don't.

Blogging almost exactly mimics a good friendship, doesn't it? Sometimes you want to sit around and gab and gab forever. And sometimes you're just content to be silent and know that they are still there.

For Now

2011-10-03T14:36:00.000-05:00

I just looked at my photos of the re-done baby's room and realized none of them is any good. So I'll get to that makeover later. But first I need to say some words about the content of my blog. Or lack thereof as the case may be. As they say, it's not you, it's me. Brian told me today that a piece of music he recorded is getting quite a few hits on the Internet. I told him that while his numbers are rising, my blog readership has been reduced to two. One of which is him. They other of which is probably my mom. But I can't even be entirely sure about that.

Last week I wondered aloud if perhaps I was finished as a blogger. Every day when I have a free moment to sit at the computer all I can think about is finishing the laundry or organizing another drawer or sweeping away the crumbs from the floor or eating some lunch in peace or taking a nap. Anything having to do with social media these days is very low on my priority list. I've even been absent on Twitter and Facebook, which requires little, if any, creative talent. And if I can already find "better things" to do with my time now, how will it be to add another body to this household?

The answer is: I'm not sure. Brian screamed "Noooooooo!" when I mentioned closing down my blog so it's out of the question for now. But things may be a bit sporadic around here until I find my groove and get my mojo back. Here's hoping a new baby will inspire me to carve out time for lots of great writing in the months to come.

Baby time is getting close. Just a few weeks (days?!) away now. You can still expect the breaking news to be posted here as well as plenty of follow-up posts to relieve my need to brag about having the cutest baby on the block.

In the meantime, I'm still here. And if you're not, well, that's OK too. If I can't make the time to read other blogs, I certainly can't expect any different from you. Sending out lots of love anyway. My blog readers, past and present, are the world's best.

Room Makeover: Kids' Room

2011-09-27T17:56:00.001-05:00

As promised, here are pictures of our bedroom makeovers. First up, in no particular order, and only because I cleaned it today and all the beds were made, is the kids' room. I wish I were the kind of person who has dramatic before & after pictures but I'm just never that prepared. I hunted high and low through all my photos since we moved into this house and could not find a single photo of what the room, at large, looked like before. So you'll have to settle for a cute old photo of Lucy after her bath. It shows what the paint color used to be when we first moved in.

It was obviously not an ideal color for a boy to live in. Lucy wanted the color to stay pink and William wanted to paint the room green. In the end we settled for...neither. We went with a boring old neutral. But you know what? With the white trim I totally love it.

Ignore the window a/c unit. It's on our list to be removed this weekend. And someday I'd love to remove the ceiling fan fixture with something more attractive.

This bedroom is actually quite large. It's only a tad smaller than the master bedroom which is why I chose to move William in with Lucy rather than the other way around.

One of the reasons it feels so large is because the previous owners removed the closet doors. At first this was a hard concept for me to live with, being ultra organized and needing everything in its place. I just didn't like the idea of everything out there in the open. But once I figured out how to use the closet space as an extension of the room, I came to like it. Hanging clothes is kind of a challenge but I try to display Lucy's prettiest dresses and sweaters first so it feels more like room decor rather than just clothes storage.

We recently purchased new furniture for our living room which meant our beloved leather chair needed a new spot. I totally love it here, just in front of the radiator (cozy) and antique lamp (a find from my great aunt before she moved). Many a bedtime stories shall be read in this space, I presume.

One of the things on my to-do list in this room is to find bedding for our twin-over-full bunk beds. It's a challenge with mixed genders. In the end I've decided to wait until the baby is born. If it's a girl, she will eventually move in with Lucy and I'll want something a little more frilly. If it's a boy, he'll be rooming with William and I'll want to utilize the colors in his old Pottery Barn Kids quilt which I was so sad to have to put away in the cedar closet for the time being.

Because the bunk beds take up a lot of wall space in both height and width, I didn't need too much artwork so I kept it simple. Here I printed out black and white pictures of William and Lucy together and put them in frames I already had.

On the dresser, I've displayed both of their piggy banks. William's is a vintage Donald Duck bank that used to be Brian's when he was a boy. The framed photograph is of William as a newborn just because he was the prettiest newborn ev-ah. And hanging above the dresser are two keepsakes we received as baby gifts displaying William's and Lucy's birth date, time, length and weight.

And finally, behind the leather chair in the reading nook, is this lovely find from Etsy. I wanted something Beatrix Potter-ish because I knew it would be gender-neutral. And once Brian saw the pipe, very un-politically correct, he loved it instantly. Lucky for us the artist was from the Twin Cities and hand-delivered the print to our home. I love it immensely. Click here to see his other work.

Next up is the baby's room!

Rewards & Sticker Charts

2011-09-20T11:22:00.000-05:00

When I was in college I took a psychology class on motivation. We were assigned to read Punished by Rewards by Alfie Kohn. It's all about how grades and incentives have killed America's desire to learn for learning's sake or to succeed for success's sake.

It's an interesting perspective and one I can relate to from an anecdotal point-of-view. I'm a terrible test-taker. But if a class has no tests that means I can listen to an interesting lecturer without scrambling to scribble down notes in hopes of memorizing the right material for the test. It means I can clear my brain to really absorb the material and begin to think critically about it.

And all of that is well and fine until you're a mom. A mom with a lot of children of differing ages and personalities.

We've never been big on sticker charts or rewards or even allowance in this house. We try to move and cooperate as a unit rather singling out individual behavior problems or desired outcomes.

Example 1: If William is whining and crying at the dinner table we remove him from the table because he's ruining everyone else's dining experience. We don't reward him for not whining at the dinner table.

Example 2: If Lucy goes to the bathroom in the toilet instead of her diaper, the whole family cheers and whoops and hollers because she's starting to become a big girl. I don't give her a sticker or piece of candy every single time she goes. (I should say, however, that in the past there have been a few instances when I have given both her AND William a piece of chocolate when she goes because that helps foster family cooperation.)

I do remember starting a sticker chart for William shortly after Lucy was born. We were experiencing some behavior problems with him and as the mom of a sleepless newborn, I was desperate. We wrote down a list of good behaviors and each time he demonstrated one of these, he got to put a sticker on his chart. If he filled it up he got to go to a movie...or something like that. I can't remember. I can't remember because we never finished the chart. It sort of just fell through the cracks. William lost interest and so did I. And truthfully, his behavior got better simply because he moved past the phase of being a two-year-old with a new sibling.

I haven't touched a sticker chart since. Until now.

If you've been reading my blog in the past few months you know that we've been doing some bedroom switch-a-roos in preparation for the new baby. William moved out of his bedroom and is now sharing with Lucy in bunk beds. We started this at the beginning of August hoping that the novelty would wear off by summer's end and that bedtime would be smooth sailing just in time for the school routine. We were sorely mistaken.

After many 11 o'clock bedtimes I searched high and low for advice from other moms. But all this advice was off-mark because of one uniqueness in my children. No matter how sleepy they might be, they are chit-chatty Cathys to the Nth degree. They do not stop talking from the minute they are awake. Only people who have spent a few days with my kids truly get this.

We tried yelling. A lot. We tried punishment. We tried negative reinforcements. All of it lasted for about five minutes until one of them broke the silence again with a single word and the conversation and giggles started up all over again.

They only thing that seemed to work was allowing William to fall asleep in our bed and then carrying him into the bunk beds when we went to bed. And while that was great for the short time, both Brian and I knew it wasn't practical for the long-term.

When school started I got desperate and I reached in my arsenal for my last weapon. Bribery. Also known as a sticker chart.

William has been asking for quite some time about a particular action figure he wants to put on his birthday list. I almost never buy my kids toys or gifts for no reason so he's good about creating a wish list instead of asking for it right this minute. But this time I asked him if he would rather earn the action figure. He, of course, loved the idea.

So here's how I set it up. I told William that when it was time for bed he must go up to his bed and not talk to Lucy at all. If Lucy talked to him or got out of bed, he had to ignore her. The only reason he was allowed to get out of bed was if he had to go to the bathroom. We went over different scenarios again and again. If he had a good night he got to put a sticker on his chart. If he had a bad night we would put a red X on his chart. When he got ten stickers in a row, he could pick out an action figure that we would buy for him. The catch was that he had to get ten sticker in a row. So if he got five stickers and then an X, he had to start counting to ten all over again.

The first night was a success. Lucy kept talking and getting out of bed. But William remained silent. Each time we went upstairs to put Lucy back to bed we would praise William. This seemed to motivated him to stay quiet. William staying quiet eventually gave way to Lucy's boredom which eventually gave way to sleep. YES!

But I was convinced it was fluke. That William would surely lose interest eventually. But we are now on Day 7 and guess how many X's have been marked on that chart. Zero. Can you believe it? I can't!

And now, a week later, bedtime is a breeze. Without any reinforcements from William, Lucy doesn't even try to talk to him or get out of bed. She's totally over it.

But with all that success, I have to say, I'm not entirely convinced the sticker chart should get all the accolades. If I'm being honest I would say the chart has been more for Brian and I as a reminder to hand out praise where praise is due instead of just targeting the offending party. William eats up praise so whenever he gets it without asking, well, that's equal to ten thousand action figures.

When the sticker chart is complete, only time will tell if any of this really "worked." What are your experiences with rewards and charts? Do you love them? Hate them? Do they work long-term?

The List

2011-09-19T12:28:00.002-05:00

Brian noted last week that I hadn't written a blog post in quite some time. I reminded him that all of my creative juices were being used up elsewhere.

I'm a good housekeeper. My laundry basket is always under control. I cook a homemade dinner almost every night. And I bake at least once a week. But one thing I sorely lack is motivation to complete house projects. Paint samples stay on my walls for months. Walls are bare with frames unhung. Even new items that I purchase stay in closets for a lengthy period of time until I decide exactly what I want to do with them.

About a month ago I lashed out a bit. What is your problem, Brian wanted to know. It was realization followed by stress. Realization that this baby is coming. Soon. And our house, now lived in for two whole years, still kind of looks the same as it did when we moved in.

So I made The List. And Brian, who normally is just as against house projects as I am, was 100% on board. In one month's time we completely redid three bedrooms and part of our living room. (The other part was already finished.)

Brian is pretty much a painting pro now and I'm beginning to like the process of searching for the perfect accessories. I'm starting to see value in a throw pillow or the warming light of the perfect table lamp. I'm turning to Etsy to fill wall space instead of framing every cute family photo as I've done in the past. Where are your favorite places to shop for home accessories?

Have I mentioned that I'm 35 weeks pregnant? With William making his appearance at 37 weeks that has me saying, "Holy crapballs!" It feels like my home pregnancy test just found its way into the trash bin, like, yesterday.

And have I mentioned that I really hope we're having a boy? Not because I really care that the baby is anything but healthy but because WE DON'T HAVE A GIRL NAME! It's driving me crazy. I've never been in this situation before. And yesterday we totally threw out our top three choices and zoomed a newcomer to the top position. But I only have a few more weeks to test it out which makes me nervous. I don't like last-minute impluse decisions. Espcially when it comes to my child's name. So I'm hoping it's a boy. Because we've got his name nailed down.

If it is a girl I'm hoping God comes down from the heavens with his big booming voice and says, "This child shall be called..." That would really help me out.

In other news, William and Brian ran a 1-mile race for our church's annual county fair this weekend. The race ran right past our house so Lucy and I were out in full force as the cheering squad. Really, kind of cute.

This week I'm going to write about sticker charts and how they never worked for us and then how they suddenly did, but only kind of. And then I'm going to promise you pictures of our new bedrooms. That should keep me on task. Maybe I need a sticker chart?

And if that's not enough, I'll leave you with this cuteness.

First Day of School Caramel Rolls

2011-09-07T09:56:00.001-05:00

When I was growing up my mom had a tradition. She always made caramel rolls on the morning of the first day of school. So after we would finish our normal healthy breakfast we'd get a little lovin' from the oven.

William is in Monday/Wednesday/Friday preschool this year so today was his first day of school. Since I don't have a caramel roll recipe I made up my own because caramel rolls are forgiving like that. They turned out great and they were so easy. I know the first day of school is over but maybe you'll try them later this week or this weekend? Here's the recipe:

For the caramel topping:

1/4 cup butter
1/4 cup heavy cream
1/2 cup brown sugar
couple handfuls of walnuts (optional)

In a small sauce pan combine all the ingredients except the nuts over medium low heat until melted and the mixture just starts to bubble. You don't want a full boil, though. Turn off the heat. Butter a 9" round cake pan and pour the caramel mixture on the bottom. Dot with walnuts. Set pan aside.

For the rolls:

1 frozen loaf white bread dough, thawed
1/4 cup butter, melted
1/2 cup brown sugar
cinnamon
couple handfuls of walnuts (optional)

So I cheated a little bit and bought frozen dough. You could absolutely make your own, and I've done that before, but I was pressed for time and didn't want to be bothered with all the kneading and rising.

So once you've got your dough, sprinkle a work surface with flour and roll out the dough into a rectangle. Mine was roughly 12 inches by 8 inches or thereabouts. It really doesn't matter. Next, spread the melted butter over the dough until every inch is covered. With a knife or back of a spoon, spread the brown sugar ensuring most of the dough is covered. Then sprinkle the whole thing with cinnamon and, because I love the crunch, dot the dough with some more walnuts. If you're not especially big on nuts, you may choose to skip this step.

Now, starting with the short side, start rolling up the dough jelly roll style. When you've got your log, cut it in half. It's easiest to do this with a serrated knife. Then cut the halves in half and so on until you have your desired number of caramel rolls. I ended up with 12. A fewer number will result in fatter rolls and a larger number will result in thinner rolls.

Then start placing your rolls, spiral side up, into the prepared cake pan. It's OK if they are touching each other. Just squish them all in. Cover the pan loosely with a dry kitchen towel and place them in a cold oven to rise a bit. I let mine sit overnight but you could bake them after an hour or so.

