It's a New Year

I have made a lot of resolutions over the years. Most of the time they stick. But when I speak to people about their own resolutions the responses are varied but similar in that they expect not to follow them. I always make every effort, and even if I slip up, I keep trying. It seems like the new year is a fresh start, a time to reflect on how we can improve ourselves and set personal goals. Am I in the minority? Because I will choose to work on myself?

This year I am making three.

*Spend time with myself. I will take the time to nurture the things that make me feel good, whole. I will invest in my relationship with myself as I would a relationship with a dear friend. I will take myself out for coffee, and treat myself to a girls day at the spa. I will build in time to exercise because it makes me feel strong. I will spend quiet time with a book because it brings me peace. I will be more sensitive to my needs. I will support my passions as important.

*Eat my fruits, veggies and protein. I love this one. I started this last year, focusing on fruits and veggies, and it changed my view on food as well as the kinds of food that make me energized. I am adding protein to the list this year hoping to work on balanced plates.

*I will define and maintain personal boundaries. We all have people in our lives who don't bring positive energy. And if it's someone you love not providing a supportive space, emotionally separating yourself can be especially difficult. After years of not being fulfilled by someone claiming to be a loving member of my life I will no longer allow my own sadness and fear of loss to dictate the course the relationship takes. And I will be better for it. I feel lighter just saying it!

I guess there is a theme.... taking care of myself. And I deserve to be taken care of. So this is MY year.

Belated Thankful List

***I was going to publish on Thanksgiving, but didn't... obviously I suck***

This year my Thankful list is long. I have three wonderful children who make me laugh, give me the opportunity to exercise patience and strengthen my ability to show devotion and intense love. I have married my best friend, the only person who makes me laugh when I am so angry I could punch someone, the only person who has ever supported me not matter what I say or do. We have a house we have made a home together. I am never alone in this life because I have a few friends I know will be with me until my hair is blue and my teeth are in a jar. And we all have our health. I am living the life I love, and for that I am Thankful.

Update

I have totally sucked at blogging for the last 10 days. First I got sick, which is not allowed in Mommyhood. Then we traveled 2200 miles to see family for the Thanksgiving Holiday. Just in case you are wondering it was 39 1/2 hours in the car round trip, 5 of which Mighty Mouse screamed non stop. Also, I had some minor computer issues which I chose to ignore until we got home. But now we are home! So I DO have some catching up to do, but hopefully I will be able to put up the 3 days of posts I missed and regularly scheduled posts. Bear with me! Also Christmas is in 26 days, 2 hours and 9 minutes. You're welcome.

Road Trip Lessons

There are a few things you need to know before traveling over 400 miles with your kids in the car.

1. They will cry for McDonalds every time they see one. And you will give in at every meal time because they give toys. Which will keep them quiet for 30 minutes.

2. Legos, Play Dough and Puzzels are awesome. But not on a road trip.

3. The only thing more annoying than hearing "Are we there yet?" is "Mom I have to pee." Because you have to stop. And once they know you have to stop... they have to pee every twenty minutes.

4. You will spend half the trip telling them "Ok. I heard you. But there is nothing I can do about it right now!"

5. No matter how organized you are, you will a) not be able to get to what you need or b) you will have forgotten it.

6. You must wear sweatpants (or even better yoga pants) because your ass will grow an entire dress size in one trip. Because you are stopping at McDonalds every 4 hours.

But hugging the people you traveled twenty hours, seventeen happy meals, and countless pee breaks to see? Totally worth it.

Road Trip To Do:

We are going on a road trip for Thanksgiving. The kids, my 24 year old cousin and myself will be driving to Chicago. The drive is almost 17 hours not including breaks for peeing, breastfeeding, eating and playing. I have been planning, sorting, listing and packing for three days. Wanna know what the list looks like? I thought so....

1. Wash winter clothes.
2. Pack Little Britches clothes.
3. Pack Mini Boots clothes.
4. Pack Mighty Mouse clothes... crap. He has no winter clothes.
5. Go Shopping for Mighty Mouse winter clothes.
6. Wash new winter clothes.
7. Pack Mighty Mouse clothes.
8. Repack Little Britches because I can not shop for clothes without buying her something new.
9. Wash my clothes.
10. Start to pack, remember that I have to take the car in before they close.
11. Take car in for oil change and tire rotation. Wish Super Boots was here to deal with car crap.
12. Clean car. Find 22 french fries, 2 half empty juice boxes, 67 cents. Wish even more Super Boots could take over car stuff.
13. Pack toys for kids in the car.
14. End up sorting all of toys they own just to find the Leapster. Realize half their toys are broken, out grown or annoying.
15. Bring sorted toys to Goodwill.
16. End up buying more toys at Goodwill
17. Pack kids toys.
18. Pack for myself. Realize everything I want to bring doesn't fit or is dirty.
19. Wash my clothes again.
20. Pack snacks for the road.
21. Go to the grocery store because we have nothing that qualifies as "road food."
22. Realize I left my laundry in the wash and now it has a slight oder. Re-wash.
22. Pack snacks.
23. Clean house.
24. Find 34 things I need to bring on the trip and repack.
25. Pack my clothes, finally.
26. Load car. Realize I suck at this and kinda hate Super Boots for being gone. (Because he totally would rather be there than going to see family for Thanksgiving with his family).
27. Have a nagging feeling I am forgetting something but know that can not be possible as I have almost the entire contents of my house loaded into the mini van.
28. Get Gas.
29. Remember I did forget something. Shoes.
30. Feel thankful for Walmart, get shoes, more snacks and a Christmas decoration for the car.
31. Put on Christmas music and try to forget that we are going 1100 miles for Thanksgiving with three kids... and no Daddy.

Yeah, I love road trips... once we are on the road that is.

Meltdown City

Today I took a trip to Meltdown city. Population Little Britches and Mini Boots. Oh...and the entire school... plus every child's parents. Yup I was that Mom today. The one whose kids are loosing it in front of everyone. It was horrible. As you know the kids have been a little under the weather. Since they had been home for three days, I made the executive decision to send them to school. After all it was the Thanksgiving program, and I didn't want them to miss it over a cold.

During the program they did really well. Mini Boots got a case of stage fright and refused to sing but did all the hand motions. Little Britches lit up when she saw me and sang louder than any other child. Their costumes we darling and they couldn't have been more adorable. But as soon as I picked them up from their classrooms, the melting began. The worst of it came just as we were in line for the luncheon. Mini Boots was crying for a cookie, and Little Britches began playing following the leader with the naughty kid whose parents don't care. So when I told her to stand still she burst into tears and chimed in on Mini Boot's need for an cookie right now. I'm in line, both are crying, and then the baby starts wailing. Perfect. Of course, I am like we are outta here. No lunch, no cookie, lets just go.

Just as I was scooping them up and running for the door, someone took pity on me and my poor parenting skills. Thank God for compassionate teachers. One came up and offered a helping hand, got the kids cooled down and let me tend to the baby. And Thank God for cousins. Because she got the kids food, drinks and the coveted cookie. Even though it was all a disaster, I am accepting that I need some help, and learning to take it when it's offered. And that's ok. Especially when you live in Meltdown City.

Put Those Cars in Row Again and I Will Panic

Every time anyone puts anything in a row around here I FREAK OUT. Did you know that lining things up is an early sign of Autism? Well it is. And since I have a son with speech and language issues (also an indicator) I have an eagle eye for toys lined up. Do all kids do this? Yes. It's called categorizing and is an important part of development, but the thing about having a kid with any kind of disorder means you are living in fear that they will uncover something else. Or that another one of your children will have it, or something worse.

One of the bigger fears I hold is having a child on "The Spectrum." Autism and Asperger's are scary. They are scary because there are a lot of theories about how you get them, and theories about what to do once you have them, but it's not a direct road. There is no A+B = success, no cure. So the Mom's are left to try on therapies until they find one that fits, and hopefully helps. It's daunting. My heart goes out to the Mom's who support their kids through this maze. They aren't just trying to find help, they are trying to unlock the chains around their own children. On a much smaller scale, I know how hard that can be.

When my kids don't answer me after I call their name, or they are avoiding eye contact, I get a little surge of anxiety. God forbid one of them starts flapping their hands (aka self stimulating). I know that getting the diagnosis is the easy (emotionally debilitating) part, but then you can more on and start fighting for your child (less crying with your family, more crying in Dr's offices). But I am always asking for reassurance Mini Boots is not included in the 1 of every 94 boys diagnosed. That number is even higher for military families. Although most likely it would have presented itself already, and thankfully has not, I have another little boy coming up in the ranks. I feel the need for continued vigilance.

In my life I have had a couple of friends whose children clearly had something going on, but they, the parents, were in denial. They couldn't admit it, thought the child would grow out of it, and made excuses not to address whatever it was. But in that scenario the only one punished is the child. If they are not diagnosed, they can not receive help. And I refuse to be one of those Mom's who lets fear paralyze them. If you think something might be going on, put on your big girl panties and deal, because the only one who will pay for your denial is that sweet helpless child of yours.

Mom Jeans=Bad. Mom Bag=Awesome.

There are some things that Mom's are known for. Some are good, and some are not. Like Mom Jeans. We all have friends who wear them, and they are just bad. I mean the high waist? The tapered leg? There is no getting around it, they are horrible. And they just scream I am Mom, nothing more. There also is the Mom bag and we all need them, however they can be pretty bad too. But if you put a little effort into finding something stylish and functional, your bag will keep the Mommy under wraps and make you feel good about rocking it. I love mine.

I was never a big diaper bag girl. I used one for a few months afer I had Little Britches, but never loved it. Don't get me wrong it was exceptionally functional and my organizational side loved all the pockets, but I resisted using it long term. I needed a bag that looked like me. Sooner than most, I went back to my purse. Before kids I was used to carrying tiny little purses, so for christmas Super Boots got me a big, beautiful Coach bag. It doesn't look like a Mom bag, but it is. I love it and I still use it four years later. I have room for everything I could ever need. Or that you might need. Cause that's the thing about a Mom bag. Even in disguise, they contain all kinds of tricks to get several people through the day.

