Mid Week Sunny Days and Sick Kids

It is a beautiful day, the sun is shining, I feel the warmth through the window, the sun's rays casting a glare on the computer screen. A slight breeze sneaks through the open screen, filling the room with the scents of spring, green plants, flowering bushes, wet soil.

I have a baby sleeping in my lap, her head nestled into my chest. Aside from Saturday when she was sick, she hasn't napped on me for weeks (even months?) and I'm enjoying a little extra snuggling. The oldest girl is on the couch, home sick from school due to a middle-of-the-night puking episode, watching cartoons. As her silence turns into comments and questions and her still body starts to move and kick to the music playing from the television, I can tell she is starting to feel better.

The middle girl is currently at school, playing and learning and crafting. She is happy to be with her teachers and friends, but I know she is hoping her older sister feels well enough to do a little playing together when she gets home.

It is a quiet and relaxing kind of day, except for the noise coming from our basement. We've had a steady soundtrack of construction below us the past couple weeks while we get work done in our basement. It will be wonderful when it's done, especially the recessed lighting, but I won't mind when our house can be put back together.

But still, even with the sounds of nail guns and sawing under our feet, it is a peaceful moment. The color is returning to Hope's cheeks as Nora wakes up and wanders the living room and we prepare to pick up their sister. Hoping for more sunny days to follow, preferably with well children who can go out and enjoy the weather.

Happy Wednesday!

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

Which Crayon is Your Favorite?

Today my daughter brought home, "The Day the Crayons Quit" by Drew Dewalt.

There are so many great books out there, especially children's books, that choosing a favorite almost feels blasphemous. But, I definitely have some favorites. Many favorites. There are those that our family always enjoy and come back to again and again. And our list of favorites is always expanding.

"The Day the Crayons Quit" has most definitely been added to my list. In fact, we need to get it for our personal home library, I think. My first grader was so excited about reading this book she could hardly keep from spoiling the end. My preschooler laughed uncontrollably.

The premise is that when a little boy opens his crayon box, he finds letters from each of the crayons. Each crayon has a certain grievance he wants the young boy to address. You have to read this book. Adorable.

(My favorite is the peach crayon. Read it. You'll know why.)

I promise, you will not regret this book.

What are some of your favorites you're reading to your kids?

Image source

xoxo, christine


PS. I was in no way compensated for this post. These thoughts and enjoyment from this book are completely my own. I am just a mom with a love-affair of all books. Or at least, good books.

Already Four Months

Over the weekend, Nora became a four-month-old, and I just can't believe it. In some ways, I can't even remember what life was like before her -- like she's been here all along. But in other ways, it feels like she can't possibly be four months already -- she was "just" born!

Adjusting to life with a newborn/infant is never easy for us, but the change from two children to three has been significantly less difficult than when we went from one to two. Mostly I think it's because of the bigger age gap. The older girls are a lot more self-sufficient at six and four than Hope was as a two-year-old when Paige was born. That being said, four-year-olds and six-year-olds are still children with a lot of needs and there are moments I find myself completely overwhelmed with the neediness and noise of three voices at once.

But all the stress I feel vanishes when Nora gives her big sisters a big gummy smile. And after a middle of the night feeding when she's sleeping against my shoulder, I sniff in her baby head and life feels incredibly peaceful.

It is hard to imagine what our lives will look like as the girls get older. I can't picture having a ten-year-old, fourteen-year-old, and sixteen-year-old. I can't even picture having a two-year-old, six-year-old, and eight-year-old. But even though I can't imagine the future, I can see pretty clearly right now, and it is good. It is very good.

For as much as I find to complain about (hello snow and ice on November 10th, I am looking at YOU), I am feeling incredibly grateful right now. This family? This is my family. These three girls? These are my three girls.

It certainly has been an amazing four months.

xoxo, christine

I Be Crazy Up in Here

Clearly, I am not in my right mind because, this:

And yes, I let it happen. Paige (who, I remind you, is not even four) and I went to the mall. She just had to bring her money, all five dollars, so that she could buy something. Here I am thinking there's no way she's going to find something for five dollars. But she did.

A gigantic lollipop. (NOT a sucker, Mo-om, as I was told numerous times.)

I debated for probably ten seconds before deciding. What the hell, might as well let her get the color-dyed-cavity-stick. We set down a few ground rules (like that she does not get to eat the whole thing in one sitting, or even one day, for that matter) and it was done.

Of course, my favorite part was when she grabbed a second one to buy for her sister so that they both had one. My three-year-old used her own money for her sister, without me saying anything. (Heart. Melt.)

But yes, obviously I am in need of a break as clearly if I was I was in my right mind this would've never happened.

Looking forward to a calm afternoon ahead. (Yeah, right.)

xoxo, christine

In Need of a HAZMAT suit

It feels like Paige just got over an eon-long illness. Cough, runny nose, maybe getting better - nope just kidding, runny nose, cough, cough, cough. Somehow she managed to be sick from Thanksgiving until just a few weeks ago and oh-my-goodness she is finally sleeping through the night again.