When you're ready to bake, remove the pan from the oven and preheat to 350 degrees. Bake the rolls for 20-25 minutes. Less time means gooey rolls (yum!) and more time means crispy rolls. When the baking time is complete, place a large plate over the entire pan and flip to invert the rolls so that the caramel mixture is now on top. Be careful to do this over the sink or you might have flying caramel splatters all over your kitchen! Here's what my finished product looked like.

And here's what my four-year-old looked like after he ate a couple just before his first day of school.

And here's what my two-year-old looked like right before she got totally ticked off when she realized she did not get to go to school this year.

Summer's Grand Finale

2011-09-06T14:24:00.000-05:00

We just arrived back home from Erie, Pennsylvania. It was our last summer soiree and our last trip as a family of four.

If I'm being honest I should tell you that as the days led up to this trip I really wasn't looking forward to it, what with all the whine that was going on around here. And with the end of the vacation tripping on the heels of back-to-school it meant I had a lot to do other than pack our suitcases.

When mid-summer approached and we still hadn't booked our flight or hotel I began questioning the appropriateness of traveling so close to my due date. Wouldn't it be more responsible to just hunker down and prepare for baby? It certainly would have been easier but deep down I knew this would be a great memory-maker for our family. And life experiences trump practicality.

And now, as I look back on our four days on the shores of Lake Erie, it brings a little tear to my eye because it was all just so perfect. I could not have asked for better behavior out of my kids. They played hard and slept hard. They willingly awoke before the sun to make it to the airport on time and did wonderfully on the flight. They adapted to changing routines, missed naps, late meals and different sleeping arrangements without a single complaint. They met new cousins, aunts and uncles and their manners were supreme.

I was so proud of our little tribe for bearing with the hassles of travel in order to endure a little fun. It was the first time I really felt that we're ready to add another member to this family. William was self-sufficient in every way possible. And Lucy is totally not a baby anymore. One of the most sacred moments, for me, was watching the two of them snuggled in one bed together in our hotel room. Just six months ago this would have been a total disaster. Now it goes from 12 hours of restful sleep to morning time giggles. Priceless.

The trip was expensive. And it was exhausting. But it was totally worth it. Love to you, Summer of 2011.

Cousins and BFFs

The sand--Oh My! It was in every nook and cranny imaginable.

William's first tubing experience with Brian. And on Lake Erie, no less!

Yep. This pretty much sums up the weekend.

Searching for good skipping rocks.

For anyone wondering why we would ever want to have a large family, here's your answer. It's in our genes. This is Brian's mom's side. And this is ONLY first cousins and aunts and uncles. AND there were even a few missing. So. Much. Fun.

Boys and Weapons

2011-08-29T16:23:00.000-05:00

Last night we took a rare trip as a whole family to Target. It's usually just me or just me and the kids but I needed to return a shirt and we figured we'd use it as an opportunity to get out of the house and pick up some ingredients for dinner. Somehow family shopping trips seem to always have a dash of fun included because they are more relaxed and we don't hold tightly to a schedule like I do when I'm alone.

When our shopping was complete Brian headed for the checkout lanes with both kids and I headed to Guest Services to make my exchange. I finished my task first so while I waited for the rest of my family I perused the Dollar Spot aisles near the exit. Amongst all the cheap back-to-school themed items I spied some foam weaponry on the bottom shelf. Over the top of the aisle I saw Brian and the kids headed my way so I grabbed a sword and playfully jumped out of the aisle with it to surprise William.

I'm pretty sure I saw more delight cross Brian's eyes at my Dollar Spot find than I did in our four-year-old's.

He let go of the cart and went digging through the weapon bin. Swords and maces and ax hammers abounded. In no time I could here grunts of "hoo" and "haw" and chants of "take that" and "take this" as father and son committed themselves to battle right then and there.

Lucy and I sat back out of the line of fire and giggled at their boyish ways.

At one point a middle-aged lady was trying to set her sights on a pocket Webster dictionary but was finding it difficult not to be distracted by the flying sword of my grown husband and his preschool son. She made eye contact with me and that's when I saw it. The ever so brief look of disapproval. I could almost hear the voice in her head shouting, "This is what's wrong with kids these days."

Instead of being the adult and ushering my soldiers out of Target, I just continued to stand back and laugh.

Shortly after the woman decided she best opt out of a one-dollar dictionary, a young dad past us with his newborn baby in tow. He looked at Brian and William and smiled from ear-to-ear no doubt counting down the days until his own son would be old enough to join in such shenanigans.

After a valiant effort at trying to convince me that he absolutely, positively did so need a foam sword, we left without any weaponry in hand.

But after I put Lucy to bed I came downstairs to discover my boys had been hard at work.

A knight in boxers and an undershirt.

And that's just the thing about boys. You can refuse to buy them all the guns, swords and daggers in the world. But all it does is encourage them to find ways to make their own.

We can debate the issue of letting boys play with weapons until the end of time. But in the end boys [and men!] will be boys. And I don't think I'd want them any other way.

The Help, The Chiropractor and The Whining

2011-08-26T14:34:00.000-05:00

This past week has been, um, challenging. We've all (minus Brian) been a bit under the weather with allergies/sore throat/ear infections/sinusitis that we just can't seem to shake day after day. It's doubly difficult when we're experiencing some of the best weather of the entire summer and we see all of our neighbors out riding bikes and pushing strollers well into the evening hours.

The kids are EXTRA whiny and while I've tried to wake up with a patient smile each morning, a person can only take so much, you know? Lucy, I think, had an ear infection that came and went on its own with the help of our friend, Motrin, in the evening. But William started complaining about his ear this morning and he will likely get a little help from antibiotics as his ear infections tend to be very severe. Either that or his pain tolerance is a lot lower than Lucy's. I wouldn't doubt the latter. His White Boy Syndrome that plagued him as a newborn just may have followed him into his preschool years. Chalk another one up for female strength!

I have gotten some whining relief in the evening though thanks to Brian who has pulled his weight in dinner and bedtime duty two nights in a row as I headed out of the house. I deal with it all day but I feel so guilty when he has to deal with it alone for a couple hours. Why is that? Are all moms like this or are some better at letting go and letting their spouse hold the reigns?

So anyway, I got out of the house two nights this week. Exciting!

First I went to see a prenatal chiropractor and I had meant to write an entire post about this ah-mazing experience but with all the whining (Have I mentioned there's been a lot of whining around here?) the week got away from me.

So 31 weeks into my pregnancy and I finally get around to doing something about that pesky sciatica that's been the only thorn in my side this whole pregnancy. When it was over I asked myself, "WHAT THE HECK HAD I BEEN WAITING FOR?!" I really did use capital letters in my head. Because seriously, this lady was incredible. She did all this special stuff to accommodate my massive belly and she popped and cracked and aligned and adjusted and oh my! It was the first time in months I didn't wince when I got out of my bed in the morning. Or when I lifted my leg to put my pants on. Seriously. It was all this little stuff that caused enormous amounts of shooting pain that I just thought I had to live with this whole time.

Last night we went for a family walk after dinner with both kids strapped down in the double stroller (because of all the whining, remember?) and at one point I told Brian that we could walk faster than our current pace. He gave me a puzzled look. For weeks now I have had to plead with him to slow down as I waddled behind him. Did you know waddling is actually horrible for you during pregnancy? I always thought it was just the natural way for the body to accommodate the belly. But now I feel so much taller and straighter. I feel I have more control over how to carry my belly instead of my belly bringing my whole body down.

So anyway, enough praise singing about chiropractors, or prenatal ones at least. All I have left to say is, if you're pregnant and you've got back pain, don't let it rule your life.

Next up? The Help! Have you seen it? Well, wait. First, have you read the book? If you haven't read the book then you should run to your local library and get thee self on the waiting list to check it out. I read it last summer and since then all I've been doing is trying to find another book that can compare to its goodness. None can.

So after you've taken exactly one day to read the book, because that's how fast you'll want to read it, you should then grab a girlfriend or two who have also read the book and run out to your local movie theater. This is the only movie that I can think of that actually does the book justice. (Note that I am not a Twilight or Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings fan so I can't speak to those series.) And as a bonus your husband will enjoy it too. While the cast and storyline are predominately female based, it's not so chic-flicky that your husband will roll his eyes. It's a very well-told story.

To recap: Chiropractor? Go visit one. The Help? Go read it/see it. And whining. Lots of whining.

Yogurt Giveaway!

2011-08-19T12:00:00.002-05:00

Yogurt is a staple in our house. When we've run out of it the kids ask for it, beg for it and then demand we go to the store to buy more.

And I totally agree with them.

The health benefits of yogurt are endless. It's an excellent source of calcium and protein. Which is a good thing because (a) my kids both show a slight intolerance to lactose so we don't get all of our calcium from drinking milk and (b) we don't eat a lot of meat around here and therefore need protein from other sources. Because of it's live cultures, yogurt also helps promote intestinal health and can help ward off yeast infections. Ladies, if you've ever had one of these you will join me in singing the praises of yogurt!

Another benefit of yogurt is that it is extremely gentle on little tummies which is why Stonyfield's YoBaby Yogurt one of the first foods I feed my babies after starting a few fruits and veggies. YoBaby is a bit more expensive than other brands but I like the peace-of-mind in knowing that the yogurt is both organic and has been specifically created for ages six months and up.

Have you gotten on the Greek yogurt bandwagon yet? Both Brian and I have joined and we love it!Stonyfield now offers the Greek option in their Oikos yogurt.

Brian is especially a big fan of Greek yogurt because as an aspiring body builder (only joking, but seriously this guy can throw up some weight) he likes how much protein he can get in just one cup -- nearly 20 grams. I challenge you to find another source of so much protein that can also boast low fat and low carbs. And as a hungry pregnant mama, I love Greek yogurt because one cup fills me up and keeps me from having to snack more often during the day. You guys, pregnant hunger is nothing to fool around with!

My only critique of Stonyfield is that I wish their yogurt contained about 30-40% less sugar.

Want a chance to try Stonyfield's YoBaby and Oikos yogurt for FREE?

Leave me a comment answering the following question (or anything yogurt-related): How much yogurt does your household consume and what are your favorite brands?

One person will win coupons for a FREE 4-pack of YoBaby Organic Yogurt and a FREE 5.3 oz cup of Oikos Organic Greek Yogurt.

Contest ends Friday, August 26 at 11:59 p.m. Central time.

Good luck! Oh, and if you don't win, check out Stonyfield's website for coupons.

*Stonyfield provided me with product samples for review purposes and also with coupons for a giveaway. Opinions are all my own.

A Conflict of Instincts

2011-08-18T13:41:00.001-05:00

I've become a lot more crunchy since becoming a mom.

We don't pop pills for everything. In fact, we hardly even use painkillers around here. We don't treat ear infections unless the pain becomes unbearable. I try my hardest to forgo formula opting to breastfeed all my babies until they are at least a year old. I choose natural birth options. We eat whole foods and I try to buy organic when our budget allows. And we almost never go to the doctor except for routine check ups.

I think that's the biggest change in me. I've learned to trust my gut more than anything a doctor tells me.

But sometimes that aversion to Western medicine can work against me.

For the past year William has had seven separate episodes of severe fatigue and vomiting. The symptoms usually begin early in the morning and he is completely bedridden until about 1:00 or so when he finally creeps out of his room and is 100% better save for a bit of weakness from not eating. You may even remember me mentioning a few of these episodes in past posts. I had a number of hunches as to what the cause might be: everything from being overly hungry from not eating dinner the night before to being overly tired from too much activity and not enough sleep.

When he is in the middle of one of his episodes it is extremely scary because he is so lethargic and non-responsive and so just not himself.

But the problem is that when he emerges out of an episode he is completely back to his normal healthy self. So it's easy for me to forget how scared I was. Which is why I haven't seen or talked to a doctor about it. Until now.

I finally made an appointment with a pediatric gastroentrologist after he had two episodes in July. We went to our first consult appointment last week which left both William and myself in tears. William, because they had to take three vials of blood. Not. Fun. And me, because I left the clinic with dates and times for three more appointments of tests. One of which requires complete anesthesia.

I understand why the doctor ordered all these tests. But as his mom and his medical advocate I can't shake this feeling that he's being poked and prodded all for not. That this is a whole lot of nonsense for an otherwise healthy kid.

On the other hand, if I decide not to do the testing, I feel negligent. Because what if they do find something. I can't let my ego or my "I-know-my-own-kid-better-than-you" attitude stand in the way of his well-being. What if this one time my motherly instincts are totally off and there really is something wrong with him?

And then there's the middle ground. If all of his preliminary tests come back normal how long do I let them keep testing? So far all his blood work has come back normal. Tomorrow we have an ultrasound and UGI scheduled. And then in September he has an endoscopy scheduled. This is the test where he'll need anesthesia. Which means he'll need a pre-op sign off from his regular physician. Which all just seems so serious.

If none of those tests provide answers then the doctor wants to talk about doing an MRI to see if anything is going on in his brain. And that's where I feel like I might need to draw the line. It's just so much radiation for a four-year-old. And that doesn't even include the million and one X-rays he had as a newborn.

But again, I get this guilty feeling if I don't allow them to do everything possible to ensure he's a healthy kid.

Brian, as always, is the voice of reason on this one. Ensuring me that it is not normal for these vomiting/fatigue episodes to happen to an otherwise normal four-year-old. That putting up with a little poking and prodding now might save him from ever having to go through an episode again.

Deep down I know he's right. But the nagging feeling still persists like a damn hangnail.

I'm hoping, if nothing else, that when these tests come back normal, like I'm sure they will, that I will at least have peace-of-mind in his well being. That I will be assured this is just some fluke that he will outgrow in no time.

Does anyone know where I'm coming from? Or am I over-analyzing? Encouragement and advice are appreciated! Oh, and prayers too. Prayers are always the best source for calm.