Sure I have your standard issue diapers, wipes and snacks. But my Mom bag also has Tide-to-Go mini (you all know how I feel about miniature things, in fact, lets just assume almost everything in the bag is miniature... cause it is) just in case you have a coffee dribble or a sweet potato spit up. And it has bandaids, ointment, ibuprofen and spare zip-locks for bloody wipes or poopey diapers. I have bows for Little Britches, and party packs of play dough, crayons and one tiny coloring book for the days we get stuck somewhere. Lolly pops for the rare bribe, not to mention a note pad for bloggy notes, five lip glosses, two lotions, Purell (this might be the only non miniature item, cause we got through that like crazy). I keep a manicure and sewing kit as well as a flashlight. It is all organized into a few cosmetic bags of varying sizes. I am pretty sure any Mommy emergency could be handled as long as I have my Mom bag.

So even if you hate anything that makes you look like a mom (Mini Van) the Mom bag is one I totally recommend embracing. Just find one that suits your non-Mommy inner sense of style. And when someone spills on their new blouse dig into your bag of tricks like the Mom that you are. Cause mom bags are awesome. What do you have in yours?

Sickie Sweet Spot

I hate to admit it but I kinda enjoy it when my kids are under the weather. I feel badly for them, it's no fun to be ill, but it's so quiet. There is no fighting over toys, no running around the house playing tag. I can put on movies with no guilt. They want me to cuddle with them. I get a big pot of homemade soup going and while they are snuggled up in their blankets I read my book. It's such a nice change of pace from the crazy activity that is our usual lifestyle. I call this the sickie sweet spot.

God forbid they get the flu. If the kids have to flu you're lysoling everything, washing a mountain of puked on laundry and worrying about swine flu or whatever the newest strain of freaky flu that kills kids in twenty four hours is. This is the up all night, calling the dr at two am and counting the ounces of fluid they are consuming, not relaxing at all illness.

The cough sickness is also terrible. They usually don't feel too bad, and probably have a cold, but otherwise are basically ok. Except the they keep themselves up all night coughing. And since they are exhausted from being up all night, they are seriously grumpy. And sure they are well enough to play, but sound so horrible you hate to bring them anywhere. Cause you totally get the look from other Mom's. You know the one. The dagger eyes that say "Are you effing kidding me? That kid should not be out in public, what is wrong with you?"

But when they are just a little under the weather, it's kinda great. Nothing to major to worry about. No mountains of laundry. No up all night with worry. The kids only need to chill out and rest up. I try to enjoy it while it lasts, because it never lasts more that thirty six hours and by tomorrow we'll be back to the crazy busy life we lead. But today we're in the sickie sweet spot and it's gonna be quiet and cozy.

That's What I'm Talking About

Little Britches is funny. She has attitude and spunk and says the funniest things, on a regular basis. Her quotes are pretty famous, and I thought today I'd share a few.

Me "Hey Little Britches, do you wanna go outside and ride bikes?"
LB "Uhhh yeah Mom! Thats what I'm talking about!"

Me "So what do you want from Santa this year?"
LB "A telescope"
Me "Where did you ever hear of a telescope?"
LB "One of the boys in my class has one."
Me "Well those are pretty hard to make, I don't know if Santa can make one at his workshop."
LB " *sigh* Mom, Santa can make Aaa-neee-thing. *eye roll* Duh."

Me "Mini Boots, come on, please listen, you need to put your clothes on."
Me under breath "what are we going to do with him?"
LB "Maaaybeee send him to the farm?"

LB "Mom, I am a Drama Queen right? Just like you are a Drama queen too... right?"

I love that girl. She's awesome. And.... that's what I'm talking about.

Veterans Day

Today all I can think about is how much I am missing my Super Boots. He is an amazing father, a wonderful life companion and has a generous, carefree spirit. He sacrifices so much and I am proud to call him my husband. Super Boots is my best friend... and damn he looks good in that fight suit. We can't wait to have him home.




***Please thank a vet today because "freedom don't come free" ***

More Fail

After hearing my daughter shout "I FINALLY GOT MY SEVEN STICKERS FOR TURNING IN MY HOMEWORK! FINALLY!" at the top of her lungs in the pick up line I felt sufficiently embarrassed for one day. I was, again, beet red. But I figured well that's over. Now I can continue to be the awesome Mom I am right?

Wrong. Later that day we had a long overdue play date with one of my Mommy friends. She is super nice, very sweet and her kids are bilingual! I have known her for a very long time, and she has always been a Mom. She had her first right before we met. Now that I am in the Mom's club, its a lot of fun to hang out. So we woke up early from Naps, packed up, went down to her house and hung out. We had cake (from Costa Rica *squee*) and coffee, the kids played well, and I learned a little more spanish. It was a wonderful afternoon and I had almost forgotten that I suck at Mommyhood. When we got home the big kids were starving and Might Mouse was crying but I somehow managed to get them all fed, bathed, pj'd and almost tucked in before it hit me. We left turtle.

Leaving a lovie behind is a ten on the freak out scale for kids and Mom alike. I freak out because I know they won't sleep well with out it, they are giving me dagger eyes because I forgot (uhh, you did too kiddo) and they literally worry what will happen to their precious. Will we ever see Turtle again? Will he be safe? Will I die without him for one whole night? It's only happened to me one other time, we drove back, got lovie and set up a new rule. No lovies in the car. But I broke the rule because Mini Boots got up early and was a crabby pants. Now we were both paying for it. Because it was late, there was nothing to be done for the night, but deal. So we continued to pay for another hour until he eventually crashed.

Right after dropping Little Britches off at school this morning we went to pick up turtle. Mini Boots was reunited with turtle and it was like a slow motion love scene (cue the cheesy music and wind blown hair). The no lovies in the car rule has been reinstated. And I learned the spanish word for turtle, tortuga. So even though this week is like one never ending fail at Mommyhood... there's that.

Epic Fail: Mommyhood

I am seriously failing at this Mommyhood game. Last week I committed to feeding Mighty Mouse breakfast, and didn't actually do it until sunday morning. I forgot to put napkins in the lunch boxes, again. I almost loose my mind at 5:30 pm... every night. (For reals. It's like a set your watch by the near Mommy break down daily activity). And today I found out that Little Britches homework is not an opportunity to practice at home but a graded assignment. Which we have not turned in. All year.

Why it didn't occur to me that homework was to be turned in is beyond me. I am, in fact, familiar with the concept of homework. I did actually go to school and get assigned homework myself. I have actually talked to other Mom's who discuss homework and that it does have due dates. But for some reason when she came home with homework I thought "Ohhh fun! How thoughtful of her teachers to give us extra work to do at home... and never turn in." Today my FIVE year old finally said to me, "Can I bring my work to school today?" And I said "Sure." I put it in her bag and sent her off without a second thought. After school her Teacher came up to me and said "Little Britches was really excited to be able to turn in her work. Thanks for remembering." I am pretty sure I heard "For the first time ever you lazy terrible Mom" under her breath. Beet red I stammered out "Uhhhh, I didn't realize it was graded, I am so sorry. Really sorry. Oh my Lord. But we have all of it, I mean we totally did all of it, and uh, I mean I just didn't realize... I'm really so, so sorry."

Tonight we will be digging out her work, praying I didn't accidentally throw any of it away and sheepishly handing in a huge pile of work tomorrow. My only hope is the teacher takes pity on my poor daughter and backdates some stickers, because she obviously doesn't deserve to be punished for having a rotten (and also dumb) mother. So yeah. I am failing at Mommyhood.

Reasons I Hate Kids Birthday Parties

Little Britches BFF had a party this weekend. It was the first time one of her friends (and not a family friend with kids her age) had a party. She was so excited. We went to the store and she picked out the gift, helped me wrap it and asked every day if the party was Todaaaay Mooom? She she had a blast, but it was rough for me. Since Super Boots is gone I had to keep all three kids happy and on good behavior for three freakin hours. During nap time. And hopped up on sugar. You knew it was coming... reasons why I hate going to kids birthday parties.

1. They are always held during nap time. Am I the only one with kids who go bonkers if they miss their naps? And why does every party have to be at one pm? Could I just get a two pm every once in a while?

2. Sugar overload. You know how much I hate giving my kids sugar. And the last thing everyone does at a party is give them a big hunk of cake with a side of ice cream. And then they send you off with a goody bag filled with more crack...err candy. So you're totally exhausted and the kids are pinging off the walls until it's finally close enough to bed time that you can justify tucking them in.

3. Goody Bags. Not only are they filled with kiddie crack, but they contain at least twelve useless dollar store toys that I will be tripping over for the next two months. They also break easily making me freak out that Mighty Mouse will get his paws on the wheel of a toy truck and if he doesn't choke to death, he will be poisoned from ingesting lead paint.

4. Bouncy House Drama. Every party I have been to this year has had a Bouncy House. Don't get me wrong they are awesome. But the big kids bounce out the little kids, some child gets motion sickness and barfs. Not to mention that they just know you are slightly out of control and if they can bounce away fast enough you might give up and let them misbehave. Which you do. Cause it's super frustrating trying to keep your kids playing nice when all the other kids are NOT.

5. Present time. As the kids get older this is not such a big deal, but for little kids, ugh, they just don't get it. They do not understand why this kid gets a huge mountain of gifts and they don't even get one! (Please Mom, Just a little one?)

I know they love em. So we'll keep going. But I kinda hate kids Birthday parties.

Love Is...

I was closing the window and my Daughter said to me "Wow Mom you're really strong!" She was clearly impressed. It was just an everyday activity but she took that little moment to show me that I was special. It got me thinking about how our kids see us. Through my kids eyes I am strong, beautiful, giving and kind. I may not always see myself like that, but they do. It reminded me that they see themselves by what we mirror back to them. Am I taking the time to show them how smart, sweet, and loving I see them? I have to ask myself, do they see themselves the way I see them?

