And With That Break Is Almost Over

I am not ready for tomorrow to be Sunday. I am not ready for the weekend to be over. I am not ready for the girls to go back to school, for Adam to go back to work, for our regularly scheduled life to start back up.

It has been so relaxing being away from the stress of everyday life. No worrying about laundry or vacuuming. No walking into the bathroom and being reminded by the grime that I still haven't gotten around to cleaning the sink (or bathtub or toilet). No dishes piling up in the sink. No grocery lists to make. No furnace not working, then kind of working, then teasing us that next year our budget might need to include a new one.

Being with family has been wonderful. The older girls have been playing with their cousins almost non-stop, meaning they don't require a lot of extra time and energy from me. And having other adults around is always helpful with Miss Nora May. And I have gotten to read an entire book and watch cheesy Christmas movies.

This weekend launched me into full mode Christmas cheer, and I guess I'm a little afraid that break ending will dim the light that's been lit in me this weekend. But maybe if we crank up the Christmas music, and I keep up my streak of Christmas movie viewing it'll help keep some of that regular-every-day-stress at bay.

I'll try anyway.

Happy beginning of the Christmas season!

xoxo, christine

Sweet Thanksgiving Eve

It is the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. I have memories of spending the evening peeling and slicing apples as my family sat around the kitchen table preparing apple strudel. It probably wasn't every year, but the tradition is so set in my mind that I remember it like it was.

We have not continued the tradition of apple strudel the night before Thanksgiving, although I still have hopes that as the girls get older we will. I don't even care for cooked apples, but the memories of Thanksgiving weekends past are full of so much joy in my heart that I would love to continue the tradition with my own family.

We are not in the kitchen mixing the scents of cinnamon with sugar and apple, but we are with family, and my husband is in the kitchen doing some Thanksgiving prep. The stuffing family recipe is well under way and the turkey is receiving its preparations for tomorrow. The baby is asleep after a long day with a short nap, and the two older girls are watching "Despicable Me" with their grandpa.

Spending time with family, that's what makes the holiday special. No, we are not in the middle of apple strudel central tonight, but this weekend, this holiday, these memories, they are just as sweet.


xoxo, christine

Routine

We are a family of routine. We like them and we make them rather quickly. So when a routine gets changed, even if it is for a good and happy reason (like Adam being home from work) we seem to all get a little thrown for a loop.

I love when Adam is able to be home during the work week. It does not happen often, which is perhaps part of what makes it feel special, but when he is home it feels like bonus time. Whether that time is spent working on projects, or running errands, or sharing a lunch, it is an actual welcome change from our routine.

But it doesn't come without complications. Our morning routine somehow feels more stressful when he is home. There is something about the extra body or our unfamiliarity with each other's morning movements that seem to keep us stumbling over each other. And time moves faster on the mornings he is home, forcing me to push harder and faster to get the older girls out to the bus stop on time.

Nora had a terribly difficult afternoon today, which I am not hinting is a direct result of our change in routine. She did, however, have several variables working against her, one of which was her change in routine. It's a delight to have Daddy home midweek, but it still is not our "usual." But, she also had a rough night last night, seems to be getting a few molars, and took a nap that was about two hours too short. When the ingredients fall together just so, it is inevitable that the afternoon falls apart just so as well, which is exactly what happened.

The minutes between five thirty and seven o'clock seemed impossibly prolonged as she toddled around the house whining and crying and frustrated and angry because I just wasn't understanding and doing what she wanted. It was a night that I frantically wanted to end ASAP, like twenty minutes ago. But I didn't put her to bed at five thirty. I knew it would be a bigger mistake to get her down too early than it was a fight to be in the same room with her until seven.

I gave her all the attention I could muster, which was only sometimes the right amount to keep her from yelling, and when the clock hit 6:58 I was in her bedroom with the lights out and bedtime routine started.

We like our routines in this house, it is true. But we sometimes like variation too. And even though we trip over each other when Adam is off midweek, we would gladly adjust to a new routine if he could be home during the day more often.

It is always nice to have him home.

xoxo, christine

Bunk Bed High Jinks

We are all perched in the bedroom. One on the top bunk doodling in a notebook, another throwing her hands up while jumping up and down for her victory dance, a third one peeking over the dresser trying to find things she normally isn't allowed to touch, and me sitting against the wall with my legs stretching all the way to the bed, an unintentional divider splitting the space.

When the little one pulls at the bed, jutting out her chin and grunting her request, it becomes an invitation for the rest of us. As she flops her body back and forth on the mattress, snuggling under the covers and then bouncing up and down, we become like a moth to the flame, we must join the fun. The bed is beckoning us to climb aboard, and we do.

The four of us are squeezed onto the bed. The little one squeals and laughs, delighting in our participation. We wrestle each other into the pillows, giggling as we try to avoid knocking heads. The older two take turns driving what has now become the boat, and at some point we all start singing about the foot bone connecting to the ankle bone and all dem bones.