But when you have more than one child, illnesses last infinitely longer, because even though Hope could have gotten Paige's cold anytime during those two months, she didn't. It wasn't until Paige was cough-free that Hope woke up with a killer cold, full-on faucet nose with red eyes and a nighttime cough.

We have actually been lucky because I thought that, with her first year of elementary school, numerous sick days and catching everybody's new germs were givens. But Hope has been relatively healthy and only missed her first day of school last week when she had a one day fever.

But the snot in this house, I tell you, we are need of about two hundred boxes of tissues just to keep up. I have been washing my hands so frequently I feel like a nurse, desperate to keep the germs as contained as possible. Preferable with the sick one, and not with me.

Alas it is a part of life, a part of winter life especially, these days and days of sniffly nose and deep congestion. Of course I am hoping I don't get sick. But I'm hoping even more that my husband doesn't get it. I'm already tired from nursing two sick children through this awful thing, I don't think I have the energy to nurse my third "baby" through this too.

***

Photos below from our week. As you can see I did not make it one photo per day, but at least I'm picking up my camera more now than I was a few months ago. {Baby steps}

 I peeked in my room after cleaning up the kitchen and this is what I found.

 Family "Lady Bug class" instructed by Hope.

 Dinner. Who needs a fork when you have perfectly good fingers?

One of my snow angels. She would play outside all day if she could.


xoxo, christine

The First Weekend

I was sad saying goodbye, even though I know it will only be two days until I see them again. But my heartstrings, they were still tugged, not so much for them, but for me.

I know they will be fine. In fact, I know they will have much for fun laughing and playing with their Grammy and Grampy and cousins than they would waking up early Sunday morning to hover in the cold, watching people run by, waiting for daddy for the ten seconds we might actually see him. I know Adam will have a better run without them there the night before keeping us awake, without them causing his sleep to be interrupted or lessened. And I know I will have an easier time, because there will be less to pack, less to take, less to worry about or watch for or take take care of.

But, oh, I miss them. This is the first time they've been away from both of us at the same time for more than one night.

I am a bit taken aback, because Mommy sure doesn't mind having some time out with friends, time to be distracted, to have a dinner out without worrying about two kids getting bored, to have a morning to sleep in with her husband. But I guess I'm also not surprised, because Mommy also misses them when they're away, even for one night. And this is two nights. Two whole nights.

We will all be fine. The girls will have fun. Adam will have fun. I will have fun. I know this. I know that when I pick them up I will feel excited and refreshed and even have some extra patience after a weekend apart. It is good things. It is all good things.

But still, I was sad saying goodbye.

xoxo,

Christine

It Was a Trip, Not Quite a Vacation

They say that taking a vacation with children is not actually a vacation.  It is a trip.  Vacation implies rest, relaxation, and renewal, and traveling with kids is pretty much anything but those.  You know, because everything with kids takes more time, more stuff, and more energy.  (The diapers, the toys to distract, the changes in schedules, the general disruption of normal, daily, quasi-easy life.)

All of this I think is true.  Our trip to New York was exactly that, a trip.  However, even though it wasn't a lot of R and R, the girls did so well, that I do feel a little bit renewed coming back.  You know, when I'm not so bummed out to be back.

Being away from home was so good for us.  I loved not having laundry to fold or cleaning to do.  And my absolute favorite was how my husband didn't have his usual To Do list hanging over his head and interfering with spending quality time together.  We all had no home (and Adam had no work) responsibilities to keep us from just Being.

Being in the moment.

Being together.

******

There is an energy to New York that I have never felt anywhere else.  And although I was worried about how our girls would be received in a city stereotyped for it's indifferent residents, I was pleasantly surprised to find that even some New Yorkers can't help but smile at my two little kids dancing down the street.

The pace is crazy fast, but also invigorating, and although I imagine living there could get exhausting, the vibe of New York City makes coming home to suburbia feel very... blah.  Of course, this could also be some post-trip blues.

(My blues are made worse by the photos from the trip.  Although I took almost 700 photos I did not get many quality ones, which has left me feeling even more inadequate and self-conscious as the novice photographer I am.)

Photography woes aside, it was a perfect first family trip out to visit my sister.  Made more perfect by her wedding, and so many close family friends all gathered together.

******

Look forward to at least one more post about the trip, detailing some of my favorite moments.

xoxo.
Christine

Leavin' On A Jet Plane

Even though I have been flying since before I was old enough to collect memories, I don't really like it.  I find myself always releasing a stiff breath as soon as the wheels hit the ground.  My body just barely relaxing as we taxi into the terminal.  My only requirement for flying is a good and long book because that is the way my mind can be distracted to avoid the anxieties swirling around.

I will still bring a book, but, this time, I imagine that there will be no time to escape into it.  There are two little girls who will be excited, anxious, and a whole bucket of emotions on their first airplane ride.  I am constantly thinking, thinking, thinking of the necessities for a successful trip with a two-year-old and four-year-old.