I am trying to recognize that loving them means showing them how I see them. It's easy to do it when they are behaving well and following the rules, but not as easy when they are melting down. If I can look at what they are doing as an expression of their need to grow it becomes an opportunity to demonstrate my unfailing love. I have to take a moment to remind myself, and them, that I see how amazing they are just by being themselves. When Mini Boots starts literally crying over spilled milk it's because he wants so badly to be a "big" kid with no need for a sipppy cup. When he starts throwing a fit because he doesn't want to hold my hand, its because he is trying to show me he is ready for more independence. And when Little Britches gets frustrated over struggles on her homework, it's because she wants to do a good job and show her teachers how smart she is. It's my job to take her in my arms and tell her she can do it, she is smart and capable. That I can see how strong her work ethic is even at five. Reflecting the good qualities they contain, especially when they are loosing faith in their abilities will build their confidence and sense of self worth.

My children are such an example of unconditional love. I may see my arms as flabby, but to them they are the perfect size for hugs and snuggles. They love me, just the way I am. And I love them, just the way they are. I'm not saying they are going to get away with behaving poorly, but showing them I understand why will help them feel free to grow and develop into the person they are meant to become. Articulating my love for them when they need it most, is the greatest gift I can give them.

Place of Peace?

I'm frazzled. I am always a ball of whats next, how will we accomplish it all, and why is the house such a mess. It's just a part of who I am. I am on the go, looking towards the future. But lately I have been trying to be more peaceful. I read an article that stated if the Mom is in a place of the peace the family, and therefore the kids tend to be more peaceful too. What's that you say? By being peaceful I can elicit peace from my kids? Please. Hell yes.

You know I need some freakin peace in my life. I need it so bad I'll go against my nature to gain it. But it aint easy man. Life with three kids five and under is just not that peaceful. They're fighting, Mini Boots lost his turtle (lovie) and Little Britches needs space to color, and all hell breaks out. Then the baby starts crying because it's such a cluster of ruckus. And I start to get panicky because this is a lot to handle on my own... and it's bath night... and we are out of milk. I don't care how long I come form a place of peace, things are crazy. But is that really such a bad thing?

I think in THIS time of our lives we are better off embracing the chaos than trying to fight it. Because you know what? As soon as I admit this is tough, busy and stressful, it doesn't seem nearly as bad. It's not going to be less crazy anytime soon, but maybe I can set an example of acceptance and reality rather than stress and frustration. (What? I said maybe!) Look, life will always get in the way of living the way I think I should. And this mantra is teaching me to roll with the chaos. It's the difficult times that define me so when I am feeling frazzled the next time, damn it, I'm coming from a place of peace....

Feed Me Semour

Mighty Mouse is hungry. He has been on rice cereal and baby food for almost two months now and he is loving it. He gobbles it up, smiles and says "MMMMM" after every bite. So far, he is only getting dinner but I know he's ready to add another meal to the rotation. But I haven't started feeding him breakfast yet. Because I am too busy and way too tired. How terrible is that?

The kid is starving but I feel like I barley have time to give him the boob while I am getting the other two breakfast, making their lunches, getting them dressed, teeth brushed, shoes on, hair combed and on our way by 8:30. I have eliminated my morning shower, and even though I get up TWO HOURS before we have to leave, I hardly have time to sip my coffee before we are out the door. So I have not introduced the morning meal to my baby...because I am too busy. Talk about Mommy guilt. Whenever my Mom-tourage and I talk about our Mommy guilt, it always boils down to this: "Well, you're feeding them and beyond that all you can do is what you can do." So now I KNOW I am horrible, because I am not even meeting his most basic need! Ack.

I admit it would probably only take about five minutes, but it also means loosing a little more precious sleep. And I am freakin tired people. I am this close to letting the kids run amock and leaving the baby to sit in his own stinkies so I can take a nap. Even considering this (although I wouldn't.. probably never... do this) just adds to my guilt, which leads to more sleepless nights. Since I refuse to become one of those Mom's, I know what I have to do. Tomorrow I will be setting my alarm for 6:15 instead of 6:30 so I can feed Mighty Mouse. If I doze off in the middle of tomorrow's blog.... well you know who to blame.

Why Yes That is a Zit

IEP. Individual Education Plan. If you read this or this, you probably knew it was coming. And I was stressed out. I was so stressed out that in the middle of it I grew a zit. Not even joking, went in with no zit, 90 torturous minutes later? ZIT. And the worst part? We only got through half of the IEP evaluation which means, 15 more restless nights, another torturous 90 minutes and at least 1 more zit.

In some ways the IEP was affirming. Mini Boots is smart. Like really smart. And not developmentally delayed at all. I'm not one of those Mom's who needs a test to show me the results I knew to be true, but in this case it helps. It also affirmed that he is a stinker. He is only going to do what he wants when he wants to do it. We can all agree that his behavior problems might be... probably are... are genetic.

If I am being honest with myself, it's really going to be a lifetime of zits, because language disorders don't just go away. I am going to have to endure this IEP process many, many more times. And the consequences for Mini Boots will get more relevant. Right now it's a little intangible, how a poor outcome can affect his reading in 7th grade, or comprehension on a standardized test could narrow down college choices. However, eventually he won't be our sweet three year old in buzz lightyear underoo's. He will be a big kid with an emotional link to the outcome of these experiences. And that thought just gave me a case of pre teen acne.

Little for a Little Longer

I am a self confessed Gymboree addict. I love their clothes. They last forever, you can wash them all the time and they look brand new. And all the matchey matchey collections, especially for little girls, are so sweet. For years I have been putting Little Britches in Gymboree swing tops with cute leggings, and sweet tee shirts with adorable skorts. But suddenly she is resisting. She wants a more a "big girl" look. And while I knew this day would come, I can't believe it's come so soon.

So I took her shopping, and what I found made me want to throw up. I found belly shirts. Off the shoulder shirts. I saw spaghetti strap tank tops and pleather leggings. Almost every store had some kind of mini skirts and low waist jeans. One store sold thongs... as in thong underwear... for little girls. It was awful. Most of the stuff I found I wouldn't have let a teenage daughter wear much less my five year old. When did it become acceptable for little girls to dress like teenage sluts? Don't we want to keep our little girls sweet an innocent as long as we can? And who is buying this stuff for their five year olds? I can't be the only Mom who doesn't agree with the style, but apparently I am one of the only Mom's who says "No freakin way" and leaves the stores, because it's SO MUCH harder to find appropriate styles.

Some where along the way our society has deemed it appropriate to over-sexualize children, especially our girls. Her clothing options clearly reflect that. It was especially noticeable on Halloween, I saw a couple of tween slutty nurses but not one young woman dressed in scrubs as a doctor. Our celebrity obsessed culture has tabloids with teenage girls going clubbing in booty shorts ( I'm looking at you slutty Cyrus, I mean Miley) on the cover. It's kind of unavoidable that they will be exposed to this. But if I want Little Britches to value her body for more than her sexuality, I have to show her there is more to dressing for school than looking cute (and older than she is). So I asked her questions while we shopped, like can you run in it? Will you be able to paint? Can you swing? Because she needs to feel good about what her body can DO, not just how it will look to others.

So you know where we ended up? Yup. Gymboree. I told her to pick out whatever she wanted, and thankfully she found a few shirts she liked, a dress and a pair of pants. Then I took her down the way to Gap Kids to complete her outfits where we found some plain tee's, leggings, jeans (with a normal waist thank God) and a hoodie. She can make her own outfits out of the clothes we picked and she can PLAY in everything we bought. And she will look like a little girl for a little longer. I can only hope she continues to feel like one too.

Things That Make You Go Hmmmm

Halloween was awesome. I couldn't have asked for it to go much better. The weather? A wonderful Florida 70 . The candy? Plentiful and already raided. The kids? Cute as can be, super excited and surprisingly well behaved. But there were three things I saw that made me get all spazzy and annoyed.

1. To the mini adults Trick-Or-Treating, if you are old enough to have a Monroe Piercing, you are too old to be Trick-Or-Treating. Also if you boobs are shoved into a corset. You. Are. Too. Old.

2. To the guy driving his kids from house to house, really? Despite the fact that you come off as incredibly lazy, it's creepy. I mean, are you planning on snatching one of the innocent Trick-Or-Treaters? Because I see a car slowly following children in my neighborhood I am pretty sure you have an underground lair filled with kids chained up. So yeah, I'm watching you potential pedophile. And taking down your license plate.

3. To the Mom Trick-Or-Treating for the two month old baby, I know that candy is for you. That baby isn't old enough to be getting anything other than boob or bottle so just tell me you have a major case of PMS and I'll gladly fill your bag with miniature snickers, because I get that. But don't insult my intelligence and stop pretending we don't know what you're up to.

You know there are always gonna be a few who make you go hmmm. But in spite of the weirdo's it was amazing. We are all in candy comas.... and I can't wait til next year.

Crack is Whack

I love Halloween. It's such a fun holiday. The dressing up, the candy, the decorating, I mean what's not to love about this day? Well... there is one thing I am not impressed with this year. This year Halloween falls on a Sunday. Which means my kids are going to have a sugar hangover on Monday. They will be crabby and cantankerous. My Monday's are hard enough without adding this struggle to my list.

Little Britches and Mini Boots especially love Halloween because its the one day when they can eat whatever kind of candy the choose, until they don't want anymore. One day out of the year they get to experience a candy free for all. They eat healthy food 364 days a year and I cautiously limit their sugar intake. This is not to say they never get treats, but I am definitely not a Mom who serves cookies for snacks or offers dessert every night. Before you feel like I am judging Mom's who dole out treats whenever the mood suits them, you should know that is not the case. It's just that MY kids turn into cracked out hyperactive trolls when sugar, even in small quantities, is ingested. And have you ever had to live with a crack head? All they can think about is their next fix, they start shaking and get straight up rude if they don't get it. And I can't deal. So Halloween is the one day I loosen the reigns.