Eventually it is time to wind down, the little one has to go to bed soon and I realize that a quieter activity makes adjusting for bedtime a little easier. Our adventures on the bed are over, for tonight.

I am left with the sunny feeling of having this time with them. It was perhaps a small sliver of a moment, but I will hold it in my heart. Not all moments are so joyful and filled with ease when three children try to play together. But tonight, for that small moment, there was no arguing, no pouting, no tears. No yelling, or frustration, or anger. Just smiles and snuggles and being together.

And I hope that they remember it with warm hearts. I hope that they think back on times like this and remember how we all played together and laughed and lived so deeply in our connection to each other. I hope I remember it too. One of the memories I can pull out after a particularly frustrating day, and remember that the days aren't all bad. We have a lot of these good moments too. They are here, waiting to be remember, to be acknowledged, to be called upon at anytime.

This night time bed party just filled my tank to the brim. And I am so grateful to embracing the moment and climbing onto the bed with them. That the four of us crowded together with our feet in each other's faces and our arms wrapped around each other and our laughter echoing our hearts' content.

My heart is content.

xoxo, christine

And the Thunder Rolls

In the far off distance, I hear a quiet roll of thunder. I can tell that it is gradually making it's way toward me, toward us. I can't tell what kind of storm it will be. If it is the loud window-rattling crashing that causes my senses to heighten because I fear the storm's damage. Or if it is the kind of storm with a few bright splashes of light and quiet rumbles that feels like a much-needed shower, washing away the dirt and old and bringing a reawakening the earth when it is over.

Is it the rain that pelts so hard it stings your skin? Or is the rain that falls gently in big drops - the kind of rain that makes you want to put on your rain boots and dance outside?

There have been signs of an impending storm for months. I have done everything from bury my head and pretend I can't hear it, to pasting on a fake smile and pretending I'm not nervous or worried, to falling apart and anticipating the worst.

Is it always like this with change?

I can hear it coming, but I'm not sure if it's something to fear or to dread. Probably a little of both, to be honest, but change can be scary and overwhelming and does not always bring out the best in me.

I have discovered, as I anticipate my day-to-day routine changes, that I have really enjoyed where I am and what has worked for our family thus far. I am not a an über-stay-at-home mom. It is not my forte, I am not good at juggling the laundry, cleaning, child-rearing, and everything in between. However, as change hovers on the horizon I can tell you with certainty that I am incredibly glad that this is where I've been able to be the past seven and half years. I can confidently say that I like being a stay-at-home mom, even on the days I want to run out of the house screaming as soon as my husband comes home.

Being home with my kids has been a great gift for me. And even though I haven't always felt this way, and it's taken me quite awhile to realize it, I am so thankful that this is what worked for our family.

Maybe that is why the thunder is the distance is giving me so much pause. I am afraid to lose some of what I am so grateful for. Except, I know that there are so many more good things coming with the rain. I'm just hoping it doesn't sting too much.

xoxo, christine

Pumpkin Flavored Back-to-School

It's back-to-school time which means that every social media newsfeed is full of first day of school photos, the heavy sticky air is replaced with a cool crispness, the bright green tree tops are transitioning to yellows and reds, and pumpkin-flavored everything can be found in every cafe.

Of course, our school started last week, when pretty much the only accurate part of that previous statement was the pumpkin-flavored everything. Somehow mother nature didn't get the autumn memo come September first and we reached temperatures in the nineties just in time for my kids to be in air-condition-free classrooms.

Today it actually does have a hint of autumn to the air, which makes me simultaneously happy (I love fall!) and depressed (I'm not ready for winter!).

This year I sent two kids off on the bus, and the only reason I didn't bawl was because of the huge smile Paige managed to have climbing onto the bus. Our first week was pretty jumbled and unexpected because of an unanticipated illness causing Hope to be sent home on her first day. (She gets to claim the "first child sent home sick from school" award from the school nurse.)

In any case, because of that she was not able to be on the bus with Paige for Paige's first day. Cue my mama heart almost exploding with terror and fear. But Paige handled it with more poise and maturity than I ever would have thought and asked (all my herself) the little girl at our bus stop if they could sit together. Thus, Paige's huge smile as the bus took her away, and my heart not completely splattered all over the pavement.

I can not believe that my two big girls are in school all day, and although I wish I could be one of those moms that claps her hands and does a back-to-school dance, I'm much more in the 'I miss my babies', holding-back-the-tears camp.

It does help me having Nora and home and we are s-l-o-w-l-y finding our own rythm to these week days. I'm not used to just having a little one at home so I feel like I should be able to get so much done (look at me cook and clean and clean and do stuff and and and), except that Nora's a little more needy than a five-year-old or a seven-year-old so my To Do list isn't getting crossed off quite as quickly as I was hoping.