Discovered

2011-08-09T15:15:00.000-05:00

This summer I have found that showering is most efficient for me if it happens in the middle of the afternoon. The reasons being are:

1. It's been so hot and humid this summer that any benefit of a shower is completely lost come ten o'clock after chasing the kids outdoors or inside my non-central-air-conditioned home.

2. Lucy is napping.

3. We usually have nowhere to be in the late afternoon hours so I can let my hair air dry instead of blasting hot air from my hairdryer on my already hot body. (Haha! I said "hot body." Brian is going to love that double meaning.)

So, after lunch our routine goes like this. I put Lucy to bed. William reads his books for one hour in his room while I do work on the 'puter. When the one hour is up he comes down stairs and I let him play on pbskids.org while I run upstairs to shower.

Well it seems pbskids.org has maybe bored him just bit after so many days because while searching for a particular photograph in my archives the other day I discovered that he taught himself how to use the webcam and all the fun extras that come with it. See photos below. There was also a video. I won't show it here because it was more than five minutes long. But Brian and I almost wet our pants watching it.

Seven Years: What We Did Right

2011-08-05T14:55:00.001-05:00

On Sunday Brian and I will celebrate our seven-year wedding anniversary. They call this the seven-year-itch. Bored. Unhappy. Discontent. Unfulfilled. Under-appreciated. They say all those feelings start rearing their ugly heads by the time you're seven years in to a marriage. But Brian and I have found that to be completely untrue. For us, anyway. And yes, I talked with him about it first to confirm he really feels this way. He does. And I didn't really have to ask him to know the truth.

Looking back, here are the top 10 reasons the Nash union is stronger than ever.

1. We genuinely like each other. If I weren't married to him, I'd be seeking out his friendship anyway. He's a fun and funny person to be around. But he's sensitive and a good-listener too.

2. We're almost never jealous. Of each other or of people of the opposite gender we might befriend. I know this is a controversial one. Common marital advice says you shouldn't open yourself up to a serious friendship with someone of the opposite sex. But both Brian and I can list good friends that are of the opposite gender. For us it works. And it really just boils down to trust.

3. S-E-X. I'm an old-fashioned lady so I don't like talking about this in a public forum. But the truth is, if you don't do it or don't do it often enough, there's nothing unique that distinguishes your union from mere roommates.

4. We have shared interests. Some of these were apparent right away and others were developed over time as we came to love or appreciate the interests of each other. Beer. Coffee. College football. Movies and television. Travel. Music. Fun in the sun. Food. We get excited about doing all these things and seek out activities that let us do them together.

5. We communicate with inside jokes. Brian and I have an inside joke for almost every memorable experience we've had. We also have a multitude of pet names we call each other. It brings laughter into our relationship and gives us a feeling of exclusivity.

6. We have a shared faith. I'm not going to lie. Brian and I are not the type of couple who prays together. Maybe we should be but thus far it hasn't been for us. That said, we still do lots of things that connect us in our Catholic faith. We go to church every week without fail. We like going to adoration together and sometimes confession too. When we make decisions we always try to tie it back to Catholic teaching. And we always keep each other in check when we feel the other isn't following their spiritual path to the best of his/her ability.

7. Our marriage has a higher priority than our children. Throughout the day I often shush my kids or say, "Just a minute" with a tinge of guilt. But I never feel this way when I'm talking to Brian and one of the kids interrupts us. "I'm talking to Daddy right now, I'll be with you in a second." I think this is the best gift we've given our children. It makes them feel secure in our family unit and it gives them a good foundation of what to expect and how to act in their own marriages some day. By putting your marriage first, you're simultaneously putting your children first too.

8. We spend a lot of time together. Sure, I have girls nights and trips away by myself. And yes, he has happy hours and bachelor parties. But these nights away are few and far between. I look forward to 6 o'clock when his car pulls in the driveway. And Saturday and Sunday are all about family affairs. We are together more often than we're not. And when we're not it's always a countdown until we're reunited again.

9. We know each other's love language. I think it should be a requirement that every married person read The 5 Love Languages by Gary Chapman. We have a tendency to show love for our spouse in the way that we want to be loved. But your spouse's love language is often very different from your own. Ever since we read this book and realized each other's love language, it's been easy to correct a path toward being unfulfilled or under appreciated.

10. I go to bed angry. Sometimes. After an unresolved argument I can hold a mean grudge. No one knows this better than Brian and I readily admit it as one of my biggest faults. But I've found that arguing in circles until we're both blue in the face usually doesn't lead to any sort of a good outcome. But after a night of sleep I find I can usually wake with a new sense of perspective. It doesn't mean I've forgotten everything but it usually means I can communicate my position in a more calm, loving and clear way.

Bonus Item: We say the words. We don't underestimate the power of saying "I love you." Off to work, before bed, after a phone call, in a text message. We say these words tens of times a day.

My biggest lesson learned thus far: I will never badmouth Brian or talk about an unresolved argument in an attempt to get people on my side. I did this once early in our marriage and it is still one of the biggest regrets I have today. You still may find me playfully complaining about a pet peeve I have about him but it will always been done in an endearing way. The married couples I most admire all have one thing in common: They brag about their spouse to others. I want to be like that.

Things we're working on: We're not perfect. No marriage is. So in order to demystify the idea that everything is coming up roses over here, I'll let you in on one of our struggles. It has to do with serving each other. Often, after a long, grueling day of many butt-wiping sessions and lots of whining, I'll take out my frustrations on Brian. He got to be at the office all day. He got to talk to real, live adults. He didn't change a single poopy diaper. And he didn't have to think about what was for dinner. I need to do a better job at realizing this is my vocation. This is how I'm called to serve our family. His calling is different and he, too, likely gets just as frustrated from time to time.

What things have you done right in your marriage? What lessons have you learned and what are you striving to do better?

No Kids Allowed

2011-08-03T16:51:00.003-05:00

A few days ago I linked to this video story featured on the Today Show. Go ahead, watch the video. I'll wait here. (By the way, are you following me on Twitter? Why the heck not? I'm @mamanash, of course.)

In case you didn't watch the video, the basic gist is that a Pennsylvania restaurant has decided to ban children under the age six from dining there. The restaurant owner says the decision came after many patron complaints.

I've been wanting to write about this story for a while now but my head is conflicted.

On the one hand I am not the type of person who makes a habit out of bringing my children to fine dining establishments. I don't think they are old enough to appreciate a $15/plate dinner and they're usually in bed around the time I would set a reservation for these higher end establishments.

Only a handful of times have we ever brought the kids to an upscale restaurant and, to be honest, it went beautifully. I remember on one occasion dining out for Brian's birthday at our favorite downtown restaurant with William when he was around 2-years-old. He was so much fun that we got compliments from the wait staff and others seated near by. (I say fun because he didn't sit there like a silent obedient statue. He spoke and ate and did all the things adults do. But he wasn't a crying, hysterical mess either.)

We've actually found that our kids are more well-behaved at any restaurant than they are on any given Sunday at church. Can I get an amen on this from other parents?

And let's be honest here. There's really no badly-behaved child. Only inconsiderate parents. Right? Every time one of my kids acts up out in public it's usually on me. I'm the one who's kept them out past their nap, too close to lunch or until they are bored to tears. And if it isn't one of those reasons it usually means I haven't done a good enough job at setting up expectations or teaching self-discipline. I say this with the utmost humility as I am currently the parent to a tantrum-prone two-year-old daughter.

Don't get me wrong, I do think there's room for adult only events and places. I, for one, have never brought one of my children to a wedding. Not because I think they would be dreadful there but because I want to converse with friends and family I haven't seen in some time without worrying about where my child is. And they usually have more fun with a sitter anyway. (My kids LOVE babysitters.)

I also enjoy the occasional night out with my husband. We talk for hours without disruption and it brings back blissful memories from our dating and pre-children years. BUT, and here is why my head is conflicted, I have never, ever been offended if the party sitting next us has a child with them. Even if that child is being disruptive.

And I think that's what gets me about this story. The tone is all off. You see signs banning cigarettes and hand guns from restaurants. But children? That likens them to some sort of a toxin or danger. One woman interviewed in the tape even said she felt assaulted by disruptive children in restaurants. Assaulted?!

What has happened to our society that children have become second-class citizens? And I mean that quite literally. On Mesaba airlines children are now banned from first class.

There can't be hope for our future if children are reduced to merely an accessory that some people choose to have and others not.

There can't be hope for our future if children are treated in pre-Civil Rights Act ways when you wouldn't be hard-pressed to find someone feeling assaulted because they had to dine next to a black/gay/Muslim person. (And maybe that still happens today. But I like to live in my naive rainbows and unicorns world and hope that it doesn't.)

Somehow we've forgotten children are little people too. Somehow we've forgotten that we were all children at one time. And what a sad place this would be if it became child-segregated.

Certainly this restaurant owner can make his own rules as it is a privately-owned establishment. And certainly I would advocate for parents using discretion when bringing their children with them anywhere.

But somehow the whole nature of the story leaves a bad taste in my mouth. And maybe even a little concerned about where we're headed as a society.

Tell me what you think. Am I way off base?

Off The Top of My Head

2011-08-02T13:41:00.001-05:00

This morning I was thinking I could start a whole new blog consisting only of lists. Just short tidbits of what's going on in my life and in my head. I have a feeling that's pretty poor and rather lazy writing. But it does get the job done doesn't it?

I have a longer, more controversial, post forming in my head. But it's still in its infancy. (I could write a whole other post entirely on how I come up with post ideas and where I get my inspiration.) So while I wait for that idea to mature, here are the top seven voices in my head trying to get out.

1. Good bye wretched t-ball, hello swimming lessons. We started yesterday, despite some sprinkles, and go every day now for two weeks. I have to tell you, I kind of love it. We get up and dressed early. I grab my homemade iced coffee and we head to the local outdoor pool. Lucy sits in her stroller and eats crackers and is mesmerized by all the other kids, especially the dive team. (She did ask quite a few times if she could go swimming but so far no meltdowns when I tell her she has to wait until next year.) I think what I like best is that there's no blasted sand to get in shoes and make hands all dirty. But that's just me and my anal ways.

2. After much deliberation and persuading from Brian, I finally broke down and purchased a smart phone. I never thought I needed one since I'm home all day and always within distance of the computer. But the computer is stationary and I'm finding that doesn't always work for me. The phone travels with me around the house, outside, to the store, and so I'm able to be much more communicative on email, Facebook and Twitter. I'm hoping these instant interactions will all help with this here little blog. More on that in #4.

Although I was tempted, I did not get an iPhone. I trusted Brian and went with an Android. He tells me that's where the market is headed and I trust him in all things business tech related. Every day I tell him some cool new use I found with the phone and ever day he makes me repeat, "You were right!"

So far I haven't paid for a single app. And I'm not really interested in doing so. I just want the basics. I want to check my email, write a shopping list, look up a recipe, reserve a Redbox rental. I think the best part of the whole deal is that my monthly mobile bill actually went down $10 thanks to a super cool rep at the AT&T store. How's that for affirmation?

3. After a series of unfortunate outcomes in an attempt to make my own ice cream I finally did my due diligence and read all the instructions carefully and followed them precisely. OH. MY. GOODNESS. Have you ever made your own ice cream? Incredible. That is all.

4. Last Thursday night I had the sincere pleasure of meeting up with fellow blogger and friend Stephanie from MetropolitanMama.net. After corresponding for more than two years it was surreal to finally meet her face-to-face. I kept saying it was like Internet dating for bloggers.

We talked for hours about everything from childbirth to traveling the country with her family to teaching our four-year-olds to read. Stephanie is currently spending a year traveling the country with her husband and two little girls via RV. Read more about their Give Every Day adventure here.

I think what I'll take away most from my evening with Stephanie was her desire to invoke the value of my blog to me. She gave me a renewed sense of what it means to be a blogger and to have a loyal following. Too often I brush off this space as just something I do for fun. But she made me realize I'm much bigger than that. When someone does that for you, without anything in it for them, that's the essence of a true friendship. Thank you, Stephanie!

5. Public Service Announcement: While waiting to take a left turn at a stoplight it is quite appreciated, encouraged even, to pull all the way out into the middle of the intersection. This allows room for the cars going straight to pass you on the right and it also allows the car behind you to turn left with you when the light turns yellow.

Thank you for your cooperation in this matter. Moving right along.

6. Ever since Brian started his new job and we moved off his dreadful old health care plan and on to a much more reasonable plan, I've been making appointments like crazy. Dentist for both the kids. (Neither has ever been!) Routine physical for Brian. (It's been since high school!) A cranio check-up for Lucy. (She's two years post surgical!) And a consult with a pediatric gastroentrologist for William. (More on the need for this later.)

I can now schedule all these with just a minimal copay instead a million dollar deductible. OK so our old deductible wasn't that much, but darn near it. I can't decide if this experience makes me more or less in favor of government health care.

7. We took the kids to the horse races on Sunday. It was hot and humid and we needed something that offered both indoor and outdoor options. I know this sounds like a strange thing to do as a family but the whole setup is quite kid-friendly. I only wish it wasn't so busy the day we went. There was some sort of breast cancer event which brought out a lot of ladies in pink.

We didn't gamble away the kids' college funds but we did put a couple bucks here and there on some gut-feeling horses and we let William pick some of his own based on his favorite-sounding names (i.e. "Loaded Gun" -- such a boy). He thought that was pretty fun and he liked cheering for "his" horse as it neared the finish line.

So there's my list of seven. Now, tell me yours!

How Did We Get Here?

2011-07-28T14:29:00.001-05:00

Today I had my prenatal glucose test for my third pregnancy.

On Monday I will already be 28 weeks pregnant. Seven months. Third trimester. Twelve weeks to go. (!!!)

Today I put my youngest down for a nap in a real bed. Not a crib.

Today my oldest won't be taking a nap. Because he's almost five (five!) and naps are on their way out for him.