But his year it's on a Sunday. Mini Boots and Little Britches will be bouncing off the walls for hours after we get home from trick-or-treating, and I will be worried about them not getting enough sleep. They will dump out their treats onto the living room floor, tearing into fun size candy bars like they are starving kids from Africa, and I will have to deal with trying to get them changed and bathed while they are strung out. And the next day when they are exhausted from not enough sleep, and crashing from the high of unlimited candy bliss, I have to get up and drag their butts to school and speech. Ugh. So I am starting a petition to change Halloween from October 31st to the last Saturday of the month. Wouldn't that make our lives so much easier? Knowing we had a full day of recovery and not having to explain their whacked out behavior and cracked out attitudes? I am pretty sure Mom's everywhere can agree, dealing with the Halloween fall out in our own homes, with Daddy help, would be awesome! So who's with me?

Are You Up For It?

So I've been thinking. I need a new challenge in my life. My kids are awesome but I, the Mommy and ruler of all, am needing a bit more right now. Something for me to hang my hat on. Something thats stands alone. Super Boots is gone and the whole only talking to kids thing is making me a little bit crazy. Since I am this close to turning into that Mom who chats up the grocery store cashier I need an outlet. And in case you haven't noticed writing is like the BEST outlet for me. So I am making a deal with myself. The month of November will be my first full month of blogging. As in I'm gonna do it every day... excluding weekends and holidays. Now I'm not saying my posts are gonna be super awesome, but I'm gonna put something out there every day. Because I have more time while he's gone. And by more time I mean no one to talk to while I sip a glass of wine, completely exhausted after bedtime. It's gonna be a month full of adventures in cracked out holiday madness, IEP's, one insane thanksgiving road trip, and I want to share it with you. Wish me luck, and check back often.

Deployment-Itis

Here's the deal. My husband and I almost never fight. I mean, it's pretty rare for us to get fuming mad at each other (excluding pregnancy induced hormonal moments of nuttiness). Super Boots is the most laid back guy you could meet and while I am definitely more high strung, he has a way of talking me off the ledge. He is my balance, my own personal zen. But right before a deployment, well... things get tense. When things get tense we bicker. And inevitably there is one big blow up before he leaves.

We kind of have a system, a pre-deployment check list that involves preparing the house for no man help and squeezing in fun filled seasonal activities. There are things I need him to do before he leaves like mow the lawn one last time, touch up the paint on the swing set, clean the carpets and get down Halloween decorations from the attic. Because I KNOW I won't have time and will be too busy keeping three children, two dogs and a few fish ALIVE. So I write it down and give him the "List" .... but all he wants to do is play with the kids, and snuggle the baby, take long hot showers and cook elaborate meals. Because he will MISS all of those things. And it makes me totally insane that he can't just help me out. So I get pissed. And then he gets pissed because I am not UNDERSTANDING that all of those things are more important than clean carpets. Even though I know this (Duh!), all I can think about is how the hell am I going to find time to clean the carpets? Those moments of irrational frustrations, usually based on the fear I won't be able to accomplish all that is asked of a single Mom, creates a big case of Deployment-Itis.

You can diagnose your own case of Deployment-Itis, here are a few signs to look for:

*You loose sleep over the unfinished chair rail you had hoped to install.
*The thought of attending parties alone, or worse with you and the kids, makes your eye all twitchy.
*You know finding time to pluck your eyebrows will feel like an overwhelming task, and decide to bring back the Brook Sheilds caterpillar look.
*You have nightmares about the kids asking for sleepovers.
*It's 2am, your husband is sleeping... and you are watching him... wishing he would wake up... to clean the carpets.
*You begin over-scheduling the weeks after he leaves. Because busy is way better than bored when you're missing him.
*You buy a six-pack. Of vodka.
*You're pissed. Because this sucks.

Sometimes I cry before he leaves, but usually I don't. I pour my energy into getting ready for him to be gone. I know I would feel better if I cried and let it out, but it's just not real until I drop him off. So we plan for all the things that will happen when he is gone and get into a fight about finishing the "list." Because the reality is just too much to bear sometimes. And after a couple of days of deep Deployment-Itis it hits me how much I am going to miss him. And I can back off a bit, letting him snuggle and shower without resentment, all the while taking mental snapshots of these everyday moments that define our life together. No matter how much we prepare, things will go wrong, I will feel overwhelmed and we will all miss him like crazy. So when it's time, we pack him up, drop him off and I finally surrender to the grief and cry on the way home.

Mom-Tuition

Sometimes you just KNOW. Like deep down, in your gut, know that something is not right. Maybe your kid is being "too" quiet. Maybe your child is telling you why they didn't get a sticker at school, and it's just not adding up. Maybe the Dr. says it's a cold but you just know its not and after demanding more tests bronchitis is discovered. Some people call this intuition. I call it Mom-Tuition. And I totally believe it saves lives.

I have had my own fair share of Mom-Tuition moments. Quite a few actually, but the one that always comes to mind when discussing this is the "Third Floor Incident." When Little Britches was 16 months I decided to check on her. She was napping and I knew if I woke her up the rest of the day would be horrible. She was quiet and there were no indications anything was wrong. But I felt compelled to peek in on her. To my horror I found her standing on a desk with her face smashed up against the window. Her bedroom was on the THIRD floor. Yup. Talk about a freak out moment. (I pretty much turned my living room into her bedroom after that one). But the point is, I trusted my instincts. And if I hadn't *shudder* who knows what could have happened!

It must be biological because every mother I know has at least a dash of it. Some have more than others but everyone has a story. And it never seems to go away. I have even heard stories of Mom's getting a feeling that something is not right with their kids who are at college 1500 miles away. It's part of the connection to your child you can't describe, and only entirely understood once you're in the Mom's club. So when you feel like something is off, trust your instincts and embrace your own Mom-Tuition.

How About a Nice Stiletto to the Eye?

As many of you know Mini Boots has a language disorder. And if you read this, you know how proud of his progress I am. You may also remember that he started preschool. And the transition has been tough. Kids with languade disorders have to work so much harder every day. The have to process all the information coming at them, and the effort is exhausting. I know how hard he is working, not just because I see it happen at home, but also because he is taking loooonnnnggg naps at the end of every school day.

We have been dealing with some inclusion issues at school. And by inclusion what I really mean is EXclusion. Since language issues in kids often manifest themselves as behavior problems in the classroom, Mini Boots has been acting out. I have been told he is very "disobedient" because he "refuses" to stay still at circle time, and shovels too much food into his mouth at lunch, and touches other kids in line up. I know he's going to struggle to follow the rules, but sitting still, keeping hands to ourselves... well... these are problems all three year olds (and some adults I know) have trouble with. So when she tells me that because he has been not sitting still during circle time he is preemptively being placed in the back of the room I want to dig out my one (and only) pair of stilletos and stab her in the eye.... maybe then she would understand how hard it is to live with a disability.

My heat aches thinking about him sitting him in the back of the room, by himself, not knowing what he did wrong but understanding he must have done something because he is not allowed to sit with the rest of the group. And if he is not given the chance to succeed I fear he will dislike school and not learn to engage in the expected behavior. And guess what? His behavior problems will only increase. Because he doesn't understand why he is being singled out. Isolation is NOT acceptable in classrooms. And my sweet son deserves to be there getting the opportunity to learn as much as any other child.

I am reminded yet again how important it is for parents to advocate for their children, and to be involved in their education. Even at the preschool level. Even if your child doesn't have a disability. Because if we don't fight for them who will? So bring it on lady. I have my boxing gloves on... and a lovely pair of stilettos with your name on em!

Bug Bites and Back Sweat

School is back in session. There are a number of reasons why I love this. Number one, kids are busy doing educational activities that require no effort from me. Number two, I have a three hours, twice a week with just one child to clean, exercise and grocery shop.... none of which actually happens (put down the remote and step away from the DVR) ... but it could! And the third reason why I love school is that I don't have to take my kids to the park 3-4 times a week. What? I don't LOVE the park? No I don't. In fact I kinda hate it. It's free fun, so why do I hate it so much? Well I'll tell you....

For one thing because it's free fun, everyone goes. And it's always busy. And there is always one Mom who doesn't believe this type of activity should be supervised. So their kid is throwing mulch (which is exactly the type of behavior I want my impressionable munchkins to learn). Or the kid is sword fighting with sticks while Mom is cracking out on her crack-berry. I TRY to wait for the other Mom to intervene but that just makes my retina's burn thinking about the permanent damage possible. So I have to step in... and then get dirty looks while she furiously texts away.

Another reason I hate it is because it's a death trap. I mean monkey bars 6 feet up? And a spiral slide two stories high? Who designed this place? Ok, so I may be slightly over protective, but I also have one child (Mini Boots) who believes deep in his soul that he is a trapeze artist. And can totally do a triple axel off the monkey bars. So while he is attempting the worlds first double salchow swing dismount, I am having a heart attack. It takes at least three years off my life every time we go.

And the final reason why I kinda hate the park is that it's so close. What's that you say? TOO close? Yes, I said too close. You see, I can't justify driving to it. When we bought this house I was so excited to be 4 blocks from the neighborhood play ground. But when you are making kids walk/bike/scooter over there it might as well be a trip to China. It takes us twenty minutes to get there and at least 45 to get home. Because they have to stop every three steps to tell me how tired they are. And they just can't dooooo it.

I know they love going, and over the summer I take them all the time. Despite the bug bites and back sweat, I go. I let them play and just be kids. But now that school is back in session I don't have to endure that particular brand of torture more than once a week! Until next year anyway.

Sleep Boot Camp

It's finally happened. And I am so relieved. I am happier, have enough energy to get throug the day, and have a small reserve of patience again. That's righ folks, Mighty Mouse is finally sleeping through the night. But it wasn't an easy road and we worked HARD to train his sleeping patterns. There are some people who assume babies one night just decide to sleep all night long. But none of mine have ever done that without major effort from me. You have to teach them. Your baby will get the sleep they need no matter what. The goal is to give them that sleep when YOU are sleeping. And the key is baby steps. After six months kids totally GET the night time routine, so if you can work steadily to get it done before six months you'll have a great sleeper on your hands. I have three. So here's how I did it....