For all of my complaining and whining and struggles though, I like it. I really do. I like that it has worked for our family for me to stay home. I like that I am available for sick-child-at-school-pick-up and middle of the day grocery runs and field trip volunteers. I like that I pack the lunches and see the big girls off on the bus each morning. I like that I was able to do Mommy and Me classes with each of my girls and have play dates and go to parks and wander aimlessly pushing a stroller around the mall in the middle of winter. I like that I can sit on the floor and play Little People with Nora as she climbs on my lap.

It will be good, this year, I know. I'm not quite plugging my fingers in my ears and running in the opposite direction of my kids growing up and school starting, but I'm not quite ready to fully embrace it yet either. This transition to back-to-school and homework and fall activities and changes in schedules is an adjustment, sometimes more so for me than for anyone else in my family. But it will be good. I know it will.

Now excuse me while I try to get myself in the spirit with some pumpkin muffins.

xoxo, christine

A Birthday Written in the Stars

My dearest Nora May,

Today you turn one. A whole year. 365 days of life. 365 days of you. 365 days since the first moment you came into the world, our world, bright eyed and probably crying (but I don't remember clearly if you actually cried right away or not because I was still reeling from such a fast and painful delivery. I however, was definitely crying.)

Every moment with you has been filled with joy, layered with happiness, wrapped in love. It is like you knew what we needed before you were even here. Although not without your tears or anger, you are a happy baby, your smile garnering comments from strangers wherever we go.

I hardly remember what our life looked like before you, you fit so snuggly into our family, a missing piece we didn't even know was missing until you were here. And then when we held you in our arms, when we brought you home, when we looked at you and snuggled you, it was like, Yes, of course. There you are.

How can it already be a year since you were that teeny seven pound newborn? I look at you and I still see that baby, but then I look again and I see an almost toddler who cruises her twenty-two pounds around the house like the boss, pulling herself onto every piece of furniture she can, going straight for any crumb, any cord, any thing that is sure to elicit a "no-no" from a family member.

This past year has had some difficulties, for sure, but even in my frustrations, even with the agony of sleepless nights, all is well, all is right. On this day last year, on the day you left the comfort and warmth of your home for the past nine months into the unknown and cold of our world, you brought with you so much joy, so much love, so much healing to my mama heart.

My worry of how your sisters would feel, how they would adjust, was unfounded, they opened their arms wide, their hearts already synchronized with yours. You are three sisters, a trio. You look for them when the are not there, you smile when they enter the room, you are ready to get in on their fun.

Nora, this year has gone too quickly, my heart aches at the thought of you no longer being a baby. And yet, I am so happy and thrilled to see you grow and flourish. I could never want to keep you a baby forever. Every day with you is like unwrapping a present. You have given me more perspective, more understanding, and even more love into my heart than I thought was possible.

Your life was written in the stars long before I was ever here. But I am so incredibly thankful, and so incredibly grateful, to be your mother. Happy Birthday, my sweet Nori. I love you SO much. Thank you for bringing your light into our lives. You make it brighter.

Love, hugs, and kisses,
Mommy

A Very 'Mary' Un-Birthday, to You

I know that birthdays aren't your favorite, at least your own birthdays. I get that. I really do. Marking the passage of one more year, of the illusive Time, the never-ending march toward Next, it does not always feel like a reason to celebrate.

Once you hit a certain age a birthday just doesn't have the same thrill and excitement that it once did. The joy of opening a wrapped up doll when you're a new three-year-old, the anticipation of a turning sweet sixteen, somewhere between becoming an official adult and the years after, a birthday starts to lose it's magic.

But, even though I get it, I still want to tell you Happy Birthday.

I am happy that those 'few' years ago your mother welcomed you into the world with tears and sweat. Another healthy daughter. There were smiles on their faces as they cradled you, kissing your eyes, breathing in the smell of your head, caressing your cheeks. The overwhelming love and joy that your mother and father felt for you, the reason that they celebrated you every year, remembering that first July 5th when you took your first breath, cried your first cry.

I am thankful that, although surely not perfectly (because no one is a perfect parent), they parented you and loved you the best way they knew how. I am thankful for you because you raised a pretty amazing son, who also happens to be my husband. I think it's wonderful that you came into this world, because without you, there would be no him. Without him there would be no us. Without us there would be no family.

All those birthdays led to you having your son. All the birthdays after that led to your son being the kind of man I wanted to marry. All your birthdays after that led us to here, now.

But I am not only thankful for your birthday because I am thankful for the man you helped raise. I am thankful for your birthday too, because I am thankful to have you in my life. You. I am lucky enough to be a woman who can say quite honestly, I like my mother-in-law, I enjoy spending time with her, I respect and admire her, and I love her dearly.

You are an amazing and beautiful person.

And even though it might not always feel the greatest to celebrate turning a year older, I am thrilled to be celebrating such a woman, who raised a son, who welcomed another daughter, who gets to spend time with and love on her granddaughters.