Today I ordered bunk beds. And after I clicked "submit" I sent a text to Brian asking him how we got here. Here being "bunk bed status."

He replied with a funny comment. I won't write it here but it had something to do with the way babies come about. That silly husband of mine.

When I was pregnant with William it felt like the baby stage was going to last forever. I remember putting together his crib and thinking he would be in it forever. And then suddenly I was pregnant again and he wasn't the baby and he wasn't too little for a big bed.

I've gotten a little smarter along the way. This time I'll be purchasing a dresser to double as a changing table for the baby's room. Because what good is a changing table without any changing to be done? And I bought a twin over full bunk bed with an option to add a trundle. Because now I know. Nashes like to populate like bunnies. But they don't live in big house.

For Brian, one of six siblings, this is all he's ever known. Except for a brief period during his senior year of college, he has never called a room all his own. I, too, shared a room growing up but it was always a choice, not a demand for space saving. And I moved into my own room once I hit junior high.

While I definitely appreciated being able to call the basement all my own throughout my teenage years, I can also see the benefit of keeping everyone in tight quarters. Nowadays, with sprawling suburban homes, it's easy for family members to get lost. For the family dynamic to slowly fade into separate corners, separate rooms. Keeping them boarded up together will keep us all more connected. Or at least that's what I tell myself as I'm trying to squeeze another peg into my car in the game of Life.

"Doesn't it seem like we were just prancing down the Quad to our next class?" I recently asked Brian. "Back then did you ever dream you'd be married with three kids before you turned 30?"

"Yeah," he replied, "I actually did."

And that is so totally Brian. And that is so totally why I love him.

Ahh, That's Better

2011-07-26T11:24:00.000-05:00

I was family-less this weekend. Not really by choice but rather by circumstance. Brian had a bachelor party in Chicago and his mom offered to take the kids. At first I wanted to decline. I hate not being with the kids on a weekend in July. Summer is so short and there's so many memories to be made. But with the heat soaring that week and everyone getting a little stir crazy and short with one another, Brian convinced me a little break from it all might be nice. So I accepted.

I did get some house projects done. I walked through an antique store. And I phoned in some appointments I'd been meaning to make. I got to go to a party without being distracted. I went to mass by myself. The early one, even. And I read a lot.

But mostly I felt sad by the empty quiet of our house and all the Facebook statuses describing family weekend plans from all my friends.

It's so nice, and good even, to have time away by myself. And sometimes it's not. It's just one of those things where you have to find the balance.

When I went to pick up the kids on Sunday, William told me he "missed me so much last night" and that he "told Nana I was ready to go home."

My heart pounded with guilt. That is an absolute first for he, who loves to have sleepovers at other people's houses.

When I went to bed on Sunday night I sulked at the time lost. But when I woke on Monday I felt renewed. The oppressing heat was gone. Lucy was in a good mood. (See? I think the crab in her only comes out in the heat.) William was in a good mood. Brian delayed leaving for work by 15 minutes. Fifteen minutes to sip our coffee at the dining room table. Fifteen minutes to reconnect. Fifteen minutes made all the difference.

I took the kids to the park early. They ate lunch and took good naps. For dinner we had pork chops on the grill and Minnesota-grown corn-on-the-cob. Then we pranced out into the backyard until the sun went down and the mosquitoes got the best of us.

Summer is just one of those seasons I hold with an iron fist. Not wanting to waste a drop of sunlight. Sometimes I feel a little crazy when I demand that time. And sometimes I feel crazy for not demanding more of it.

8 Observations in the Oppressing Heat

2011-07-19T20:41:00.000-05:00

Heat indices are breaking records at 120. Dew points are also breaking records in the 80s. (That's higher than the Amazon jungle, by the way.) And regular temperatures are just as impressive. My computer is located on the front porch of our home. Normally the most serene and inspiring place in our house. But lately it's been known as the only place without air conditioning. So with sweat beading my upper lip and the hazy air blurring my sight and my thoughts, here's a quick and dirty on the hot and schweaty.

1. Lucy is crab. Is she a girl? Is she a second-born? Is she two? Is it the heat? It's really hard to say. But she has been dealing out some major meltdowns lately. Of course as soon as she gets that out of the way she bounces back up and does the cutest thing you've ever seen from a two-year-old in your whole life. And that just totally sums up Lucy.

2. Carrying around another human being 24 hours a day in this sweltering heat is just as hot as it literally sounds. I'm speaking, of course, about being pregnant in the summer. There are some positives. Like the summer maternity clothes are way cuter and wearing minimal clothing (or just opting out completely) with an expanding belly is comfortable in more ways than one.

3. The heat makes no difference to William. "But Mommy, why can't I go ride my bike?" I'll tell you why. Because if I let him go out there I'll never get him back in. Until, of course, I'm picking up his listless body to driving him to the ER for heat stroke because he hasn't figured out when to say when. Thirty below and he wants to go sledding. One hundred and twenty and he wants to run races. Are all boys like this?

4. T-ball is my new hell on earth. I don't mind going to t-ball. I don't mind watching t-ball. But bringing Lucy and trying to tell her she can't play t-ball with the big kids for one hour is excruciating. Add in the heat and I think I might explode. First she runs on the field. Then I warn her. Then I chase her. Then I hold [read: trap] her in my arms. Then she screams. Then people stare. Then I sing her a song. Then she's distracted for a whole 30 seconds. Then I give her a cracker. Then I give her my phone. Then she makes a call to India. Then I take the phone away. Then she screams. Then people stare. Then I look at my watch. Fifty minutes left.

You follow me? I loathe t-ball.

5. I don't mean to go all Negative Nellie on you. It's just that when we were experiencing the worst winter ever I didn't think I'd be living a similar life style in the middle of July. Having to be quarantined when the sun is shining brilliantly through our windows is confusing. And it feels like my summer glory days are slipping right through my fingers. I can hear the clock tick tocking down and there's nothing I can do about it except pout.

But it's not all bad, I guess. Like...

6. All the back pain I've been experiencing this pregnancy is completely gone. Thanks, I think, to the high humidity. My skin is also vibrant and supple with all the water in the air. Is this why old people move to Florida?

7. My laundry pile is at record-level lows. Not because I'm so on top of it but because the kids aren't generally wearing more than their skivvies all day long.

8. Many things become "optional" in high heat. To name a few: makeup, showers, anything except a ponytail for a hair do, dinner, clothes, calorie counting, bed sheets and exercise. What am I forgetting?

Copings of Neat Freak

2011-07-15T14:23:00.000-05:00

My windows and doors are smudged with fingerprints.

My bare feet feel the scrape of crumbs and sand when I walk across our hardwoods.

There's spilled milk from cereal bowls still on the dining room table.

The dishwasher has not been unloaded.

Dishes sit in the sink.

Condensation from my iced latte pools the kitchen countertops.

When I'm not looking she scoops the yogurt with her hands.

Toys are strewn on the porch floor.

The sheets on the kids' beds are rumpled.

Whose home is this anyway? Who have I, self-proclaimed neat freak, become?

She's still in there. I let her come out every Wednesday when the house is, for a brief moment in time, restored to the state I prefer it in.

The mantle is dusted.

Dust bunnies vacuumed.

Sheets, crisp.

Towels, anew.

Windows wiped clear.

Bathtub grime be gone.

Floors scrubbed. On hands and knees.

I thought adding more mess-makers to this family would multiply to my stress. Visions of me chasing after dirty feet with damp paper towels swirled through my head. Instead I calmly remind them to take off their shoes and remind myself that Wednesday will come.

And when Thursday morning comes I can wake up and say, "What do you want to do today?!"

I've created a new me. A mish mash of who I am and who I need to be. Satisfying the order that brings my calm and allowing calm when order is out to lunch.

Transitions

2011-07-11T15:07:00.000-05:00

Summer is a funny time for blogging. There's so much to write about. So many stories to tell. So many fun pictures to post. A thousand more than during the winter months.

Ones like this and this.

But the thing about blogging is that I have to actually take the time to step away from the living to do it. And when the days are this long and this sunny and this warm and so, so full of I-don't-want-to-miss-a-single-second action, well, I choose the life of the living. We live in the north after all and these days are numbered.

But while I've been away there have been two major happenings in the Nash household. I cryptically alluded to one a few months back and it's finally come to fruition. Brian has moved jobs to a new company. Is this deju vu? Didn't I just write that very sentence a couple years ago? Such is the life of a salesman, I guess. An opportunity came along and, as they say, he [read: we] couldn't pass it up.

I'm so proud of him for being so successful so early in his career. And I don't mean success to be equal to money. Although that part is always nice, isn't it? What I mean is that Brian has a knack for creating opportunities for himself. These opportunities appear to fall out of the sky right into his lap. But I know better than that. I know he's worked hard at creating a huge network for himself. He's a people person through and through and it shows.

One of these days I'm going to write about my role in all this and what it means to be a housewife in the year 2011. While I don't contribute financially to our household income I do believe our shared decision to have me stay at home has had a major impact on Brian's professional success which has relieved the burden of being a one-income family which has left more room for us to focus on us and how to be a more happy us. It sounds so 1950s to leave the bread-winning solely to my husband but we've found a modern way to do it.

While Brian's been busy transitioning email and Blackberry contacts, I've been busy making the ol' switch-a-roo in Lucy's room. Out with the baby, in with the big girl. We are in Phase 1 on bedroom transitions before Baby #3 arrives in October. And I have to say, so far I've been pleasantly surprised. While there have been a few hairy nap and bed time routines everything seems to have smoothed itself out in about a week's time. After the novelty of freedom without crib bars wore off, she realized we meant business and now her bedtime is as easy as it was with crib.

Right now we just have a mattress on the floor but Phase 2 will put her on the bottom of the bunk beds we have on order. Phase 3, the trickiest in my opinion, will be combining William and Lucy into one room. Any advice on this matter would be much appreciated. I wouldn't be that worried if it weren't for their complete opposite sleep habits. William is a hard sleeper while Lucy is a light sleeper. William goes to bed early and wakes up early. Lucy is a night owl and most days doesn't crack an eyelid before 9 o'clock. I'm sure everything will eventually work itself out but I'm just not looking forward to the growing pains.

Summer Biz-ness

2011-07-06T14:32:00.000-05:00

We've been busy. Summer busy. When I have more to post than a boat load of pictures, I'll let you know.

Teaching Self Worth

2011-06-27T13:26:00.002-05:00

Bullying is a hot topic for sure but if I'm being honest I would say that it's a topic I never thought I would have to deal with as a parent of an extremely happy and outgoing son. He isn't the type of kid who sits shyly in the corner and waits for someone to engage him. Those are the types of kids who are bullied. Not my social butterfly. Or so I thought.

This weekend Brian and I were watching out the kitchen window as William played in the backyard with a neighbor boy who is two years older than him. William hasn't played with this boy all that much in the past mostly because he goes to daycare during the day preventing William from having the time to develop much of a relationship with him. But this boy is in the three-house radius of the neighborhood kid circle so he does show up every now and again in the evenings and on weekends.

I admit that in the past my interactions with this boy have left me with a bad taste in my mouth. I didn't like the way he played, the way he spoke or the way he treated others. It was nothing overwhelmingly obvious, just a subtle gut reaction. And those are usually the most accurate, aren't they?

The biggest thing I noticed was the absence of his parents. I am very good friends with all the parents of the kids William plays with. But I've met this kid's parents only once and that was last summer. I doubt they even remember me, my kids or our names. Which always leaves me wondering: Where do they think their 6-year-old son is while he's spending time in our backyard and why have they never swung by to say hello or see how things are going? A little weird for a six-year-old, right?

So back to this weekend when Brian and I witnessed some uncomfortable play going on between William and this boy. This boy clearly knows he's older and bigger than William. He also clearly knows that William looks up to any and all older kids and will put up with anything to have an older playmate. And he takes full advantage. He pushes William around. He makes William plays games where William is bound to lose before the game even starts. He engages William in pretend play where William is always the victim and the boy is the aggressor. He also isn't very good at following assumed house rules. For example, for no reason he turned on our garden hose and started spraying it around. This isn't a declared rule at our house but William knows he shouldn't do this at his own house and especially not at anyone else's house.

The parenting dilemma Brian and I ran into here was that William was not complaining. He didn't say anything to the boy and he didn't say anything to us. Easily either one of us could have stepped outside and put a stop to things or asked that the boy go home. But, we wondered, would that really teach William anything except that his parents would always be there to rescue, protect and swoop in?

Of course my mother bear instincts made me want to go out there and slap the kid. Hey, I'm just being honest. Rarely does a parent act on these instincts but I think we'd all be lying if we said we've never felt this way.

So what happened was this: Brian asked me to sit this one out. And I could see his point. This was boy's play and this was a matter best dealt with father to son. Had this been Lucy and another girl, I can guarantee the scenario would have unfolded much differently. That's just the nature of boys verses girls.

So after the boy went home Brian took William upstairs for a long talk. A long, stern talk. There was very little sympathy conveyed from Brian to William. And I think that was the right way to handle it. William wasn't in trouble, but Brian wanted William to know his self worth was serious business. And really, don't you think self worth should be at the center of every discipline lesson?

He asked William how he felt when he played with the boy. What did he like? What didn't he like? What did he think was right? And wrong?

And then Brian gave William the rules and tools for how he should proceed in the future. What he should say, what he should do and when it might be time to ask for help from an adult. But trying to emphasize first and foremost that William could do most of this on his own.

We didn't have to wait long to test out the effectiveness of Brian's lesson. A few hours later the boy pushed William off a skateboard in the alley behind our house. William nonchalantly came home a few minutes later and mentioned the incident in passing.

What did you do about it? Did you say anything to him? Brian asked.

Yes, but he just ran home. William said.

Later in the day the boy came over to deliver a piece of folded paper to William. William opened it. Scratched in 6-year-old letters were the words: "I am sorry."