Even as a newborn, when it's night time, the baby is in his cradle. If he woke up, we fed him and put him right back to bed. No talking, or playing. Cold hearted? Maybe. But this is boot camp people! Of course there were nights where he fought sleep and eventually we gave in and let him slept in the swing, but we did not wake up just because he decided to wake up. Even if we had to put the damn nuk in tweleve times. Which totally happened... every night.

Once he realized night time is for sleeping, we let him fuss for a few minutes beofore giving him the nuk. While hard on us, it gave Mighty Mouse a chance to self sooth. If you do not offer this opportunity, your baby will ALWAYS need help falling asleep. That's cool for some Mom's but not for me. Because I have three kids and need a friggen break. And wine.

We moved him out of our room. Obvious? Not for everyone. And yes he does sleep better when he isn't woken up by my pea sized bladder, snoring, our other kids stealthily army crawling into our bed, and early alarm clocks. Weird huh?

Finally we decided it was time to give up the nuk at sleepy time. We did this when we knew he could fall asleep without it, and wouldn't you know it, he did. And now when it's time for bed, we feed him, change him, kiss him, zip up the sleep sack and if he cries he cries... but he falls asleep in under ten minutes. And I don't have to rock him for an hour, nurse him to sleep or walk in twelve times to replace the nuk. So if your goal is to have a good sleeper, take a tip from me and work on it every night. Because in a few months you will have a well trained sleeper and some time to relax. Now where is my wine?

Regularly Scheduled Programing.... coming soon.

I know. It's been a while. Between all the guests, a soggy macbook, and some minor home renovations I have been overwhelmed and blogging has been a little lower on the priority list. And that doesn't include all the big changes that have happened in my children's lives. Little britches started pre-kindergarden. Mini boots is now officially a preschooler. Mighty mouse is sleeping in his own room. I would not say it's been seamless, but it has been easier for them than me. And I have been doing my best to hold it together while realizing they are only mine for such a short time. I have lots of material and am getting back to regular posts soon.

Any Given Day

Last night I watched Date night, have you seen it? It's pretty funny and since I adore both Steve and Tina (yeah we're on a first name basis), it was a well spent couple of hours. It was obviously far fetched, but there was one part that I could totally relate to. Steve's character continually leaves drawers open and Tina's character inevitably bumps into them. You can just see her seethe each time, and I realized it's just like my house. The kids are doing irritating things, and just because it's not done purposely doesn't mean it still won't drive me batty. If you came to my house, on any given day, you will probably hear the following....

*"Who ate all the banana's?" (You would think they were dipped in chocolate and makes them poop Polly Pockets the way my kids eat them.)

*"Why are there underpants in the living room?" (If you can't bring them to the laundry room, why is it so hard to Keep. Them. ON?)

*"Super Boots, If you don't get home quick I can not guarantee that we'll all be alive." (Often followed by "And please bring wine and straight jackets." They sell those at liquor stores right?)

*"I just mopped those floors!" (I swear as soon as I mop, something is spilled, tracked in or colored on. I just want ONE hour where my house is clean, just ONE!)

*"The toilet is bunged up again? OK, lets go over this one more time, you do not need to use the whole roll when you poo. FOR REAL." (I don't like to see a skid mark but why is the entire roll necessary when wiping? WHY GOD? WHY?)

*"Why is the baby crying? He can't be hungry, I just fed him!" (I spend half my life feeding that kid. Not even kidding.)

*"Seriously, stop poking the dogs in the eyes. They don't like it." (Really? You do know they WILL bite you if you hurt them and I will NOT feel bad right?)

It's the little things that kill, and you just KNOW Tina gets it. Because she's awesome like that. And a Mom. So my life is nothing like Date Night, but THAT part was so much like my house. Annoying. But funny... after a while.

Don't Negotiate with Terrorists

In my house, I am in charge. Now, I may be holding court by a very slim margin... after all I am outnumbered three to one, but each day I continue to maintain my authority. However, the nature of kids is that they are almost ALWAYS attempting a coup. They think they are going to take over but I have several strategies to defend my territory. In fact it's quite similar to how our government deals with terrorists..... below are some effective tactics to use.


Stress positions- Our government makes terrorists sit on their knees with their arms stretched behind them, and while this seems a bit harsh for a two year old, I do employ the age old punishment of sending my kids to Time Out. And as they get older Time Out turns into Nose and Toes facing a corner. It may be the perfect interrogation tactic. For example "Tell me who painted with toothpaste or I will put you both in Time Out (aka a stress position)". It does work quite effectively and comes highly recommended from CIA and parents alike.

Sensory derivation- Now at GITMO (a terrorist prison), the terrorists are sent into prison cells, with no sunlight and limited contact with others. And as much as I may wish I could pop my kids into a locked cell while I enjoy a long phone call, CPS may frown on that behavior. But never fear Mommy's! You too can utilize sensory deprivation tactics by sending naughty children to their rooms. They miss out on all the "fun" and once released, tend to conform to the warden's (ie my) rules.

Zero Tolerance- Airports have taken a strict position on potential threats, they call it a zero tolerance stance. For example, once someone threatens a bomb in their shoe, every single person must take off their shoes for inspection any time they enter the "secure area". I follow the same rule with my kids. Once one child colors on the walls of their bedrooms with maker, each child must be patted down before every nap. There is no room for exception... if I don't want my house to resemble a graffiti plastered skate park.

Don't Negotiate With Terrorists- Seemingly easy to follow, I find myself struggling with this one most frequently. You see they ALWAYS have a reason why they needed to do what they did, and if you let them explain they expect negotiations to follow. There is no room for discussion, you break the rules you suffer the consequences. It's about the only thing me and old G.W. saw eye to eye on.

Our government describes a terrorist as "a radical who employs terror as a weapon; usually organizes with other terrorists." Hmmm..... sounds like kids to me! So when you are at home, and dealing with your little ones remember that your position of power must be constantly defended. Children, like terrorists, seek out your weaknesses and target them repeatedly. The trick is to keep security on full alert and stay one step ahed at all times. Do not underestimate the children, no matter how small and adorable they seem... they are a threat.

Shut Up, It's the Law

I recently read an article where Gisele (a famous model for those of you who don't know who she is) said she would like to see a breast-feeding law. As in, you have to breast feed your baby for at least six months because IT'S THE LAW. I wanted to smack her. There is no disputing it's the best food for your baby, but this is an extremely personal decision. What about babies who are in the NICU or have to be fed through a tube? What about the Mommy's who have jobs that do not allow much time or space for pumping? (Ever tried pumping in a bathroom on a 15 minute break? Not fun). What about babies who just don't want to do it? I was shocked by her ignorance.

I am breastfeeding. As I have said before, I am totally obsessed with the new little man.... and he is obsessed with my boobs. He smiles when he see's them, and his favorite spot to sleep is nuzzled in between the cleavage. But I struggled to breast feed my first, it took her almost two weeks to latch on properly, and I pumped, and taped tubes to my boobs, and didn't sleep AT ALL. Eventually we got it down, but she decided she was not into the boobs and rejected me way before I was ready to give it up. So with my second, and now again I cherish every feeding. I can feel my body relax when he starts gulping and I love that he is a noisy eater. However breastfeeding brings several challenges, and even though I know I won't stop anytime soon, it's just not that easy.

For one thing, if you're going to do it, you have to be comfortable doing it out in the open. Now, I am not exactly shy, but there is something about whipping it out at the mall that makes me uncomfortable. And if I am not relaxed it's not a great time for him either. There is also the issue of sleep. As in there's not a lot of it. Breast milk is digested so easily that is often won't keep them full in the same way a bottle of formula will. Also all of the resposibility falls on your shoulders, you cant take you boobs off to hand off a feeding. And since you have to be cautious about what you eat, and drink, it limits your lifestyle. Let's face it, breastfeeding is hard work and takes commitment.

Here's the deal, if you are feeding your baby you are a good Mom. If you try to breastfeed and it doesn't work for you, you are still doing the best thing for your child by FEEDING THEM. Babies have been fed formula for years, and they all have turned out just fine. So don't feel guilty if breast feeding doesn't work for you or your lifestyle. And you have my vote to make it a law that dumb models should shut up and look pretty. Because no one should feel bad about taking care of their baby in whatever way they see fit.

Why I Don't Go In

Super Boots is home! I can't believe I survived.... and more importantly that my kids did as well. Usually he comes home at ungodly hours so we wait in the car, and he comes to us. But THIS time, he came home during the day! And I had a friend who was also going to be there, she is nice and funny, seems like a good Mom and so far she seems to like me too. (Eventually she'll figure out I'm all jaded and sarcastic). So I decided to go in. My kids made signs, I dressed them in their cutest red, white and blue and hoped for the best.

But instead I got this....

*We walk in holding signs and excited*

Me- "Ok guys you know the rules... best behavior"
Mini Boots- "Yeah Daddy Home! " and he begins jumping like a pogo stick... boing boing boing....
Little Britches- "Ohh look Mom Helicopters! I wanna be a helicopter. Vrrrrrrrrr" Starts running in a circle, 'wings' out.
Mini Boots- "Me too. Vrrrrrrrr"
Me- "You guys can only be helicopters in the kiddie area. Go. Over. There."
Mini Boots- boing boing boing... vrrrrrrr..... boing boing boing

*I beging to regret coming inside*

Me- "Alright guys, lets line up and hold our signs out so Super Boots sees us!"
Mini Boots- boing boing boing
Little Britches- Vrrrrrrrrrr

*And then Mini Boots proceeds to hang on the doors that say emergency exit, and I see the Super Boots Boss giving me the evil eye. I wanted to crawl into a hole. And my friend is all awesome and "They're just excited, everyone gets it." Which makes me more embarrassed because my kids are the ONLY ones acting out aviation fantasies*

Me- "Oh god. Alright, you have to stay still. Be a tree."
Mini boots- Boing boing boing... "No Mommy, don't pick up. Mommy NO. BWAHHHHH!"
Little Britches- "I don't want to be a tree. I want to be a HELICOPTER."
Me- teeth clenched "Be a TREE. Or I will...." sigh...
Mini Boots- Boing boing boing

And then Daddy walks in, and they are QUIET. Eyes on the floor, they barley say Hi. But by now I am stress sweating and the first thing out of my mouth is... "Hi! So can we get out of here NOW?"