You are why we are celebrating. You are who we want to celebrate.

Happy Birthday!

xoxo, christine

We're Still Adjusting Too: Truth Telling Tuesday

Even though Nora fits into our family perfectly, it's not all easy peasy lemon squeezy adjusting to life with three kids.

Like when I'm trying to put Nora down to sleep and a little blond head pops in whispering, Mom, can I have a snack? or Mom, can I watch tv? or Mom, can I play outside? I furrow my brow and wave vigerously as I want to scream, No. Nonono. No! Go away. Because if Nora sees a sister or hears a sister or even senses a sister is near by she is going to be ready to find out what kind of fun her sister is doing and how she can be a part of it too.

No matter how many times I remind the older girls that unless it is an emergency -- Is someone in trouble? Is someone hurt? -- then whatever it is they want to ask can wait. This is not a free-for-all "yes" to any question, it is a you-can-wait-the-few-minutes-it-takes-to-get-your-baby-sister-down-to-bed-to-ask thing. I try to emphasize that it takes at least twice as long to get Nora settled in if our routine gets interrupted, which means twice as long until I will answer their question, but it's a hard lesson to grasp.

We've also had a little realization that babies require a lot of attention, which means that if you're an older sister you get less attention, and if you're the oldest you seem to get the least amount of attention. This was part of a conversation I overheard the girls share in bed awhile ago. It's hard for their minds to understand the needs that babies have. We aren't giving them less attention, but I'm sure it feels like it because we have to provide all of Nora's needs. Plus, it's difficult when you're a seven-year-old and your two younger sisters are home with mommy getting more one-on-one time while you're at school all day.

Also, now that Nora is completely mobile they are starting to grasp that she can get into their toys. Mom? Can you grab Nora? We're trying to play here. I understand how frustrating it can be, to have a baby demolishing the elaborate set-up they made to play, and sometimes I will keep Nora away. But there are other times that if they want Nora kept out of their toys, then they are required to move their play into their bedroom. Sometimes they like to play with their baby sister, but lately there have been quite a few, Nora! Stop it!s drifting in from wherever they're playing.

Still, it is worth it all.

The way they rush to Nora's side when they hear her wake from a nap. The way Nora smiles when she sees one of her sisters walk into the room. The way Hope wants to feed Nora at dinner time. The way the older sisters giggle and copy the silly faces Nora makes. The way they fight over who gets to sit next to her, push her in the swing, give her more hugs, try to make her laugh. The way she looks at them, like they hang the moon, which as her big sisters, they do. They are her world. And she is theirs.

And the three of them, they are mine. I will take it all. The easy, the hard, the good, the bad. I will take it all because it is all where I am. It is all where I want to be.

xoxo, christine

A Stubborn Refusal to Laugh: Truth Telling Tuesday

Last night at the dinner table I couldn't keep myself together. I didn't cry or yell, but the deflation I felt left my body in a huff of frustration. I was hoping to have a quiet and involved conversation, with everyone contributing and listening at the appropriate times.

See, we used to do Highs and Lows during our evening meal as a way to connect with each other and gather information about each other's days. Especially from the girls who aren't always willing talk about their day's experiences and feelings. In an effort to gather data from Paige, who seems to be struggling with some recent anxiety, I wanted to use the non-direct "game" to try to gather some clues as to where this might be coming from.

Of course, as a seasoned parent, I should know by now that expectations are dangerous gambles, ones that usually do not pay out. There is little control for how things will go when it comes to children.

Dinner was not full of thoughtful conversation connecting us together, it was loud and chaotic with me struggling to keep the conversation on topic and no one really paying attention. I was upset and frustrated and worked up so, like the adult that I am, I finally sprang up from the table and huffed into the kitchen. (I'm incredibly mature like that.)

I should have let the moment go where it wanted and released my grasp on needing to pull the conversation somewhere specific. Sometimes you just have to let go of the idea you had in your head of how things are going to be, and just let things go where they want instead. I should have done that. I should have let go.

But I didn't.

I got all annoyed and offended and put out that people weren't listening to me and taking me seriously. Instead of a serious discussion about our days and how we were feeling, dinner was full of loud noises and giggling and a vocabulary lesson courtesy of my husband's joke that had the word "ass" in it. My mood was much too serious for the evening and instead of letting their laughter lift me up, I pushed myself further and further down into serious grumpiness. I refused to budge out of my annoyance that dinner was not going as planned and into the much lighter tone at the table.

I do that sometimes. It's like I can't let go of my surprise (turned annoyance) at things getting silly, but instead of just going with it, I dig in my heels and fight it. I refuse to let go of whatever I wanted to be going on and enjoy myself, and instead make myself more and more miserable until I either completely explode in anger or deflate in exasperation.