I smiled and Brian smiled back at me.

Here's what I learned from this: Parenting is tough. It isn't all cut and dry like you think it's going to be. It's hard not to over-parent. It's hard not to be a helicopter parent. It's hard to first watch your kids get hurt or beat down so that they can then learn to stand up for themselves. I think we underestimate our kids. We try to be their protector and voice. But by teaching William that he had his own voice and could protect himself, he called someone out on their unacceptable behavior and it worked.

Sometimes I Cheat in the Kitchen

2011-06-21T14:37:00.000-05:00

When the summer months roll around I find that I don't have much motivation to turn on my oven or stove. And my family doesn't have much of an appetite for big, hearty meals anyway so it works out nicely.

Instead of soups and roasts and casseroles that are so popular around here in the colder months, I opt for cold throw-together pasta dishes or meat -- any meat -- on the grill. We definitely consume more meat in the summer months. For veggies we love cherry tomatoes and new potatoes just plain with a little salt or butter. If I only served tomatoes or potatoes for dinner my kids would think they had died and gone to heaven.

Lately there have been two items in particular that have steered me away from my make-from-scratch ways and have been oh so easy and oh so delicious.

The first is rotisserie chicken. Do you ever buy these? At first I turned up my nose thinking it was a serious crime against the homemade. But now I'm learning to love the ease of pulling meat off the bone and sticking it in a chicken salad (just add celery, halved red grapes, mayo and a squeeze of a fresh lemon) that lasts for days in the frig. My kids love it plain and Brian loves it on top of toasted whole wheat bread.

And here's the thing that really won me over: There generally isn't a cost savings to buying a whole chicken raw anyway so why not let the deli do the cooking for you? Now that I'm paying attention I've started to notice deals popping up all over. Our fancy schmancy grocer sells these babies for $5 each on Fridays. And I can usually squeeze three meals out of one chicken depending on what I'm using it for. It's a total winner.

The next item on my cheater list makes me want to put my tail between my legs and hide in the corner. I'm a little ashamed of it. It involves the word box which is pretty much banned from my kitchen. And I really wouldn't even fess up to it except that it's so incredibly delicious I feel it's my duty to pass on the recommendation.

There is a story behind how I stumbled upon this little gem. One day I was wandering through Trader Joe's when I had a huge hankering for chocolate. I blame the bun in the oven. I decided I would make brownies that afternoon but I couldn't remember if I had baking chocolate at home and I didn't want to risk buying Trader Joe's baking chocolate because I'm kind of a chocolate snob and if it went wrong I would have wasted an entire pan of brownies. So there it was, a box of Trader Joe's Brownie Truffle Baking Mix staring back at me from the shelf. Just begging to come home with me. Just this once, I promised myself.

I added the melted butter and couple of eggs as the box indicated and 30 minutes later -- Oh. My. Stars. Insanity is the best word to describe these brownies. The next day I ran out and bought two more boxes. Two because what if they ran out and I had to wait for them to restock? I wasn't taking any chances.

One word of advice: Bake these for the minimum amount of time required. They won't look done but once they are fully cooled they will be so much more fudge-y. Anyway I'm not going to say any more. Just go buy a box and see for yourself. And if you don't have a Trader Joe's near your home, I'm so sorry for dangling this carrot.

And to finish this post, so I don't appear to be a total sloth in the kitchen, I should mention that last week I took the long way and made a large batch of iced coffee concentrate from scratch. I love a good iced latte with hazelnut or vanilla in the summer but they get expensive! This one totally tastes like I got it from the posh cafe down the street for a fraction of the cost and without having to step out my front door. The recipe, complete with gorgeous step-by-step photos, can be found here.

Some notes on the final recipe: I only added a splash of half and half to my glass because I like a strong coffee taste. And instead of sugar I used just a hint of the vanilla flavored syrups that can be found in the coffee aisle at the grocery store. If you try the recipe let me know how it goes!

Making a Mark

2011-06-20T14:59:00.000-05:00

This photo could also be titled: "Baby was stubbornly facing my backbone and this was the best ultrasound picture we got."

My Lesson in Blog Advertisements

2011-06-14T11:20:00.000-05:00

A couple of weeks ago I was approached by a local private school inquiring about my interest in a link exchange. For those of you not in the blogging world this simply means I would list their company's link on my blog and they would list my blog's link on their website. You scratch my back and I'll scratch yours. It's a bit of a mischievous way for companies to use bloggers for free advertising, in my opinion.

I politely told her I didn't participate in link exchanges but that if she was interested in a paid advertising spot we could negotiate rates.

I don't participate in link exchanges because I think it misleads you, the reader. I want you to know that whenever I promote another site, product or company it is because I'm doing it for my own intentions, not because I'm getting something in return. If I started doing link exchanges I think it could start a circle of confusion about who I really am. Especially for new readers.

That said, I am open to paid advertising spots or product promotions and/or reviews when I am given the product for free and am allowed to voice my full opinions without pressure to give only a positive review. However, I will always make you, the reader, aware of the times when I have been compensated in any way to write a post. I did something similar with Sears last November.

In that giveaway post I wrote about my struggle to just be a blogger versus being a blogger who also does reviews, giveaways and has advertising spots. I believe there's a fine line where you can really sell yourself out as a writer. That said, I do spend A LOT of time on this here little space and when someone reaches out and wants to actually compensate me to say something good about them? Well that makes up for the other 365 days of the year when I don't earn a single cent. I'm not going to lie. It feels good and makes me feel like a bona fide blogger.

So back to the story. Representative of unnamed private school responded that she was interested in a paid text ad that would appear on my right-hand sidebar. We agreed on a generous yearly rate and I sent her an invoice via PayPal. In return she sent me the text and link she wanted to appear on my blog. It should be noted that she also requested some other custom HTML code that took me longer to work in than I had originally planned. But I went with it without hesitation because I figured once it was done it would be up there for a year and I wouldn't have to touch it again.

When the ad went live I listed it under the header title: Handpicked Paid Advertisers. I wanted it to be known that I had personally approved and worked with this company and it wasn't some random ad generated by AdSense or similar program.

Private School Rep quickly responded with a request to tweek the header title. Her suggestions? Handpicked Friends or Handpicked Resources.

These titles left me uncomfortable. But I gave myself an hour or so to think it over. While I did respect this school, neither myself nor any one in my family had ever been enrolled there. By listing it as a friend or resource I felt that I was promoting something to you, the reader, that I had no experience with. It felt wrong.

So I responded back to the rep telling her that I could be flexible about the header title but that I needed to include the words "paid" or "advertiser" or "sponsor" or something to indicate that I had been compensated to list this link so that I didn't mislead my readers.

She responded back to me in less than a minute to cancel the entire deal. I haven't heard from her since.

Sketchy, no?

I couldn't believe the amount of time I wasted going back and forth with this woman and she never once made it known to me that being listed as a paid advertiser was a deal-breaker.

As upset as I was about the amount of time I wasted, I was more upset that this lady thought she could get away with this type of advertising manipulation and how, until the very end, she thought I was an easy target.

If you're a blogger I have some advice: Don't sell yourself short. If something doesn't feel right, it probably isn't no matter how big of a paycheck they're waving at you. You have valuable space and it's all yours to do with however you please.

What do you think? Were my guidelines too strict? Has anything like this ever happened to you before?

Annnnnd He's Off!

2011-06-13T09:26:00.000-05:00

...without training wheels.

Based on just how quick and easy this was, I think we could have gotten out the toolbox and removed those things a lot earlier.

But...suggestions are welcome if you have tips on how to teach starting and stopping techniques. So far we've taken the approach of giving him a few pointers and then letting him figure it out on his own with repetitive practicing in front of our house.

An Ultrasound, Third Time Around

2011-06-10T11:31:00.000-05:00

I had my 20-week routine ultrasound this week. Because I go to a midwife for my OB care this is the first and likely only ultrasound I will have for the duration of my pregnancy.

Ultrasounds are such a funny thing, aren't they? You feel this "thing" within you and then you get a chance glimpse inside and every. single. time. I am astounded at just how developed and real this little being is.

Brian and I both commented after the appointment how different we felt this third time. I thought maybe it would be no big deal since it's my third. Everything seems to be running smoothly and this was just another appointment, right? In fact it was more of a hassle this go round because I had to find a daytime sitter for the other two beings in my house.

But it was so much more emotional and meaningful than I ever thought.

With my first pregnancy I was so over-the-moon about it all. This was the big halfway point. Would we find out the gender? What would he/she look like? I was excited about all the insignificant things. The ultrasound felt pretend in comparison to his actual birth. After all, we were first-time parents and everything still felt "not real." Was that baby on the monitor really inside my belly?

With my second pregnancy we were veterans. We knew what to expect on the ultrasound. We knew what a 20-week baby looked like. We made every comparison to William. But when Lucy's birth day came we were shocked. We had two kids and they were completely different. It wasn't the copy & paste we had assumed it would be. It's hard to expect something you aren't familiar with.

And that's why this third ultrasound was such a treat. We are now fully aware that this third baby is a completely new and unique being. It was not William. It was not Lucy. Who is this little person? What will he/she be like? I wondered if it was a girl or a boy. I wondered if it would keep us awake all night or sleep blissfully. I wondered if it would be an earlier walker or earlier talker? I wondered if it would be social or shy? Strong-willed or compliant? Would it have a natural inclination toward music? Art? Nature? Books? Sports? A whole new life for a chance at anything.

And that's what they don't tell you when it's your third, fourth, fifth... They don't tell you it won't be like the rest. They don't tell you how much more you will cherish the little things, the things that really matter. They don't tell you how much more relaxed you will be so that you really can enjoy those little things. They don't tell you that you'll still cry the happy tears like you did the first time. They don't tell you that you will actually love this third one with more vigor because now you know just how great it all is.

Yes, this third time around I'm discovering the sheer splendor of the miracle of life has not been diminished.

The Whole Does Not Equal the Sum of Its Parts

2011-06-08T14:49:00.000-05:00

Three things I love:

1. Old Houses
Even if said 90-year-old house does not come with central air conditioning. We have beautiful original hardwood floors, arched entry ways, a built-in buffet, coved ceilings, 12-inch baseboards, a front porch the size of a regular living room, and a gorgeous handcrafted staircase. All these things help offset the fact that our cooling system consists of two window units.

2. The Heat
Not the Miami basketball team. I'm talkin' summer. We grin and bare the long winters here in Minnesota so when summer comes I soak it all up. There's no such thing as too hot in my book. Probably because I know it won't last all that long. I love it when we have to lick our ice cream cones super fast because the heat will make them melt. I love being outside well past 10 o'clock with only a tank top and shorts on. I love when the only real choice is sprinkler or pool.

3. Being Pregnant
Aside from some downers for a few weeks in the first trimester I really do love being pregnant. I find it so amazing how my body just takes over without me having to ask it to do anything. I've never felt more like a wife, mother and overall woman when I have a bump out in front of me. And of course there's the positives of not having to shell any money over to these guys for a few months and also the fact that my chest area grows to that of a regular woman's thus making my shirts and dresses actually fit me better despite my growing size.

So, add them all up and what do you have? Unfortunately the answer is a super miserable Mama Nash. The 103-degree temperature yesterday made our old house heat up faster than the dashboard of a car parked in the sun. And our hot house made pregnant me really, really sick no matter my attempts at keeping hydrated and attempting to remain in the coolest spot: next to the window unit in our bedroom. You still won't find me ever complaining about the heat, or our house or my pregnancy. I just hope they don't all have to collide together all summer long.

Sunscreen: My Thoughts

2011-06-07T09:00:00.000-05:00

I've always been a bit sceptical of the sunscreen craze. And let's be real here. It really is a craze. Ask anyone over the age of 30 and they'll tell you they hardly ever wore sunscreen when they were younger unless it was a beach or pool day.

Now we're told to slather ourselves with the stuff from dusk to dawn no matter the season, no matter the activity. Even just driving in a car is said to pose a risk. It's darn near impossible to walk down the make-up or lotion aisles at Target and find a product that doesn't boast some sort of SPF. Why is it necessary that my eye shadow contain sun protection?

Full disclosure here: I love the sun and I love a little tanned skin. But that being said I do fully realize when my love affair has crossed the line into vice. It is possible have too much of a good thing.

And that's exactly my point. I think the sun is a good thing. I don't see it as an evil that I need to avoid. There's no doubting the fact that every person in my family is happier and healthier when there's full sun in the sky. This includes the winter season.

When William was four months old I had my first sunscreen experience with him. We took a trip to Florida and went to the beach. Before our trip I purchased a "mild" sunscreen safe for sensitive skin on newborns and infants that was supposed to be like pure water on his skin. Five minutes after application I could see that this was anything but pure water on his skin. He developed big, red blotches all over his face and both of his eyes were nearly swollen shut.

To this day I have avoided daily sunscreen use for both of my children because of that experience. I will use it when they are outside without shade for more than a half hour at a time or if they are playing in pools or lakes because of the reflection intensity. And even then I will only apply it on the most vulnerable parts of the body: face, shoulders, and back and only during the sun's most intense rays: during the morning and early afternoon hours of spring and summer.

Instead of constant sunscreen application, I opt for play where shade is readily available or I use hats and other clothing. Neither of my kids has ever suffered a sunburn worse than a little pink on their cheeks that lasts no longer than the day of exposure.

For so long I've been embarrassed to admit my sunscreen philosophies because it goes so far against popular opinions. Until now. I've finally done my research on the topic and have found my own gut instincts to be not too far from what real science is discovering. See: Sunscreen Exposed: 9 Surprising Truths.

In my opinion the most surprising truths are that: (1) the FDA has no evidence that sunscreen protects against skin cancer, (2) sunscreen inhibits the absorption of vitamin D from the sun which can subsequently suppress your immune system [See: Vitamin D and Cancer Prevention] and (3) vitamin A, a common sunscreen ingredient for reducing signs of aging, may actually speed up the development of skin cancer.