And that is why we will no longer go in for pick ups. Because my kids are not trees. They are helicopters and pogo sticks and I want my husband to come home to a Mommy who doesn't need a valium and margarita cocktail.

Mini Boots, One Year Later

My son, Mini Boots, was diagnosed eleven months ago. Expressive Language Disorder. Receptive Language Disorder. Speech Articulation Disorder. Each diagnosis felt like a bomb exploding in my heart. My vision of his easy, carefree childhood was gone. I was overwhelmed with grief. So I cried, hard. I called my family, hugged my husband, kissed my kids and ate about a pound of chocolate. In one weekend. And then I moved forward. I could continue to cry, but that was not going to help him. He was only two so he sure couldn't help himself! It was my job as his Mom to generate a change in focus.

I realize there is no easy fix for language development, and each child's journey will be different. So I came up with a plan, I got him into a Speech and Language Pathologist twice a week. I asked her a million questions every chance I got, and diligently reported his developments at home. I watched her work with him, and started mimicking what she did as well as teaching my husband to do the same. I integrated "table time" where we sit and drill, or play a speech focused game into our daily routine. We do vowel sounds when we brush our teeth. We practice hard consonant sounds in the car. It's become a lifestyle.

Now here we are, almost a year later and I am amazed how well early intervention has worked for him. When we started this journey he had ten words. He said Hi and Bye, Mom and Dad, Milk and Juice, Car and Go, Yes and No. But now? He talks, like ALL the time. You can have conversations with him. For example we were at the grocery store:

Mini Boots: I don wan da cookie wit da color. I wan da cookie wit da chocolate!
Me: You get what you get now say thank you.
Mini Boots: NO! I don wan dis cookie.
Me: Ok, I'll give it back.
Mini Boots: No Mommy, is my cookie. No Mommy.

AND

Mini Boots: I wanna pull up wit a Buzzzzz. Not a train.
Me : Well, the trains are on sale sweetie, so we get what we get.
Mini Boots: NOOOOO! I wanna BUZZZ. A boo Buzzz.
Me: No.
Mini Boots: Mayyyybeee a train pull up and da Buzzz toy.
Me: Still No.
Mini Boots: WHAAAAAA!

His voice is clear and understandable. He is confident in his ability to express his needs, and wants. Listening to him communicate all the thoughts in his little head was something I hoped for. It was something for which I worked hard. And I cant help but ask myself.... why did we want him to talk again?

Out Pops Lefty

Ever have one of those friends who dresses ummm, shall we say inappropriately for her situation? Well I do. And even though I love her to bits, I just wish she'd be a bit more practical about how she dresses. Because she has kids. And if you have kids you know that even when your skirt is considered to be a conservative length, all it take is one climbing through your legs (because the cashier said Hi and they're SHY) and the whole grocery store sees your panties. We already tempt fate just by leaving the house! So take my word for it, there are at least three items of clothing a Mom should not wear with her kids around.

1. Tube Top- Because those boobies are sagging lady and all it takes is one little tug by toddler who needs to get your attention and OOPS! Out pops lefty. Please, no one wants to see that.

2. Low Cut jeans- Ever tried to "Mother" without bending down? At all? Nope you can't do it. And when you're in those hip hugging, low cut jeans and you bend over, well... I see a lot of crack... and Crack is Whack! So I know you think you're avoiding the Mom Jeans by squeezing yourself into a pair of trendy skinnie's but please, for the sake of burning retinas all over. Find a happy medium.

3. Mini Skirts- Again with the bending over! Except this time, I'm looking at your vag. That you popped at least one child out of. Do yourself a favor and if you need to show off your thighs, wear shorts.

So even though the weather is getting hotter and I KNOW you think you can rock it, please don't. At least until date night.

Oh Sister

Actual conversation between my sister and I:

*Sister- By the way, I am totally in the Mom's club. I'v been peed on, pooped on, spit up on, and she screamed for two hours on the drive to the cabin. Such joy!
*Me- LOL. Welcome to the Mafia.
*Me- Mighty Mouse only wants to breastfeed when I am standing up (so relaxing) or laying down (which I totally have time for every two hours).
*Sister- Seriously. Can they make it any harder on us?
*Me- I don't want to know. Because I am pretty sure the answer is yes.

And then Little Britches decided to paint her toe nails (my bathroom floor is now a lovely shade of red).... and Mini Boots pooed in his pants on the way to the toilet... while I was laying down breastfeeding.

Loosing Your Mommy Mind

My kids are creatures of habit. They like their routine. (Gee I wonder where they get that?) And so when one of my BFF's from our life in Hawaii came for a visit with her three kids, well, you might say it was a little overwhelming for them. I couldn't have been happier! She cooked, cleaned, did my laundry, helped with the baby.... have I mentioned I totally need a wife? But my kids turned into naughty little munchkins. So even though I knew WHY they were misbehaving, and I TRIED to keep it as normal as possible, it was still tough on them. And there were a few moments when I knew I was going to loose my mommy mind! Thank goodness the HIBFF gets it, but as the week drew to a close, I had uncovered a few warning signs. And since kids SMELL your annoyances like dogs smell fear, watch out. Once they know you're struggling... they really go in for the kill!

How to Recognize When You are Going to Loose Your Mommy Mind-

*Feelings of ineffectiveness and aggravation.
*Sudden urge to down a bottle of wine.
*Dreams of running screaming down your street naked in the hopes of being committed to a mental hospital. No phones? Peaceful padded room? Meds? Sounds like a plan to me!
*Rapid heart rate, shallow breath and tummy troubles... followed by chugging of pepto.
*Futile attempts to solve the problems with disney channel and juice boxes only lead to more frustrations.
*Saying "If I have to tell you one more time..." 18 times in a row.

Unfortunately there is really only one cure. Night out with booze and buddies. That's right. Only Jose and his posse can save you now! If any of these signs persist for longer than one hour, call a sitter and head out. Because no one likes it when Mommy looses her Mommy Mind.

Nice to Meet You

So here's the deal guys, I have been pouring over blogs and I have totally found some new ones I love! But they all have one thing in common. Names have been changes to protect the innocent. Or in my case, the guilty. I love a good nick name, so I couldn't resist. But of course you have to know who it is I am talking about.... which brings us to this blog. Now you already know I am Liz, but you might not know my kids names... and if you know my hubby's name, well it's changing.....

Super Boots AKA Daddy- I think the boots portion is obvious, (if you read this) and 'super' just fit. Because in my little corner of the world he is a super hero. An amazingly brave, self sacrificing, kiddie corralling, dinner making, grocery getting, hilarious Super Man... err Boots.

Little Britches AKA Daughter and Oldest Child- Because she is too big for her britches most days, and I thought calling her sassy pants was mean. She is the total boss lady and runs the boys in our house like only an (admittedly cute) evil genius can.

Mini Boots AKA Son #1 and Middle Child- He looks like and exact copy of Super Boots... but miniature. And don't we all love things that are miniature?

Mighty Mouse AKA Son #2 and Baby- Because for the longest time he barley peeped, and when he did, he squeaked. Until he was screaming for boob.... hence Mighty Mouse.

So there you have it. My family. I love them all... until about 8:15 am when I dream of childless tropical vacations.

Guest Blogger - New Mom Must Haves

****I know you have all been on the edge of your seat waiting for my super stylish (and new Mom) sister to send us her Guest Blog on how to be a Stylish Mommy... and the wait is finally over! She is amazing, I know you think I'm biased, but seriously... she IS. Check out her blog HERE. One read and you'll agree!****

Stylist, fashion writer and new mom Meredith Mortensen shares a few of her secrets on how to be a stylish mom.

I knew I'd be busy when I became a mom. But I could never anticipate just how busy I would be. With little time for myself, its easy to become frumptastic. You know what I'm talking about. Living in sweatpants and showering only once in a while. (Editors Note: I tried to warn her, I swear!)

Luckily for me, and all the other new moms out there, I've discovered a few things that make me feel like, well, like a hip mom. So if you've vowed to never own a mini-van or wear mom jeans - read on! (Editors Note: Hey! Are you saying I cashed in my cool card when I got my mini-van? I don't think so.... I am totally the coolest Mom at Karate! Ummm.... yeah.....)

Breastfeeding Tank Tops
Okay, I'll admit it. It seems like anything that has the words breastfeeding and tank top in the same line would be completely uncute. Turns out, that's so false. There are some adorable breastfeeding tank tops out there. And since I wear one every day, I was happy to discover these stylish options. My favorites are in cute patterns and bright colors.

Cute Cardigans
It's my go-to mom outfit: A breastfeeding tank top and a cute cardigan. It's so functional and user-friendly yet still cute. And wearing a cardigan always makes me feel more put together.

The New "It" Bag
No, I'm not talking about Chanel or Balenciaga. The new "it" bag for moms is a diaper bag. There are some fabulous diaper bags that really make a statement. You can leave your handbag at home and just toss your wallet in these tastefully designed bags. In bold colors and unique prints, these diaper bags will quickly become your new favorite accessory.

So there you have it. A few things I can't live without as a new mom. (Editors Note: See? Told ya. No pajama jean).

****Thanks So Much Meredith! Be sure you take a few minutes to read Styled Northwest!****

Mom-versation

Ever tried to have a conversation with a Mom while her kids are up? Yeah. It's a little ADD. And it usually goes something like this...