The deflation feels a lot like giving up, unlike giving in to the moment which feels like changing my attitude and perspective and laughing with my family.

It's sad to me, that I can be so stubborn like this, unable or unwilling to change my attitude on a whim and be silly. Yet, at the same time, there's still a part of me that is disappointed that we didn't have the conversation I wanted and that no one seemed to take me seriously.

Of course, since we weren't going to connect as a family with a serious discussion of Highs and Lows that I was hoping for, I should have seen and seized the opportunity to connect as a family over being silly and chaotic.

Still, I wouldn't turn down an apology, or even just a hug or two.

xoxo, christine


I am trying something new, Truth Telling Tuesday, posting every Tuesday a truth about myself. I think on of the best way to connect to other people is to share our truths. I feel the most connection to someone who has gone out of her way to be authentic and unafraid to share who she is and what she wants and how she feels. Her truth. So I'm going to try that out here. Sometimes the truths may be serious and deep and other times silly insignificant. I have no idea how this will go, or if I'll even keep doing it. But I just wanted to give it a try, to give myself a push into sharing my truth.

It's A Big Deal Day

Last week, along with a five-year-old's birthday and Easter, we had a major milestone for Miss Nora. She turned nine-months-old. Nora has now been out of the womb for more than she has been in the womb.

(Of course my husband, Mr. Stickler For Details, had to point out that Nora came two weeks before her due date so technically she was likely already past that point by the eighth of the month, but I put my fingers in my ears and stuck my tongue out at him and ignored his attention to detail.)

How strange to think that she has been in our outside world for nine months already. Where did the time go? Surely she can't already be crawling and pulling herself up and trying to put everything in her mouth? She was just born! Yet, surely she has also been with our family from forever ago, so nine months really isn't that long at all. Nine months? Only? But how did our family dynamic ever feel complete without her presence?

I am in love with this little baby of ours. The way she smiles and kicks her legs when she sees someone she likes. The way she wrinkles her nose. The way she squints her eyes and shudders every time she tries a food for the first time. The way she leans and tilts her head to the side when trying to see something out of view. The way she fusses every single day when it's time to put her arms through the holes in a onsie. The way she makes a beeline straight for whatever she's not supposed to have, pretty much anything small and chokable. The way she rolls herself onto her tummy to sleep. The way she follows her sisters around the house now that she is mobil. The way she smiles, big and wide, still gummy with no teeth. The way she leans in open-mouthed to give kisses.

The way she fits, just-so into my arms.

Happy Nine-Month You've-Been-Out-Longer-Than-In Birthday, Nora May.

xoxo, mommy

(Spring Breaking) With a Little Help From Our Friends

Hello from Spring Break Land! I am enjoying a week home with all three of my babies and Adam even gets to join us starting tomorrow. Could I possibly be enjoying break a little more if all four of us girls weren't coughing and sniffling? Probably. And, would I maybe like to be somewhere with endless sun and sand and ocean views like we were last year and the year before? Absolutely.

Somehow, though, we are still managing to have fun and laugh and make new adventures. It's always made easier with a little help from friends. We managed three different parks in two days, exploring a few new (to us) parts of our locale. One of the nice things about living in a metropolitan area is that there are plenty of places we've never been that we can discover.

And yesterday was so sunshiney that I ended up with this weird redness on my forehead and collarbone. At least, I'm pretty sure it has something to do with the sun. I have vague recollections of getting similar patches of skin last summer if I didn't put some kind of special lotion on before going out for extended amounts of time. Ah, I think it's called sunburn? Could that be right? I don't know, it's been so long since I've been able to be outside and enjoy a warm sun that I just can't be sure. Further investigation and time in the sun (with sunscreen of course) might be necessary.

As an aside, have I mentioned that along with obtaining a smart phone I started an Instagram account? In case you don't quite get enough of me here. (I'm looking at YOU my dear sister, because obviously if I'm not posting here every day you need more of me and where oh where can you get some? At my Instagram account of course! You don't even need an account of your own to view the photos.) But, even if you aren't my sister, feel free to enjoy another way to peak into our lives. You might even get an amusing anecdote or two.

And, if you're not up for Instagram, I occasionally still post on Facebook too.

(What? Does it seem like social media is taking over my life? Yeah....kinda. But I swear it could be worse.)

Happy Spring Breaking everyone (who's on break this week)!

xoxo, christine

Eight Months and a Day

Today.

Today my baby is eight months and one day old. In some ways it feels like it was just a blink or two ago when we were welcoming her into the world, and yet at the same time I can hardly remember what our life looked like before her. It feels like she has always been here, been a part of our family.

I suppose, in a way, she has always been here, just waiting until it was her time. Waiting and waiting until her presence could be recognized, a physical part of our family. It is as if everything before has been leading up to this exact moment. Which it has. Which it always does.

Everything before Hope led up to Hope. Everything before Paige led up to Paige. Everything before Nora led up to Nora. Everything before this moment, led up to right now, these eight months and one day.