Of course I don't think we should all banish sunscreen all together. There are better sunscreens available out there. Unfortunately almost none of them are found on the shelves of any popular drug stores. Read a list of best sunscreens with links to purchase on Amazon.

When it comes to the sun and sunscreen I'm going to use the "everything in moderation approach" and no longer feel like a bad person for not slathering up.

I'm curious about your thoughts on sunscreen. Do share my thoughts or adamantly disagree? Have your opinions changed after reading some of the links?

Summer Living

2011-06-06T09:31:00.000-05:00

Mother Nature has earned some major rebound points in my book these past few days. Longest winter of my life, no spring to be spoken of, and now this, finally. Bliss.

The sun and me are like a moth to a flame. Unfortunately I've discovered my baby bump isn't as big of a fan as I am. Boo.

I spent all day Friday, Saturday and Sunday outside and when I wasn't feeling too good last night I knew I had overdone it. I'll still be outside all summer long, for sure, I'll probably just have to watch the baking of the skin. Hmph.

Lots of other things to talk about...

We have slowly, slowly, started potty training Lucy. A couple of weeks ago she woke up in the morning and told me she had to go poop. I brought her to the toilet and she proceeded to do her business. Easy as that. But not so much. She hasn't done anything since.

She's completely different from William in that she tells me when she has to go but it is followed up by zero action. A typical potty conversation goes like this:

Lucy: I have to go potty.

Me: You have to go potty?

Lucy: Nope.

And then she shakes her head violently and runs away. She obviously knows what she's doing. I hope she clues me in soon.

While the potty training commenced on the patio, Brian was busy clearing out some river rock stepping stones that had taken residence in our garage for more than a year. It was previously in our old backyard prior to us laying sod and we had been toying with the idea of recreating the pathway again but decided it might cause little feet and toes to trip. So I put all the rock up for sale on Craig's List. I was going to put it on there for free but thought maybe, just maybe, I could earn a few bucks off it. A few hours and $250 later, I'm glad I didn't give it away. Does selling unused things on Craig's List ever make you feel a bit guilty? Like stealing?

We made s'mores on Saturday night and after I was done giggling at this photo...

Notice how her face looks like it went through a garbage disposal. She bit it on the sidewalk the other day and landed face first into someone's rock retaining wall.

I was struck by this photo...

Who is this stranger boy and when did he get so old? No more high strung nerves about him falling in the fire pit. Nope. Now he carefully roasts his own marshmallows and does a dang good job to boot.

And finally, to cap off this summer-y post, I'll leave you with this video if you haven't already seen it posted to my Facebook page. Every kid deserves a dad as wild and crazy as this.

These Are The Days

2011-06-03T13:51:00.000-05:00

These are the days I dream about.

These are the days I stop to notice the little things.

These are the days I won't utter a single complaint about staying at home full time.

These are the days I don't yell, don't lose my patience and don't do things that I'll later regret.

These are the days I say "yes" to almost everything.

These are the days I when I say it's OK if they don't take a nap.

These are the days I'm a good mom.

These are the days when my heart bursts with love overflowing.

These are the days I want to remember.

These are days I hope they remember, too.

Mama Nash Goes to Washington

2011-06-01T12:29:00.000-05:00

Brian and I went to Washington, D.C. this past weekend. Did I ever mention that? Probably not. I didn't want the bad guys to think they had a free pass into our empty house. You know, all the bad guys that read my blog.

In the process I took a week vacation from the Internets. And here's a little secret: I didn't really miss it all that much. I don't think I'll ever be able to say goodbye to this here little blog but unplugging every now and again does feel pretty good.

So back to Washington...

Brian and I had this trip planned a few months ago as we wanted to attend a friend's priestly ordination. More on that later. It deserves its own post. So we used that event as a good excuse to take a kid-free break. It was wonderful! I didn't so much need a break from the kids and from motherhood as I just needed a long stretch of uninterrupted time with my honey. We agreed that every penny spent was totally worth it.

It's getting easier to leave the kids as they get older. I don't miss them as much when I know that they are just as excited to take a trip (to Camp Grandma's this time) as we are. I realize this whole process will start all over again with the arrival of Nash the Third in October when we will once again be in a kid-free vacation blackout. I don't like spending nights away from my babes until they are at least a year old. So alas, this was our little babymoon.

Just a few hours into our trip and we had lunch on the White House lawn. OK, so we weren't actually inside the gates, but still.

Brian in front of a T-Rex at the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History. This is a great museum if you have kids with you!

I'm kind of obsessed with our our nation's capitol building and all the allure that goes with it. This picture was taken after a little private tour -- so cool!

These next two pictures were taken long after me and my baby bump cashed out for the night. Brian was out with our other college friends who joined us on the trip. I suspect this photo was snapped after a number of alcoholic beverages so I have to say: not half bad!

If you're not familiar with the D.C. monuments and memorials, this is the World War II memorial in the foreground and the Lincoln memorial off in the distance. When traveling to D.C., hands down, night is the best time to see the monuments.

Brian, standing on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. The Washington Monument in the distance.

Our Washington, D.C. Stops:

We grabbed some deli sandwiches and ate lunch in President's Park which is just outside The White House gates.
Smithsonian Museum of Natural History. This is home to popular attractions such as dinosaur bones and the Hope Diamond plus a lot of other really cool stuff. I enjoyed it but Brian liked it a lot better than I did. He couldn't get enough. In a previous trip I went to the Smithsonian Museum of American History which I enjoyed just a little bit more. Natural History is more Discovery Channel, American History is more pop culture-ish. Best part? All these museums are free.
The capitol building. You can get a free tour of the capitol building by visiting your state senator's or congressman's office. We got our tour thanks to Senator Klobuchar's office. If the senate is in session it's also worth it to try to get senate gallery passes.
Washington Monument, Lincoln Memorial, World War II Memorial, Vietnam Memorial and Korean Memorial. We saw all these at night. Breathtaking!
The Newseum. I was totally in love with the Newseum but I have accepted the fact that not everyone is a news junkie as myself. There was a lot of 9/11 stuff, Katrina coverage, sections of the Berlin Wall, some of the most notorious criminal stories and, my favorite, Tim Russert's actual office the day he died. If none of this stuff interests you, then skip it. Especially so because at $22/person, the Newseum is not cheap.

I've only been to D.C. twice so I'm no expert. That said, I do so love that city so if you're traveling there in the near future hit me up for other tips and recommendations.

No Complaining Today

2011-05-23T15:09:00.001-05:00

Yesterday I was getting a pedicure -- a pedicure -- when tornado sirens went off. Tornado sirens are no stranger around these parts so I didn't freak out like the woman next to me who had just moved to Minnesota from Florida.

I texted Brian, who was home with napping children, to see what it was all about.

He replied: "Nothing. It was just a test."

A tornado test? On a Sunday afternoon? Later we will be going over what exactly a tornado siren means on any other day except the first Wednesday of the month at 1:00, which is the actual day and only time for a tornado siren test.

So instead, as I sat enjoying the chair massage and getting my toes painted, I tagged down my friend, Amy, who was on top of all the tornadic action on Twitter. She told me I would be fine. It was all North of me. I laid my head back and relaxed.

I knew something was different when I got in my car and the local radio station was airing live weather coverage instead of "80s, 90s and Today!" I knew something was different when I got home and saw my Facebook and Twitter feed lit up like a Christmas tree. I knew something was different when the news anchors on the 10 o'clock news were standing in front of television monitors instead of seated behind their desks. I knew something was different when I caught glimpses of the first photos coming in.

And it was different. This time, instead of hearing about and imagining tornado damage and destruction across the country, it was striking just a few miles from home. My home.

But I think the hardest part of it all was that it struck North Minneapolis. If it were possible to handpick a part of the Twin Cities that could best absorb and rebuild from a tornado, North Minneapolis would be last on the list. North Minneapolis is an area littered with vacant homes that have long since been foreclosed on. The store front windows are decorated with steel bars. And this small area, by far, is home to the largest number of homicides in all of Minnesota. Every metro area has one sore spot and this is ours.

When the 10 o'clock news was over I climbed the stairs of my beautiful home whose only real flaw, at the moment, was some gutters in dire need of cleaning. I turned on the light in the bathroom because I had working electricity. I washed my face with warm water because my hot water heater didn't have a gas leak. I walked those newly painted toes down the hall into my bedroom and slid them between my clean, soft sheets.

I laid in bed wide awake for a long time thinking about those people on the other side of the river who woke up that very morning in a bedroom just like mine and now were sleeping in a Red Cross shelter with the rest of their neighbors.

I haven't thought of a way to help just yet. But I think trying my best not to complain about my own life today is a good start.

I know the Minneapolis tornado destruction has been minimized by tornado stories out of Alabama and now Missouri. But it's different when it strikes this close to home. It just is.

I Hate Kid Birthday Parties

2011-05-19T10:23:00.001-05:00

How many of you did I just offend with that title? There's probably even some of my readers who have invited us to their children's birthday parties.

It's OK. I get it. There's a lot of pressure to put them on.

William is 4 1/2 and has begun to be invited to many birthday parties. I cringe whenever I get the tell tale little envelope with the SpongeBob sticker over the flap. Here's why I think they suck:

1. Kids are the center of their own universe. My kids LOVE getting on the phone and calling a relative on their birthday and singing to them. They love to help blow out candles and eat birthday cake. Sometimes they can even sit back patiently and watch someone else open up presents. Sometimes. But get them into a Chuck E Cheese or a bouncy castle or some other over-stimulated place and they've long forgotten the whole reason they are there in the first place. They don't care that it's your kid's birthday. Which leads me to my next point:

2. They're impersonal. Your kid is turning six this year?! Guess what? So is every other kid in their kindergarten class. No one except the members of your own family thinks this is very special.

3. They feed the clutter culture. I really don't want to be spending $10-$30 on a gift for your kids. Especially if our relationship is such that I wouldn't already be buying a gift if there were no party. I hardly spend that on my own kids and now I have pressure to find the perfect gift for a kid I barely know. I don't like hunting through Target aisles wondering what toys or games your family might already have or what sort of thing your kid is in to.

And then there's the party favors. What a waste! How many party favors do you think haven't made it into the trash after a week?

4. They're expensive. For both the party-goer (see #3) and the party-thrower. Just imagine if you took all the money it cost to host a birthday party and did something really intimate with your child. Take them out for a fancy dinner. Go to a baseball game. See a play at a children's theater. Go to an amusement park. All these options are much more special and much more memorable.

5. They are time consuming. Almost all birthday parties are held in the evening or on the weekends. My husband works long hours so when he's here, it's family time. I don't really want to use that precious time to trek my kid to a birthday party for a few hours and then either wait there until it ends or have to trek back to pick him up. It's not my idea of time well spent. I won't go out of my way to avoid your party but I also won't go out of my way to attend it.

I don't hate birthday celebrations for kids. It's actually quite the opposite. I think birthday parties have done a disservice to birthdays in general. They're so cookie-cutter it drives me crazy.

When one of my kids has a birthday I can't believe how much they've grown, matured, changed. It's all so amazing to me because I'm the one who held them when they weighed just a few pounds. I want to celebrate that. I want them to feel as special as I think they are.

I know that I had a few birthday parties when I was younger but I honestly only know this because I have proof in photographs. I don't really remember them.

I do remember one year, I think I was turning sixteen, when my mom let me have a sleepover with a few of my best friends on a school night! Our high school hockey team had made it to State and we were all going to watch the game on TV. It was memorable because we all got to do something out of the ordinary together. And probably also because I was older and the girls that were invited are still some of my best friends today.

I don't know if I'll ever throw a traditional birthday party for my kids. I don't know yet if this decision will anger my kids. So far I haven't heard any complaints. At a recent party for his cousin at Chuck E Cheese William exclaimed, "Mom, I want to come here for MY birthday!" And I told him we could. With just Daddy and Lucy and me. And he thought that would be great.

New Design - Yay!

2011-05-16T22:19:00.000-05:00

If you're viewing this in an RSS reader quick click on over here to see my new design.

I kind of love it. And I did it all on my lonesome. It probably took me ten times as long as it would have if I paid a designer but it feels SO much more gratifying.

I love how the header captures the essence of what it is to be living in Casa del Mama Nash right now. It makes me giggle every time I view my site. William so flips cartwheels in the living room and Lucy so twirls pirouettes on her tippy toes. The baby, of course, is still cooking but at least his/her presence is represented on this here little blog.

I still might monkey with my menu buttons and I need to make a Mama Nash button for all of you to grab and share, but in the meantime I hope you likey. This space is feeling much more a part of me every day.

This Is Real Life [Or: About This Third Pregnancy]

2011-05-16T08:00:00.011-05:00

Have you ever noticed it's so much easier to talk about a storm or a difficult time in your life after it's already over and you've had time to evaluate and digest your feelings?

This post is going to be me all cracked open. Not just the surface me who likes to keep up appearances.

It's about my third pregnancy and how I had a lot of mixed feelings about it. Both before and after I got pregnant.

I'm writing about this because I think a lot of women feel the same way. Even when a pregnancy is planned. I think a lot of women are reluctant to reveal their feelings because it might send a message that they don't love their baby. I'm here to say that I love this little unborn baby with every ounce of my being. This is not about them. It's about me. It's about giving up of one's self and learning to live in faith.

Some time last Fall the baby bug hit Brian. This is not a huge surprise. The baby bug hits Brian about every other hour. Even when I'm already pregnant. This man loves babies and would keep me eternally pregnant if it were up to him. I love this about him. So many other couples have an opposite situation where the woman really has to convince her spouse to have another baby. This has never been us.

When we got pregnant with William we knew were ready and we were excited. When we got pregnant with Lucy we knew we were ready and we were excited. When it was time for baby #3 Brian knew we were ready and he was excited. I was not.