*Friend "Hi! How are you?"
*Mom "Oh HI! I have been meaning to call... (Sweetie, Mommy is on the phone, wait just a minute.)"
*Friend "So how are you doing?"
*Mom "Pretty well, I mean things are nuts as usual but... hang on.. (Oh you want milk, ok just give me a sec.)"
*Mom "So are you guys still doing that ... (Well I am sorry it's not in the Valentines cup, just drink it. I'm on the phone.)"
*Friend "Are you guys busy? I can call you back."
*Mom "No no, just the usual. So what was I asking you? Oh yeah are you guys going to the preschool carnival?"
*Friend "Ummm, I think so. But you know little man has had an ear infect..."
*Mom "(I am ON THE PHONE. No you can not have lunch it's only 10am... and don't hit your brother) Sorry. So if he's feeling up to it you'll be there?"
*Friend "Yeah. Lets just hope he's feeling better by then."
*Mom "(I SAID don't hit your brother!) Ok... Hang on (Who wants to watch a Movie?) Ok I'm back. Sorry what were you saying?
*Friend "Dora to the rescue?"
*Mom "Yup, lets see how long this lasts. Anyway I really hope you guys can make... (What? Well I'm sorry its the wrong Dora, but I. AM. ON. THE. PHONE.)"
*Mom "Yeah I'm gonna have to let you go."
*Friend "No problem I get it, but hey call me later."
*Mom "Sure, will do, gotta go! (Alright who got out the markers?)" click....

You may think we don't want to talk, but that is not true at all. We LOVE to have adult conversations but for some reason we get on the phone and our kids decide to turn into naughty little munchkins that have a black hole of needs! They know we're distracted and if we're not careful the markers end up coloring our couches and we will loose our Mommy minds. So do me a favor, let me call you during nap time, or better yet after they're in bed. Because I really do care, I just... (Seriously, put away the MARKERS. NOW.)... ok. Where was I? Oh yes. I guess the same goes for blogging...

Bringing the Crazy

I have been trying to make some Mommy friends and I can accept that we all bring a little bit of crazy with us into the Mommyhood (hello cleaning schedule). But is it just me or does being a Mom bring all the weirdness usually contained by social norms to the surface? I'm not talking about the bat-shit crazy hovercraft Moms (ummm she's 8, let her climb the monkey bars already) or the looney tunes stage Moms (Tiaras and Toddlers) but the regular Mom's out there who go a little overboard... with the best of intentions. I've decided that a little bit of nuttiness is normal and a few of the crazies I've met along the way have become great friends. Well you know... birds of a feather....

*Granola Moms- This Mom is pretty devoted, she makes all her own baby food, uses cloth diapers and totally composts. But she also breastfeeds until they go to kindergarden and still shares the "family bed" with her nine year old. So don't feel bad that you weaned when your little girl when she got her first chomper (that shiz hurts)! I'm not saying the Native people of wherever didn't do it the best way for them, but we are in a new time... where we all have our own rooms... for sleeping in.... by ourselves.

*Nosy Nellies- We are all a little curious about how things go down in other houses. (Is bath time a nightmare for anyone but me?) But there is a line of curiosity we just don't need to cross at the Mommy and Me Music Class. However, this Mom wants to know every detail about your life from what kind of diaper cream you use to how your stitches healed post episiotomy (Is your vag ever the same? Ummmm I am not telling you that EV.ER.) Most likely its just her insecurities getting the best of her, and hey we all have moments like that.

*The Clinger- She checks to see which swim lessons your kids are taking to make sure your in the same class and stops by whenever she's on your side of town. But hey she's always up for hanging and never leaves your calls unreturned. She's basically harmless. She's just lonely and likes you. A lot. Give her some boundaries and try not to go ape shit when she gets upset that you had coffee with your neighbor.

*Cell Phone Appendage Mom- Ok I get it, I miss talking to adults too. And I only really have time for one phone conversation a day, (thank God for texting otherwise some of my awesome Mommy friends might only hear from me once a month) but seriously you gotta put the phone down from time to time. Like when your kids are playing at the park, or when they are screaming for the Ariel Doll at Target. This is not the time to update your facebook status to "kids going insane and taking me with them." Because if you don't pay attention to them I will throw the damn doll at your head.

*Scheduled Mom- The kids are playing at the park and being GREAT. Like you could sit down and read a book good (not that you would... but still). But when she looks at her watch, its 11:45, and lunch is as 12:00 followed by a nap at 12:30. So instead of wavering on the timeline and being a little tiny bit flexible, she scoops her kids up (kicking and screaming) and drags them home. Because she has a schedule people! (I may have some first hand knowledge of this Mom. I mean... it might have been me. Maybe.)


You've heard me mention Cool Mom Camouflage, but these Mom's are not necessarily toxic like Competitive Mommy. They are a little out there, but for the most part these Mom's are just trying to connect with someone and do what they think is the best for their kids. Mommyhood can be isolating, and many Moms think they need to come across a certain way to be accepted. So they overcompensate by banning sugar or asking new friends to overshare. But if we just accept each other for the Mom's we are, we might not need to camouflage the crazy. And that's all I'm saying.

Weeding Sucks and Other Life Lessons

So I know everyone is sick of hearing about me surviving another deployment but... too bad! Because I have really learned a lot this time around, and conquering all these new challenges has made me feel pretty awesome. I had a ton of visitors this time and each one has helped me discover something new about myself and my abilities. If my husband had been home to just take care of the man chores, I never would have forced myself out of my comfort zone and tackled what once seemed insurmountable (maintaing the yard). Of course some of these jobs I will happily hand over as soon as he walks in the door, but knowing I can do it feels pretty good. Here's what I learned....

*You need gas AND oil to run a lawn mower.
*How to make curtains, my self threading sewing machine gathered dust for way too long.
*Pool maintenance is all about consistency.
*Get all the kids seen at the doctors when you go, because you wont want to do it again for a looonnnggg time.
*Power tools are fun.
*Weeding is not.
*Outdoor umbrellas should be taken down BEFORE a thunder storm.
*It is possible to take three kids under five to the grocery store and actually get groceries...as long as you bring cookies.
*Wine has actually saved a life... three little lives to be specific.

It might not seem like an impressive list to anyone but me, but I know when he comes home I have grown. Of course I've killed a few of his flowers and they may be a few brown patches in the grass, but I've juggled more this time than I ever have and I am no longer afraid I can't do it. Instead I am convinced that even if it seems hard I'll get it done. On no sleep. Anyone have a Super Mom cape I can borrow?

Competitive Mommy

There is a Mom lurking in our midsts, and her Motherhood Mafia card has been revoked. You may not recognize her for what she truly is initially, but take heed, you do not want her around. She's is a sneaky little Mommy. At first you love her. She'll listen to you vent about how hard potty training can be, she'll give you gourmet vegan recipes, but just as you're revealing your dark Mommy secrets, she say's something that leaves you speechless. I ran into one just last week. I was shopping for the usual stock ups on diapers, wipes and pull ups when outta no where I heard "Liz! How are you? Oh by the way, the dollar store has great deals on brand-X pull ups. But we can't use them, she (points to daughter) hasn't needed them for over a year. How old is your little guy? I'm surprised he still needs them." KA-POW! Sucker punch right were it counts, in the Mommyhood! You see how this type of Mom operates? She appers nice and even helpful from time to time, but right when you think she'll be the newest member of your MOM-tourage she reveals she is indeed.... Competitive Mommy.

There are a few dead giveaways you'll need to be on the look out for.

*Owns a BOB Jogger, but never walks anything but the mall. Only uses it to discredit your well loved instep.
*Says things like, "My little Suzy was potty trained at 18 months and started reading Mandarin the next year. We think she's gifted. But your three year old will poop in the potty soon enough."
*Comes over and suggests the name of a good housekeeper after she uses your bathroom.
*Tells you she never had to childproof because her kids never touched anything they weren't supposed to... but they listen really well.
*Buys organic but doesn't recycle.
*As your two meltdown over popsicle color exclaims "I don't know how you do it, I'd loose my mind if my kids were fighting so much. My two just seem to adore each other!"
*Will Most likely be a Hot Mom.
*"Oh My! He's not sitting up on his own? Well I guess if the Doctor says it's normal, I'm just used to my kids who sat up at 3 months."
*Her child is enrolled in at least five activities.

No, you may not be able to spot her right away, she wears cool Mom camouflage like no other... but cool Mom she is not. She will cut you with a smile and act like she has no idea she's doing it. It's hard enough being a Mom, there are always going to be things we could to better, and a lot of parenthood is learned through trial and error. The last thing you want is someone reminding you that despite thoughtful parenting and best laid plans, you sometimes fall short. While you're trying to to do your best for your kids, she's trying to do better than you. You need that like you need a leaky pull up at your next play-date together. Which wouldn't have happened if you'd have just listened to her potty training advise... or bought her dollar store pull ups. Bitch.

My Dad

My Dad is a little bit strange. He is a banker and is so cheap he doesn't buy garbage bags, opting instead to REUSE (eww, I know) paper sacks that he empties into his larger garbage can. He buys clothes but won't wear them for months, sometimes years after he's bought them. He eats oatmeal for breakfast and turkey sandwich for lunch about 360 days out of the year. His undiagnosed OCD has him check that the door is locked and the stove is turned off at least three times before he leaves the house. He has a contagious laugh, once he starts he can't stop, and can take a joke. He has beautiful eyes (that I did not get) and a very tender soul (that I did get). But the best thing about my Dad is he shows up for his kids, over and over.

When I was little it was coaching my soccer team, and a few years later he never missed a basketball game. He would wake up at five in the morning, start the car to warm it up and then wake me up to get me to practice on time. I would sit in his car with a blanket wrapped around me and (I'm sure) a very sullen tween attitude and a smart mouth while he drove me 25 minutes round trip out of his way, to practice every morning. He paid for my year abroad, private school and any extra activity I could think of (probably by returning the clothes he hadn't worn) without complaint. He would let me talk about my problems, marveling over the teenagers love logic, but never told me what to do. When I couldn't clean out an apartment, he did it... and then drove my stuff 1000 miles to my new home. He cried at my wedding, and came out to visit whenever the Hubs was gone and I needed some company.