It all led up to now. To two proud big sisters who can capture her attention like no one else. To the way she giggles when I nuzzle my nose in her neck. To the way she smiles when her daddy comes home, kicking her legs and squinting her eyes right at him. To her fuzzy brown hair, her rolly thighs, her big blue eyes that don't want to miss a thing.

She has been with our family before we even knew we were a family. When Adam and I were sitting at a restaurant in Ireland, nervously picking at our dinner, giddy with the anticipation of a date and another date and then another. When we had a brisk pre-birthday dinner walk on the Stone Arch Bridge and Adam got down on his knee to propose. She has been with our family when the two of us said our vows in the church I was confirmed in. When we moved into our first house. She has been with us since we welcomed Hope into the world, and two years later when we welcomed Paige. When we found out we were pregnant with Calvin, and then when we found out we would lose him.

She has been with us the whole time, patiently waiting. A glimmer in my heart. A spark. A butterfly. A secret that only my heart could feel. Only my heart knew.

We are an odd number in our house now, the five of us. And I worry sometimes about the three girls growing up and someone always feeling left out, of it always being two against one. Yes, I worry and we are an odd number, yet there is nothing odd about it.

She is the magical golden thread weaving into our family's pattern. Her thread was always there, intricately tied into all of our designs, waiting for its time to be noticed, to be seen, and now we do. Now we can see what a beautiful part her piece is adding to the whole. How is it possible that we ever existed without her?

Eight months and a day. Nine months before that. Years before that. A lifetime.

It all leads up to today.

xoxo, christine

Today's Jackpot

I know that it's not always this way. There is frustration and annoyance and overwhelming feelings of hair-pulling-out -- especially if you've had 192838 snow days like those in the middle of Snowpalooza 2015 east of here. But today was the first day off of a long weekend for my kids, which means all three girls were home today, and for me, who had plenty of time to mentally prepare and lineup moral support and not be stuck in our house because of more snow, well, it felt really good.

I was hoping to spend a little extra time sleeping this morning since there was no need to get my first-grader out and on the bus, but my almost-eight-month-old had other plans. Instead of falling back to sleep after nursing this morning she spent an hour babbling and poking my face and giggling and pulling my hair. There was a moment or two, as my body protested with waking, that I felt a little put off, but as I slowly adjusted to the idea of consciousness, I realized our "early" morning could be put to good use. A trip to the donut shop for breakfast.

On our way to meet friends (that prescheduled play date I mentioned), we stopped at a new-to-us bakery where Hope devoured nine donut holes, Paige nibbled at the frosting on her cake donut, and both girls drank a juice that had zero percent fruit juice, one hundred percent artificial dye, and one thousand percent of the daily serving recommendation for sugar.

Then they ran it all out of their systems at the indoor park where we met our friends. I was pleasantly surprised at how well they did -- Hope running off to climb and explore but keeping me (mostly) in sight, Paige bopping back and forth between the closest play structure and the seat next to me, and Nora who was happy to rotate between my lap, the ground, and the arms of my friend.

Our play date was extended to a late lunch, and then (apparently I'm a high rolling gambler) I decided that after a full day out I might as well roll the dice one more time and run a quick errand before going home. While I didn't quite hit the jackpot, I also didn't have to fold either. We squeaked out of the store just in time to avoid a meltdown by two of the three. (The oldest and the youngest, in fact.)

By the time we got home I decided that I wanted to simultaneously crawl into bed at six o'clock for the night and get out of the house by myself and do something. Oddly enough (but not really) I did neither, which worked out okay too because I got to tuck all three of my girls in for bed.

Sometimes these days fall together just so, not because of anything I'm doing or not doing, but because they just do. I am fully aware that this day could've gone a completely different way. But I'm going to be thankful for the fun we had, the memories we made, and hope with all my might that my kids don't expect something equally ambitious on Monday, when they don't have school, again. I'll also send up a little prayer that I still have energy (and patience) left in my tank by then.

I joke about it, but really I know, today was a good day. We hit the jackpot with everyone cooperating and getting along and no major meltdowns or diaper explosions. It was as close to the perfect start to the weekend as it can get.

Now all I need to round out the perfection is to sleep in tomorrow.... (Nora, I'm looking at you.)

xoxo, christine

I See You. I Hear You. You Are Important to Me.

My husband I don't do anything for Valentine's Day. It's been years since we've gone out for dinner, given each other gifts, or even exchanged cards. And I'm okay with that. I like our sporadic tradition of a heart-shaped pizza from Papa Murphy's enjoyed with our kids. So when I told him that what I want for Valentine's Day this year is to be heard it was less a way to save money on a gift and more to, well, be heard.