It's hard for me to describe exactly how I felt. I knew our family was not complete. When I looked far into our future I saw many more Nashes gathered around our dinner table. But when it came to the here and now, I did not have the overwhelming sense of excitement I had experienced with my previous pregnancies.

I threw out every excuse. "I'm going to Napa. I can't be pregnant in Wine Country." "I don't want to get pregnant now. Then I'll be due in the middle of the summer." "Let's just wait until after the holidays. They're always so busy."

I didn't want to avoid pregnancy but I was definitely using every excuse to delay it.

Maybe it was because I already had two kids that kept my life rich and full and busy. Maybe it was because I already had a very boyish boy and a very girlie girl. Maybe it was because I still vividly remembered that last uncomfortable month of my pregnancy with Lucy.

But after the first of the year Brian put a stop to it all. He showed me the calendar and pointed out that if I got pregnant now the new baby and Lucy would have the exact same spacing as her and William. It was time. And I knew it.

At this time you should not assume that Brian was forcing me into something I didn't want. In fact it was the exact opposite. Sometimes I think God speaks more clearly to my husband and at this time it felt like a gentle nudge back on to the path I should be following.

And besides, I didn't not want to have another baby. I just wasn't over-the-moon about the idea of it.

So fast forward a few weeks to early February when I found out that I got pregnant almost immediately. And that's how it always works, doesn't it ladies? When you're really trying...nothing. When you have no opinion on the matter...two lines.

Those first few weeks of early pregnancy flew by unnoticed. Some days I even forgot I was pregnant altogether having to be reminded I needed to order from the non-alcoholic side of the bar menu. Insert sad face.

And then in late February I was hit like a fast-moving train out of nowhere with those first trimester blues. And this time there were a lot of factors working against me. Brian was working a lot. The weather was awful. We were experiencing one of our worst and long-lasting winters on record. The kids were antsy indoors all day and were going stir crazy with a mom who wouldn't take them out. I was nauseous. Nothing sounded good to eat and anything that did sound good to eat required a trip to the grocery store, a task that seemed completely impossible at the time. I had no energy and was tired all the time. It took everything out of me to get out of bed before ten o'clock and even then I was counting down until nap time and then until bed time. Emotionally I felt blah. Nothing excited me. But I wasn't sad or angry either. I did, however, feel a lot of guilt for not being the wife and mother that my family deserved.

I distinctly remember sobbing to Brian in bed on the night of my 30th birthday. With all these icky feelings I somehow thought my birthday would be a bright spot. Something to look forward to. But the day came and went without a lot of pomp and circumstance. But let's be honest here. No production for my birthday could have ever been big enough to dig me out of my hole.

At the time I could see no light at the end of the tunnel. Not only was I not excited about this pregnancy before it occurred, now it was making me feel like crap and making me worse off than I was before. I wasn't mad at the baby. In fact, at that time I don't think I even considered that there was a little being inside of me. And perhaps that was the whole problem to begin with.

So by now you're probably wanting to know how I got better. And I can say with full certainty that I'm not only better than I was in those dark days, I'm better than I was before I got pregnant.

I can't place my finger on one single thing that was my cure-all but there were small things that led to big changes. Hearing the baby's heartbeat for the first time certainly gave perspective. Being able to eat without wanting to heave helped too. And so did the ever so slight warm-up in the weather. Getting showered, putting on makeup, doing my hair and picking out a few new clothes also had an amazing impact on my energy level.

But I have to say that the biggest factor of them all was my decision to change my attitude. Pregnancy, all pregnancies, are a gigantic leap of faith. Pregnancy, in my mind, is one of the best examples of what it means to give up one's self for another. Marriage is another great example. Your whole being -- your body, your mind, your appetite, your emotions -- all of it is up for grabs when you are pregnant.

But the real secret behind self-sacrifice is that it only leaves you barren and deserted if you let it. Maybe this is why our divorce rate is so high. We live in a selfish culture constantly telling us that we deserve this and we deserve that. We've forgotten: No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends. John 15:13

So I'm here now. On the other side of my dark hole. And I've come out a better person. I'm so excited for the path I've been put on. I'm happy for busy children who fill me up. I'm happy for a busy husband who brings home a paycheck. I'm happy for the spring weather. I'm happy for filling meals that don't make me sick. I'm happy for this big, growing belly and the tiny flutters I feel within it. I'm happy for my cozy bed and I'm happy when it's time to get out of it.

Mostly I'm happy that I took a giant leap into uncertainty and came out with a whole heap of certainty.

Random Happenings

2011-05-13T14:37:00.000-05:00

Written last night (Thursday) but published this afternoon due to more than 12 hours of downtime on Blogger.com. Yeah...I might be ready to switch to Wordpress.

Blogger is currently unavailable due to maintenance so I’mtyping this in Word so I don’t lose my mojo. I’m thinking of following the crowd and moving to Wordpress. But I’m scared. Will I lose my archives? My comments? My template? And speaking of template, I need a new header with impending baby. I’m feeling the need for a new design anyway.

I saw William for like an hour today. That’s it. And now I won’t see him until Sunday no less. He had school this morning and then a lunchdate with a friend, who happens to be a girl. When he got home, he and I made chocolate chip cookies until Nana cameto pick him up. His BFF cousin is intown from New York so they’re spending a few days together at Camp Nana. It’s a nice break for him and for me.

He’s challenging me right now with his need for constantactivity and companionship. His behavioris superb so I really shouldn’t complain but sometimes I just wish he couldplay quietly for twenty minutes by himself. Actually, ten. I would take tenminutes if he offered it. But it’s whohe is so I try my best to honor that. And even though I say I’ll indulge in the quiet and the stillness, thetruth is I’m already missing his chatty mouth and his squirmy body trying tosquish closer to mine on the sofa. Ilove that boy.

Brian worked from home this afternoon so I went to Target bymyself while Lucy was napping. Holydollar bills ya’ll. I spend way moremoney when I have no kids with me. Whoever says kids cost a lot of money has never taken a handful of themto the store. Any mom knows that as soonas she walks in the store it’s a ticking time bomb until all hell breaks looseso the necessities is all you really have time to grab. Next time someone asks me if I use couponsI’m going to say, “No. I bring the kidswith me.”

Tonight Brian is at our church’s Men’s Club meeting where hewill be elected to the Board. This is nosmall feat, you guys. Those of you whoknow our parish know that it is very large and very influential and verylocally prominent, even among non-Catholics. Honestly, when we first moved here we weren’t sure we wanted to jointhis parish because we were under the assumption it was a bit clique-y. And maybe it is. But we joined anyway and immersed ourselvesand we have been so, so, so happy that it’s a part of our neighborhood.

So anyway Brian started attending Men’s Club meetings inSeptember just for the fun of it and seven months later he was nominated and now elected forthe 10-member Board. Ten members! Andhe’s one of them! At 29 years-old, noless. (What a young buck he stillis!) Of course, this means a lot more sacrificingin terms of time on my end but since I’ve been somewhat limited in myvolunteering capabilities I’m going to go ahead and look at it as doing my partto give back. Or at least that’s whatI’ll tell myself.

I’m starting to feel my little bun move around a lot moreconsistently now. Feeling the baby moveis definitely my favorite part of being pregnant. It’s like a small token of appreciation fromGod for putting up with the rest of the not-so-great parts of beingpregnant. But I really do love beingpregnant. So you won’t hear me complaintoo much. I hope.

On Saturday Brian and Lucy will join William at Camp Nana’sand because I already had a previous engagement scheduled for Saturday evening,I won’t be joining them. SecretAdmission: I’m kind of glad I had a previous engagement scheduled for Saturdayevening. It means I will have the wholehouse to myself for a night. I don’tknow if that’s ever happened. And sinceBrian is taking the family vehicle and I have no idea how to drive his crappystick shift car I’ll be forced to stay at home. (Dear Crappy Stick Shift Car: Don't take offense. I love you. You cost us next to nothing and require little to no maintenance. Please don't die.) I will, however, be attending the engagement. Whichhappens to be a girl’s night out. Ithink I’m really looking forward to this time alone. But I also think I’m really glad it’s only for one night.

Spring, Where I Live

2011-05-11T08:00:00.001-05:00

All pictures were taken by me in either our very own front or back yard.

P.S. I kind of love my camera and am happy to say it isn't a super duper expensive DLSR, either.

My Mother's Day

2011-05-10T17:46:00.000-05:00

My Mother's Day was pretty great this year. I'm not one of those moms who likes to pretend she's not a mom to celebrate Mother's Day. Instead I like to spend Mother's Day doing all the fun parts of motherhood while I let someone else do the not-so-fun parts (i.e. changing diapers, getting up early, cleaning up after meals, etc.).

As a tradition we usually get all fancied up and go out somewhere nice for brunch. This year we did just that at a great French restaurant not too far from our house. We dined on strawberry crepes, croissants with fancy spreads, blue crab cake omelets, French toast and smoked salmon with goat cheese. But I have to say, hands down, my favorite part of the meal was my Virgin Mary cocktail.

After the meal Mother Nature, as if on cue, opened up the clouds to a light, peaceful rain. The kids napped and I sipped a cup of coffee while I conversed with Brian and caught up on some television shows.

Hey, here's my first belly shot with this pregnancy. I thought it would be a good addition to a Mother's Day post. I bet I'm bigger than you thought, aren't I? They tell me your third pops out a lot quicker so I'm sticking with that excuse.

How was your Mother's Day? I hope it was grand and I hope, above all, I hope you were loved.

Thursday Doldrums

2011-05-05T12:12:00.001-05:00

I want to write today. I intended on writing today. But I'm feeling uninspired. And, in my experience, an uninspired writer leads to lackluster writing. No matter how I try, I can't write a quality post when I don't feel like it.

I had a good day yesterday. The sun was shining and it was my cleaning day so I got to work scrubbing away winter's residue on the windows and taking down cobwebs on the screens that have been hidden away for so long. It wasn't extremely warm but I opened the windows anyway and instantly my house smelled fresh. I love that.

I cleaned the bathroom. Dusted the main floor. Including the window blinds. Vacuumed the area rug and the stairs and under the kitchen table and in all the nooks and crannies. I mopped the hardwood floors and scrubbed the kitchen floor on my hands and knees. I paid the bills. Balanced the checkbook. Finished three loads of laundry. Put dinner together. And I took a shower. I even blew dry (blow dried?) my hair and ran a flat iron threw it.

After that I still had time to sit in the sun's rays for a half hour and throw around the ball in the backyard with the kiddos.

With my house in order, today's agenda consisted of me and Lucy running some shopping errands for some upcoming birthdays while William was in school. When William was finished with school we would have our lunch. Some would take a rest. Some might go outside to play. And then I had chicken and veggies on the grill for tonight's dinner menu.

But alas, instead I woke before six bells to the sound of my four-year-old throwing up. Since then I've been shuffling in and out of his room every ten minutes. It's noon and we're all still in the clothes we woke up in. Except the four-year-old who has had a much-needed bath from said sickness. The washing machine will not get a break today. And the shopping will not be had. And I'm not sure chicken on the grill sounds so appetizing anymore.

And that, my dear readers, is the best description of what it is to be a stay-at-home mom. Or a mom at all. Just when you think you've got it all together, the gears are greased and running smoothly, those little ones throw a wrench in the whole thing.

So today we'll sit in our comfy clothes and watch too much television and hope that tomorrow brings a better day.

Planned Pregnancies

2011-04-29T12:33:00.000-05:00

As I am beginning to announce my pregnancy to more and more people outside our close circle of family and friends I have to admit that I've been taken aback by one common, recurring question:

"So, was this planned?"

Does this strike anyone else as just a tad impolite? Or am I being too sensitive?

I thought three kids was still in the realm of socially normal but perhaps because we already have been blessed with one child from each gender they assume we've reached our quota?

For the record, all three of our pregnancies have been planned. And yet, I feel guilty even just writing that out. Because what if they weren't? Does it matter? Does the unplanned child matter less? Is the unplanned child loved less? Is the unplanned child a throw-away? An excuse for us to walk away and say, "I'm so glad I'm not in their shoes!"? A way to catch the parents in some "embarrassing mistake" that surly has a drastic, catastrophic consequences?

Unless the mother is a blithering mess of uncertainty about what this new pregnancy might mean for the future, what does the answer to this question matter?

While I, myself, have never experienced the emotions that come into play when a mother is surprised with a positive pregnancy test, I have experienced phone calls from family and friends in this situation.

Some conversations have started out with tears of exasperation. Some have been delighted to be put in a situation they never knew they wanted. Some of these situations have ended with the devastating discovery of a miscarriage. But most have ended with a pink-skinned, squirmy, glorious new baby. A new baby who is loved without end. A new baby whose parents, by now, have long forgotten was not in their plan. A new baby whose parents, by now, have realized this new life was in the bigger plan.

You should know that by the time any mother announces her pregnancy to you, chances are she's already known she's been pregnant for several weeks. In these several weeks there's a good chance she's overcome any anxious emotions that can get the best of newly pregnant mothers, whether planned or not. And most of the time that anxiety is eventually replaced by pure bliss. [I'm going to write about my own initial mixed feelings on my current pregnancy later.]

So the next time you feel the curiosity bug getting the best of you, do yourself a favor and bite your tongue and smile and be happy.

My Two-Year-Old

2011-04-27T15:02:00.000-05:00

My two-year-old is extremely stylish. She will put on and wear anything that has to do with being like a princess.

My two-year-old especially loves shoes. But she hates her tennis shoes. After I put on a pair of her Maryjane's, she will promptly run around outside and play in the mud like a tomboy.

My two-year-old does not have a food that appears in a "dislike" column. She is not a big breakfast or lunch-eater but she devours second and sometimes third helpings for dinner.

My two-year-old also has a to-die-for metabolism. However, I was excited to learn this week that she has jumped from the tenth to twentieth percentile in weight for her age category. She also jumped from the 65th to 85th in height. She might just be walking a runway some day.