This is not to say he's perfect, he made mistakes and I was a tough kid. But he taught me to own up, take accountability for your actions and learn your lesson. Now that I am raising my own strong willed and free spirited daughter I see how hard it is to balance her need for independence without squishing her spirit. Despite all the times I huffed and puffed, rolled my eyes and slammed my door he still told me he loved me... as he took the door off the hinges. So Happy Fathers Day Dad. Thanks for showing up (over and over and over again) and sticking it out with me. You deserve a gold watch or something! But I'm not going to get it for you... I was raised by a banker and am way too cheap for that.

My Way When He Hits the Highway

Deployment is soul sucking. There are no breaks, even when you get a sitter you're still on call. Your kids need more from you than you ever thought you'd have to give and because you're all alone the patience reserve is low. There is a dull ache of worry and heartbreak you carry like a sack of potatoes every moment of the day. All of these stressors can get the best of you quite quickly. It's easy to feel a little woe is me, but no matter how overwhelming it all can be you have to put on the Mom jeans and deal. With many separations under my belt I have come to accept its going to be hard... but there are things I can do to lift my spirits. I try to find things that make me happy and focus my attention on those outlets. So what do I do to get by? I embrace my quirks, and here are three things I have come to love about deployments....

*My Way All Day- You might be looking forward to a lazy Saturday afternoon, but Dad has made other plans. Yard work maybe, or his buddy has a softball game and they need a outfielder. But on deployment, I get to make all the plans! Woo Hoo! Who wants to go to the MALL? (Yes you can ride the train as long as you are quiet while I spent 20 minutes at Sephora trying all kinds of lotions and potions). I can stay in the pool all day, I can let laundry pile up. Early bedtime? Ok! PB&J for dinner? Sounds great Mom! I don't have to answer to anyone, my agenda is all that matters and that is really nice sometimes.

*Hyper-Organization- I admit, I am a bit of an OCD housekeeper. It's not that my home is always super clean, but I like my cleaning schedule and knowing that everything has a place. So while Dad is gone, no one is messing up my neatly stacked, fold facing out towel piles. The kids aren't allowed to track mud in on Tuesday or Friday (clean floor day, thanks for remembering before you let them splash in mud puddles Hun). I can line up my drinks in the fridge, label out. The kids always put their toys away in exactly the right spot because I can oversee it all. Let's face it, unless you want to make yourself (and your man) coo-koo this is not a regular reality. But while he's gone, I love opening my pantry and knowing everything is exactly where it should be...label out.

*Remote CONTROL- No matter how cool your man is, there are shows he is just not into. And they are always the most awesome ones like Real Housewives of anywhere and HBO anything. I can only deal with so much huffing and eye-rolling before I change the channel. But guess what? He's not here and I really need the mental vacay! I get to stay up late with a bowl of popcorn, a 16 & Pregnant marathon and zero judgements (oh be honest, like you don't watch trash too).

I miss him all the time, but finding a little happiness goes a long way in preventing the sad spiral. When I can go to sleep knowing we're all organized and full on mindless TV I wake up wanting to do it again for one more day. After a while I can stop counting the days and start counting the weeks. When he's home a happy chaos rules, and I don't really miss my way. Because having Dad around means doing it "our" way. And together is always the best way.

Don't Cry Over Spilled.... Cheesecake

This last Christmas Dan was gone. My kids were sick and one had puked all over my bed the night before. My Mom was having some health issues. It was the forth year in a row he was gone over the holidays. To top it off it was our first in our new house and I was about 5 months pregnant. I was so depressed! I tried to remind my self I was fortunate to have family coming in for the holidays, but I just couldn't shake the sadness. I wanted him home, I was sick and tired of making the best of it for my kids. I wanted my whole family together, and I was only hanging on by a very frayed thread.

Because I couldn't have what I really wanted (wine) I spent a lot of the time baking... and eating. I had been perfecting my mother in law's famous cheese cake recipe, and was planning on serving it Christmas Eve. I spent about an hour prepping and mixing, and as I was bringing it to the oven the bottom on my spring form pan gave out. I had cheesecake on the floor, all over the oven, and I just stood over it crying. It was such a metaphor for the deployment, no matter how hard I tried to make it ok, it wasn't. After a minute, I wiped my nose and stood up to grab some paper towels when I noticed a delivery van in the driveway. A split second later there was a man with a huge bouquet of flowers standing at my door.

"Just Keep Going" the card read. I was sobbing and my hands were shaking, it was like a message from God right to my heart. (A Christmas Miracle perhaps?) They weren't from any of the usual suspects: my sweet Man, or my best friend. The flowers were from a few of my high school friends with whom I had recently reconnected. These girls, who had almost no connection to the military, and who a year earlier had no idea what happened to me, sent me a lifeline. It came at just the last moment, right as I was breaking down. I was reminded that someone's gotta clean up the cheesecake, and for now that person is me. I might not have my partner to lean on but I would get up everyday and continue to move forward. That glimmer of love kept me going until he got home. I still keep the card on my fridge not just as a reminder of how much a small gesture can keep someones spirits alive, but also so I never forget to "Just Keep Going." No matter how many cheesecakes I drop.

Don't Wait for the Baby Weight

It always seems to be right around two months postpartum that I start feeling really fat. Right after having the little man, weight was dropping off at an astounding rate, and most of it was gone in the first few weeks. But as any Mom will tell you there are always the last few (or in my case 15) pounds that don't want to budge. My old clothes don't fit, and I'll be dammed if I'm wearing maternity anything for one more day. So while I feel so much better after looking like the size of a house for months, I am not where I want to be. Entering my closet feels like walking into a torture chamber. Reminding myself I JUST HAD A BABY (while slightly reassuring) still leaves me asking... what the hell am I going to wear?

I do love my yoga pants, but something about putting on sweats to hit the grocery store because nothing else fits is utterly depressing. And it's summer in florida which means I will not only look lazy, I'll look sweaty, fat and lazy. Not a good combo for the old ego. A lot of people have advise on this, but it usually comes down to flowey tops (ehh, really? The goal is not to look like I'm wearing more maternity tops), leggings (no way. I didn't have a baby in my butt, but it looks like it when the behind is encased in anything close to spandex-ey material), or empire waist dresses (again, maternity and not cute if you need to whip out a boob).

So even though I hate spending money on clothes I know won't fit me for long (god willing) It must be done. So I begrudgingly size up in jeans or capri's. Yes it sucks. But I only buy a couple and (sad as it sounds) I would prefer to be seen as fat than mistaken for pregnant. I buy those jersey skirts, you know the a-line style with a fold over waist? Perfect for summer and you always feel a little dressed up even though they are so totally comfortable they might as well be yoga pants! And finally, my ace in the hole, a v-neck top. Guys will be too busy checking out the jugs to notice the belly (enjoy the rack before they turn into saggy grammy boobs you can tuck into your pants) and lets face it, it's about the only thing you got going for ya right now!

So when someone tires to tell you about these awesome drawstring waist shorts they lived in post baby, remind them that the last thing you need is fabric gathered around your "problem areas" and drive your juicy booty on over to the nearest Target or Old Navy and grab a few things that fit. You deserve to feel good looking in the mirror. Just make sure it's machine washable. Because no matter how good you feel rocking it, no one likes a cute outfit with a sour milk smell.

*DISCLAIMER- I am not a fashionista, so take all of the above with a grain of salt and look forward to Mom Mania's first guest blog from my talented fashion writer and stylist sister (who also just became a Mom! Welcome baby Macey who spends her time just laying around being perfect). I'm sure her post baby style focused tips will not include the pajama jean.

Laundry Day is Everyday

I have been dealing with a lot of transitions lately. Adjusting to baby number three is the big one, but there have been others as well. Daddy headed out again, and both my "big" kids are entering new phases in their lives. All of these changes, while mostly good (except the Daddy leaving part), reminds of the biggest transition I made almost five years ago when I went from married and working to a Stay at Home Mom. I wish I could say it was easy, and I just fit right into it, but I struggled. I missed adult conversations and having a reason to change out of my PJ's every day. I was fortunate to be surrounded by some AH-mazing (and thankfully more experienced) Stay at Home Mom's. They lovingly and patiently passed on their wisdom over wine nights and walks. So while I find myself muddling through these current transitions, I have a good foundation of knowledge to stand on. Being a Stay at Home Mom is the most wonderful job I've had but the learning curve is steep. Since I learned from the best, I figured I'd better share some of the rules I learned to live by....

*Staying at home is a job, give yourself a lunch break everyday.
*If you clean the house a little everyday, you'll almost never have to devote an entire Saturday to it.
*Keep your kids on a routine. You need to know nap time (sanity break) is coming.
*Pack snacks that keep kids busy like raisin boxes or string cheese.
*Yes, juice boxes really are that cool. Bubbles are even cooler.
*If things don't have a home you will spend half your day moving them from one spot to another.
*Laundry day is every day.
*Go outside. Go for a walk, go to the store, play in the yard, just get out.
*Take a shower, even if you have to put a kid in a play pen.
*It's totally cool to rock the sweat pants every day, just make sure they're cute sweats!
*Sometimes kids just have to cry it out.
*If you wanna be the sheriff you gotta lay down the law.
*Whenever you schedule a well baby appointment also schedule a hair appointment. It's time.
*You are not a hawk so baby-proof.
*If another SAHM says "Call Me" she means it. She hasn't talked to an adult all day either.
*When in doubt just keep going.

Sometimes in a laundry, lunch, and diaper frenzy we can forget how lucky we are to be the one to collect all the little moments that make a childhood. Say thank you to the man who makes your job possible. And then tell him to handle bed time while you have a glass of wine. You've earned it.