Lately it feels like I am living with three walls, a husband-sized wall and two kid-sized walls. I am talking at them, not with them. I want to engage in conversation. To receive comments and followup questions. I want someone to be interested in what I have to say. I want a husband who focuses on me when I'm telling him seemly unimportant things. I want kids who respond and listen when I speak to them, the first time.

I am frustrated and discouraged. When I try to talk with someone it leaves me feeling unheard and unimportant, which is annoying, but also disheartening, like I should just stop bothering to say anything at all. So, in telling my husband what I wanted for Valentine's Day, it was mostly just another way for me to emphasize that lately, I don't feel like anyone is listening. I don't feel heard.

And then, I realized. How well am I listening? Instead of focusing on myself, maybe I should shift my perspective and make sure that my family is feeling heard by me.

I know that when my husband is talking to me, when my kids are talking to me, I can be distracted. If it's not the phone or computer, it's the twelve million other things going on in my mind. And, if I'm feeling ignored or unimportant, how must my family feel? Probably ignored and unimportant.

Isn't that what we all long for? To have our voice be listened to. To have our voice be heard. To have our voice be validated by others.

And how often am I doing that for my family? Or rather, how often and I not doing that for my family? I know I can do a better job. And, although I know that I can not drop all distraction and give them my one hundred percent focus every single moment (there is a seven-month-old distraction after all), I can do a better job than what I'm doing right now. A much better job.

Instead of worrying about what I am saying, I need to open my ears to what others want me to hear. I need to Listen.

So today, and from now on, I'm going to be better about focusing on my husband and daughters when they are talking to me. I'm going to Listen when they want to talk, because what they are saying is important, and I want them to know that what they want to say to me I want to hear. Always.

My family is the most important thing to me, so why shouldn't they feel that way when they are talking with me.

Everyone wants to be heard. And I'm ready to listen.

xoxo, christine

She is the Light of our Year

It's the last day of the year, which, for many bloggers, brings about the whole "year in review" post. And while there are plenty of things about our year I could review, the highlight was, quite obviously, welcoming Nora May into our family.

The nine month wait for Nora was physically without incident, but excruciatingly full of fear and doubt and emotional ups and downs. She entered into our world with quick determination, bringing with her a peace and calmness to a family desperate to feel comfort after a broken heart. I know that I am a different mother with her than I was to either of the older girls, partially because she's the third baby I am parenting, but also because I am a different parent after losing her older brother. But even with the change in me this time around, the ease she has fit into our family comes from her alone.

Her smile is light and her wonder-filled eyes are joy. With her I have a new appreciation for sleepless nights, diaper blowouts, and afternoon fussiness, which wasn't the case with her older sisters. She is a one hundred percent perfect fit into my arms. She is our shining star out from darkness, but the wholeness she brings to our family is completely her own.

2014 has, in so many ways, been kinder and gentler to us than the previous year was. And I am incredibly grateful for that. Every year is filled with highs and lows, stresses and joys, comforts and sorrows. There have been hard days and easy days, and there are many more of those to come, but I am determined to look through it all with a positive perspective. I am content with the journey this past year has taken us on, and am looking forward to filling up our blank pages of the year ahead.

Wishing everyone shining lights of joy and silent quiet peace in the new year!

xoxo, christine

Make-Believe and Zoo and Being Together

This morning while Nora and I drifted in a out of sleep, snuggling on the bed and sporadically nursing, the older girls buzzed around the bedroom playing an elaborate make-believe something that involved setting up sleeping bags, pillows, phones, jewelry, and plastic food.

While they occasionally needed to be hushed, Nora was sleeping after all, they giggled and whispered and sometimes squealed with whatever stories they were weaving. Every so often a conversation would register with me, like when they were ordering their food from my pile of sweatshirts.

When we finally moved out of the bedroom and filled our tummies with food and, more importantly for me, coffee, new toys were taken out and animals were lined up on the floor so that we could all play Zoo together. Dolls Anna, Elsa, and their little sister Barbie (wearing Cinderella's dress) have been visiting the zoo every day for the past couple of days and apparently they were in need of several more visits today. The tigers wanted petting and the dogs were having a puppy, neither of which could be missed.

Of course the day was not without a few sister squabbles here and there. And I might have shouted once that the bickering needed to stop, but in all fairness that was before my daily dose of caffeine.

Having Hope home today felt like a gift to us all. I got to sleep in a little later than usual and Paige had her playmate available all day. Their morning request to watch TV was even delayed well into the afternoon, which I can only attribute to the two of them having each other to entertain and distract.

I have no idea what tomorrow will bring, if they will enjoy another day of having a sister to play with or if they will be needing a little space from each other, (or perhaps a little of both), but I can only stress (again) how grateful I feel to have all three girls home this week.

Looking forward to several more days of the chaos of three girls full day.

xoxo, christine

Simple Gifts

I'm supposed to be writing. Or at least, that was my intention when I got this time away while my mom is with the girls. Yet, here I am, almost two hours later and I am just starting. The problem with having internet connection anywhere is that it's easy to get distracted. Email, Facebook, Huffington Post, Christmas gift ideas... you get the idea.