My two-year-old has a HUGE sweet tooth. Her favorite? Cock-let. Oh get your head out of the gutter. That's her word for chocolate. She doesn't yet know her colors but she can spot an M&M's package from a mile away yelling, "MMs! MMs! MMs!" when we're at the grocery store.

My two-year-old does not discriminate between her mommy or her daddy and she rarely, if ever, has any separation anxiety. Except in the morning. Then it's all about Dad. "Daddy hold you." "Go work with Daddy." "Go see Daddy."

My two-year-old has the verbal language of a three-year-old. She will repeat and remember just about any word or phrase you tell her.

MOST of the time my two-year-old has a sweet and carefree personality. But when she doesn't, watch out. She will not be talked or persuaded into anything. (I kind of like this about her.)

My two-year-old likes toys a lot more than her older brother. She is also much better at playing quietly by herself.

My two-year-old doesn't really like television. Except for Sesame Street. She will watch Sesame Street from start to finish without disruption.

My two-year-old goes to bed like a breeze. And she sleeps from 7:30 to 8:30 almost every single day.

But my two-year-old is a picky sleeper. She must have her pig pillow, nukie, Jellycat Bunny and blankie or she will not go to sleep. She also does not like sleeping in the car or at anyone else's house except her own.

My two-year-old is a crazy light sleeper. One creak in the floor boards and she's standing up. She also still wakes up in the middle of the night at least once (usually more) per week. But she goes back to sleep easily after one sip of water and being covered up again.

My two-year-old's favorite books are "Olivia" and "Harold and Purple Crayon." I love the way she pronounces Olivia, "O-lib-ya."

My two-year-old's favorite activities are singing, dancing and anything to do with being outside.

My two-year-old does not walk. She prances. And when she falls, as prancers often do, she hops up quickly and declares, "I'm OK!"

My two-year-old has cheeks the size of Texas. And every one comments on them. I hope they never go away. I'm sure she might hope otherwise when she gets older.

My two-year-old truly lights up my life. Contrary to what others might say, two really is my most favorite age. Frustrating, for sure, but a thousand times more hilarious, sweet and can't-stand-it cuteness.

Happy Birthday to my Little Lucy Girl!

Just Breathe

2011-04-20T15:25:00.000-05:00

There is A LOT going on in the Nash family as of late. Unfortunately not much of it can be shared here. I hate cryptic sentences like that. Don't you? Twitter, Facebook, Blogs. Why do people do it? Just say it! Right? But this time I really have to hold my tongue. Hopefully soon I'll be able to share all the details.

So, because of that, there's not much else to say before we leave for my Mom's house for the Easter Triddum. However, I did come across these funny photos from last week of my kids doing their best yoga poses. I'll leave you with that. Enjoy!

Downward-facing Dog

Three-legged Dog

On A Soap Box

2011-04-14T09:00:00.002-05:00

Vaccines are a hot button issue to be sure. It's a topic I've written about before and one that can be dangerous for bloggers to pursue. There are many different stances and many different reasons for a stance. I can respect that.

But...

...I get upset when incorrect information about vaccines hazes the judgment of parents and thus leads to poor decision-making.

Of course, I'm speaking about Andrew Wakefield’s fraudulent study suggesting a connection between the MMR vaccination and autism.

Just this week the Minnesota Department of Health confirmed a 17th case of measles in the Twin Cities.

If a parent chooses not to vaccinate his/her child it's easy to say that's their choice. It's their right. And it is. But it's careless to say that that decision doesn't affect anyone else. Because, you see, the MMR vaccination series does not begin until a child's first birthday. So any infant under the age of 1 year is at risk of acquiring the infection.

And that's exactly what's happened here. Six of the 17 reported cases were under a year old and thus too young to receive the vaccine if that were the parent's intentions. And, of course, being that young makes the infected infant that much more vulnerable to the serious complications that can occur with the measles. Learn more about the measles from the CDC website.

I want to be pro-choice when it comes to vaccines. I certainly can understand the fears and worries on the other side of the fence. But when it affects someone who is too young to have a choice, there has to be a better answer. Certainly popular opinion and fear-mongering cannot replace scientific evidence, can it?

OK, getting off my high horse now.

All About Lucy

2011-04-13T11:09:00.003-05:00

Two quick stories about my almost 2-year-old on this Wednesday morning.

1. Check out these pictures.

To me this just explains so much about what it means to have more than one child. Here she is doing everything William hates and she's loving it. (a) She's eating dinner. A lot of it. (b) She's eating chicken. A lot of it. (c) Her favorite part of the chicken-on-the-grill is the fatty, scorched, crunchy, salty skin. Which, I must say, she could definitely use in that tiny little body of hers. [Don't let those big cheeks fool you. She is tiiiiiny.]

Sometimes I find Brian and myself teetering on that fine line of still treating her like the baby because, well, she still is the baby. For now anyway. So yesterday I pulled all the meat off a chicken drumstick for her and cut it up into nice bite-sized pieces. And she ate them. All of them. And when she was finished she was asking for more and pointing to another drumstick on the platter.

By now the rest of the family was finished eating so instead of taking the time to cut up another piece of meat I told Brian to just give her the whole thing. I think she thought she'd died and gone to heaven. It was like her equivalent of a lollipop. While the rest of us had moved on to chocolate chunk and almond cookies, Luce was still mawing down on her chicken leg. My little lady.

2. Lucy didn't get a chance to nap yesterday until 3:00 which meant she was still wide-eyed and bushy-tailed at 9:30 last night. She ran around the living room in her pajamas while Brian worked simultaneously on the phone and on his laptop on a time-sensitive project for work. I sat next to him on the couch trying to place toothpicks on my eyelids to stay awake.

Lucy went back by our radiator and grabbed a couple of magnetic alphabet letters we keep there and brought them to me.

I held one up, "What letter is this?"

"P!" She exclaimed.

I looked at the plastic letter and indeed it was the letter P. I thought it might be a fluke. So I held up the next letter and asked her what it was.

She took a little longer this time, thinking quietly. Then she yelled, "Q!" with a giant smile on her face.

What was going on?! Where have I been while my 1-year-old had learned her letters? [Of course when it comes to genius-like activities her age will suddenly go from an almost 2-year-old back down to a 1-year-old to make it all seem so much more impressive. Don't pretend you don't do the same thing with your own kids.]

After I quizzed her on the rest of the letters I discovered she knew about 75% of them. And I'm not saying that we should start her application for Harvard now. Certainly it's not earth-shattering that a girl of her age knows her letters. But I am slightly in awe that she somehow learned these all without any formal teaching exercise.

Maybe she's a good eavesdropper when I'm going over phonics with William. Or maybe she watches too much Sesame Street. (Or maybe, based on the outcome, she's not watching enough Sesame Street!) Whatever it was it made me feel proud and slightly guilty all at the same time.

Is this a second-born thing? Have your second-, third-, etc. born children surprised you with something they knew without you knowing how they learned it?

A 4-year-old and 2-year-old [Almost]

2011-04-12T09:00:00.001-05:00

Living in Minnesota, with such long winters, it is easy to see distinct differences in age development when it comes to outside play from summer to summer. No year is exactly the same. There's the stroller stage, the crawling/dirt-eating stage, the climbing stage, the riding-my-bike stage, the independent stage and so on.

We have the perfect house location and backyard to accommodate all those stages. We live on a corner which provides ample sidewalk space to ride one's bike/scooter within the agreed upon boundaries. For backyard play we've got two things going for us: (a) it's completely fenced in and (b) my kitchen window faces every possible angle. I can prep for meals and supervise all at the same time.

At nearly two-years-old Lucy now pleads to put her shoes on as soon as she hears her big brother utter the word "outside." And this year I've obliged. She can play in the backyard by herself as long as the fence gates are tightly closed and I'm stationed at the kitchen counter.

But yesterday I took this picture and my heart wept for her for just a bit.

She's finally got the green light to join her big brother outside and what does he do? Leaves the confines of the yard to join the big kids to do big-kid things.

She never complained once. But she did stand there for quite some time. Just watching. I don't know what was going through her head. I was never the younger sibling. As the eldest I was always the one who got do things first. I was never left behind but I'm sure I did a lot of the leaving behind without thinking twice.

I don't want to dampen William's spirit. He's four and he should be able to embrace the small amount of independence I've given him. He's never once broken an outside rule. He stays within the boundaries I give him and he always comes as soon as I beckon. I don't want to take away privileges that have been so well respected.

But at the same time I want him to have empathy for Lucy and her small-ness and her inability to have as much independence as he does. How do I do that? How do I keep things "fair"? And how do I keep from always trying to keep things "fair" because I know they never will be?

Such is the internal debate of a mother with multiple children. I better get used to it.

7 Things from this Weekend: Spring/Summer Edition

2011-04-11T11:38:00.000-05:00

1. We ate lunch outside. This is a popular tradition in our house nearly every single day when the weather allows.

2. We raked. Two weeks ago we were shoveling six inches of snow. Now we're raking. Because it snowed so early this season, there was still a lot of leaves and sticks to be picked up that was covered all winter long by a thick blanket of snow. Here's hoping the beautiful new lawn we put in last year comes back again this year!

3. We went on a long walk. It really wasn't that long. For us, anyway. According to MapMyRUN it was three miles. We've been known to do double that on a nice night in the summer with our Phil&Ted's stroller. But whatever the distance I am hur-ting today. Maybe it's the pregnant body or maybe it's just dusting off all the cobwebs from a long winter of too much inactivity. My knee was absolutely screaming at me when I tried to get out of bed this morning. And I've never been one to have knee troubles. Yowch! But the only way to work out the kinks is to keep going so I'll be out there again this week chugging away.

4. We grilled. In fact, we had quite the summer dinner. Brian grilled brats and beef hotdogs that were served on whole wheat buns with ketchup, mustard and dill pickles. For a side I made roasted cherry tomatoes, a staple in our house during the warm months. If you offered my kids a cookie or some cherry tomatoes, I seriously think they would pick the tomatoes. We heart these!

5. We had root beer floats. I added vanilla ice cream and root beer to the grocery list and no one complained. Imagine that! Does anything remind you of summer more than a icy, refreshing root beer float?

6. We undressed. Well, not all the way, people! But it was so nice for a change to get ready for mass on Sunday morning and not worry about a coat or putting an undershirt on the kids or getting tights on under Lucy's dress. And the time-saving difference in these small tasks is really incredible. It's so easy and quick to get out the door. (By the way, I think this is the biggest difference between parenting in the North and parenting in the South.)

7. We kept our eye to the sky. High humidity, wind, incredible temperature changes. We all know what it means. Tornadic activity is one of Brian's favorite phrases. It is kind of fun to say. Try it. We only ended up with some lightening and rain here but other parts of the Midwest weren't so lucky. Can you believe it was just a couple of weeks ago that they were issuing blizzard warnings and now the tornado sirens are going off? I seriously love where we live.

Nash, Party of Five

2011-04-08T09:49:00.000-05:00

The Nash family is expanding. Well, first I'll expand, then our family will expand. Come October.

Happy Friday!

Note: Not my baby. Photo credit here.

More details coming soon!

Young Watson

2011-04-07T14:27:00.000-05:00

William: Call me Detective William!

Brian: OK, Detective William.

William: Hmmm...I need a mystery to solve. [Looks around and suddenly spots our recycling bin.] I know! I'm going to figure out who drank all these beers!

Brian: Hmmm...

William: Daddy, did you drink all these beers?

Brian. Maybe...

William: I have solved the case!

To Summer Days Ahead

2011-04-04T10:46:00.000-05:00

There is one small patch of snow left in my backyard. And with rain (like acid on snow) and some afternoon sunshine, it should be gone by the end of the day. I thought about taking a picture but I don't want to submit you to the mess that is the yard. Every year I wonder just how all that dirt and mud will disappear. Will we ever be able to run through green grass in our bare feet again? But somehow, every year, it works out.

William dirtied the wheels of his brand new scooter this weekend. And as I watched him glide up and down the sidewalk, amazed at how he's progressed with balance and all that, I noticed just the tiniest hint of a tulip or daffodil trying to push through the cold, damp earth. It gives me hope and it gives me faith. There's a cycle to all this madness. Some years it's early, some years it's painfully late. But it never ceases to happen.

This morning I may have agreed to overschedule myself a bit. The Spring Parks & Rec brochure is out and registration is open. William is at the beautiful age of 4. Old enough to do a lot of the activities.

"Do you want to do T-ball or swimming lessons at an outdoor pool?"

"I want to do T-ball AND swimming!"

"OK, but if you could only choose one, which one would you choose?"

"Ummm....T-ball!"

"Really?" I asked, a little forlornly. I had dreams of baking in that gloriously warm sunlight during his 10 AM lesson followed by lunch and a day at the pool for the three of us.

"OK," he said, "I guess I want to do swimming." (He's getting to that eager-to-please stage. It's convenient but a little guilt-ridden all at the same time.)

I looked at the calendar on my phone. I looked into his eyes.

"OK," I said, "How about we do both?"

"Yay!"

It's true. I might totally regret this come summer. Isn't it supposed to be one of the most dreaded jobs of being a mom? A chauffeur? I'm not there yet. And he's my first. And right now he doesn't have any sibling schedules to compete with.

I dream of being up early. The hot breeze sifting in through the window screens. Breakfast is done, beds are made, heads are combed, teeth are brushed and bodies are dressed all by 9:30. It's going to be so hot that only thing we can wear is shorts and a tank top. My hair is pulled back into a ponytail. Outside we are greeted with endless blue skies and not a cloud in sight. I don my oversized sunglasses and so do the kids. We head up to the ballpark or swimming pool. William does his thing and Lucy and I bask. Of course in my dream Lucy isn't at all squirmy. She just sits beside me and contently watches for the entire hour. It's going to be pure bliss, I tell you.

Or so I tell myself. Don't ruin my summer dreams just yet.