There's Christmas music playing, which I suppose with Thanksgiving only next week, isn't too premature anymore. In fact, I just learned there are people who do all their shopping in November so that December can be devoted to fun and family. I have to admit, I pretty much love this idea. Getting all the shopping and shopping-related stress out of the way so that December can be the picturesque winter memory making I always envision? Yes please.

As it comes time to think about ideas for Christmas gifts (specifically for our kids) I find myself struggling every year. I desperately want to make sure my kids feel the magic and wonder and excitement of getting presents, because, well, they're kids, but I also am equally desperate for moderation and minimizing the things they are getting and what is coming into our house. I know that they can feel magic and wonder and excitement without having piles of things. Of course, it's not that I don't want them to get anything, but I don't want them to get everything. There is more to Christmas, much more, than getting new toys.

Every year it's a struggle to find balance between showing our kids what's really important during the holiday season, and making sure they feel like they were on Santa's Nice List.

I know of people who do four gifts: Something you want, something you need, something to wear, something to read. I also know people who only do three gifts because Jesus got three gifts (from the wise men). I love both these ideas, I'm just having a hard time figuring out what works best for our family and how to put it into practice.

And then, of course, I want to make sure each of the girls gets a gift for both sisters. Which is important to me because I want to emphasize giving to others, but adds several more "things" each child is getting.

And then I feel guilty that all this is stressing me out because this is not what Christmas is about! I shouldn't be spending time anxious about gift-giving stuff, I should spend it thinking up activities and memories to make and share with my family.

Which is why I just might adopt the idea of getting all my gift-buying done before December.

How about you? How do you decide Christmas gifts? And do you wait until December until you start? Or all you already done by Thanksgiving?

xoxo, christine

A Few of My Favorite Things

After recently writing about my difficulties with parenthood and grownuphood I feel compelled to document some of the things I love about being home with my family. Partially because I'm feeling guilty about my struggles, partially because I'm feeling kinda "meh" and I wonder if pointing out some happier things will get me out of my funk, and partially because I really do love being home with my kids and it's good to remind myself of that every now and then.

I love that I can spend part of the day snuggling a napping baby, her warm body tucked against my chest.

I love that I am (most likely) here to witness that wobbly first step, complete with wonder and bewilderment on the baby's face as she falls back to the ground.

I love that I am the one who gets Hope onto the bus in the morning, and am here to greet her when she comes home in the afternoon.

I love that I get to take them on adventures to the park, the zoo, the mall, or just a walk around the block.

I love that if I've had a particularly rough night, I can find a moment (or two) to nap the next day.

I love that if one of the girls is sick we don't have to worry about who will stay home and miss a day of work. I am the one who can provide cuddles and movies and sips of juice for an aching tummy.

I love that if an urge to bake arises, I can invite them into the kitchen with an afternoon of making a mess for the sake of goodies.

I love that if an appointment needs to be scheduled and attended, I am here and home and able to be a part of it.

I love that I get to hear the older girls when they're playing nicely together. That I get to witness some of the best of their imaginative games and make-believe.

I love that I get to listen to long-winded stories and baby coos and breathless accounts of school happenings.

I love that I am here to kiss boo-boos and shush fussiness and apply band-aids to scraped knees.

I love that I get to be home, even on the days that I don't love it.

And I always, always, love to be their Mommy.

xoxo, christine

An Apple a Day

So, Paige. The way to get an apple off the tree is to yank really hard like this, right?

No, Mommy! You twist and pull down gently. She scolds me as she delicately turns her wrist and lowering her hand. She has been practicing proper apple-picking technique for days.

There are some family adventures I imagine in my mind, some moments and scenarios that play out as a beautiful happy family movie montage. There are twinkling eyes and mouths grinning uncontrollably as inspirational music swells in the background. We are all glowing with joy as we twirl around with our faces lifted into the sun. It is perfection.

Most events, of course, don't actually play out the way I've scripted them in my mind. Some are better, some are worse, some just different. Taking the girls to the apple orchard started out a little rocky, making me wonder if it was going to be a flop, but things turned around quickly and ended as a heartwarming Family Classic. (In fact, I'm kind of hoping a pick-your-own-apple adventure can become an annual tradition for our family.)

The best part of our apple orchard outing was, by far, watching the girls dance up and down the rows of trees, enamored by the bright red fruits everywhere we turned. They were on a treasure hunt to find the perfect apples. We went home with our treasure glowing shades of red, yellow, even a little green, with aching legs, dusty shoes, and bellies full of sweet and tart apples.

Our movie moment was filled with magic. It had the exact right proportions of sweet apple aroma and sun streaming through thick branches and smiling faces to leave us walking away with the warm fuzzies of a feel-good classic.

xoxo, christine