It is overwhelming, even though I know we can do it.  Even though I know we will do it.  Maybe it will be horrible.  But maybe it won't.

I've already promised my husband that we must say goodbye to the savvy journeyers we used to be.  My life-long goal (finally reached at my last solo visit out to my sister) of just using a large purse as my carry on, will now be a distant memory until we are retirees hopping from one continent to another.

No, we will most definitely be the annoying and s-l-o-w and harried family of four, juggling a stroller and car seat and carry-ons and two whining children, and avoiding the eye contact of all other passengers.  We will be those people.

And that's okay.  Because we are a family of four.  And it takes more to travel with small kids.  And we've never done it before.

It is nerve-wracking, and overwhelming... and exciting, and joyous.  The pounding of my heart, I can feel from my head to my toes.  The roller coaster riding my stomach is doing, will only get worse and worse until we are there.  But seeing my sister, taking the girls on an adventure, it is all so wonderful it makes me giggly.  Giddy.

Any pain from traveling the unknown, will be worth it.  That is something I feel from my head to my toes, too.

xoxo.
Christine

Some Day My Kids Will Fall Asleep Before Ten O'Clock, Maybe

The bedtimes over here are getting ridiculous.  Glennon Melton of Momastery, likened bedtime to the game Whack a Mole, and I can't think of a better analogy, except that we have one little mole who just keeps popping up over and over and over in the same place despite being bopped on the head (figuratively, of course) numerous times.  Our other little mole is stuck in her hole (thank goodness for cribs), but what she lacks in mobility she more than makes up for in volume.

It has been pretty ugly here.  We have tried bribery (hey, when it comes to Mama's down time at night, I'm not past promises of an extra book the next day), and threatening (not surprising it does not help her calm down and fall asleep when we take away stuffed animals or books), and pretty much everything in between.

We talk about bedtime during dinner and why it is so important for a body to get rest.  That it's okay to take awhile to fall asleep once in bed, but we need to stay in bed to give our bodies a chance to calm down and sleep.  That she will feel less tired and emotional (read: cranky) the more sleep she gets.

Last night was the first attempt at the Nanny 911 method.  A friend suggested what she'd seen on the show, just gently taking them back to bed over and over with no verbal exchange at all.  I can hardly say it was a success on the first night (although my husband's hope was renewed), but I certainly stayed more calm than I have on other nights.

Most of the time, before I even had a chance to lift her up and carry her, she would run back to her bed herself as soon as she saw me stand up.  Still, it was a little bit heartbreaking when she'd try to talk with me and ask me questions and I stayed silent.  Especially when she cried a little and told me, "You leave the room so fast!"

When I think about it, we deal with something like this once or twice a year.  Somehow, at some point, there is a major shift and bedtime almost feels impossible.  But I want Hope to have an easy bedtime.  And I want to have time to relax and unwind before they are finally asleep at ten o'clock at night.

I am struggling to find a balance between giving her reassurance and what she needs, and not letting her play me like a cheap little dollar-store instrument.

Tonight is night two of Operation Get This Girl To Stay In Her Bed.  May the sleeping fairies sprinkle a multitude of dreamy dust in the room at the end of the hall.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Bedtime is a bear, but she sure is a sweetheart.

xoxo.
Christine

Being Here

I am trying to open my eyes.  And keep them open.  Some days I am great, other days I stink.  Sometimes within the span of a day, or even hour, I am great and I stink and I'm everywhere in between.  It can be hard, especially in my moments of frustration and anger when my mind is telling me to calm down, relax, and it's not a big deal.  And even though I hear myself, even though I'm listening, the anger continues and I don't calm down and suddenly along with the frustration with the girls there is the frustration with myself.  Accompanied by a large helping of guilt.  Because I heard myself, I really did, so why did I yell and allow my emotions to escalate?

I know I am here, where I'm supposed to be, where I want to be.  This role is mine and I can own it or fight it.  I don't want to fight it.  So it is up to me to be happy, to be satisfied.  It is up to me to let go.  It is up to me to be the kind of mother and wife and person who is most important to me to be.

I can't stop thinking about the things that aren't important and the things that are.  Life.  What I find most important to pass on to my children.  And to remember that the coupons ripped up and scattered on the floor, and the driver who just cut me off, are not the important things.  Are never the important things.  I want to always remember that we are important.

I want to hold onto and squeeze my girls and my husband.  But it can be exhausting trying to always keep that, the feeling of enjoying every moment and letting go of the things that don't matter.  But I'm trying.  Because I want to keep my eyes open.

I want to see every smile and feel every kiss.  I want to be grateful for every snuggle and touch from little hands.  I want to feel lucky for every giggle, every tantrum, every stubborn moment, and every attitude.  Because at least that means they are here.  That I am here.

And here.  Right here.  Is where I want to be.

xo,
Christine


Linking up with Just Write.

Weddings, Airplanes, and Brown Paper Bags

My sister is getting married in less than two months.  I am so excited I have a hard time falling asleep at night.  Thoughts of flower girl dresses and wedding shoes slip between thoughts of what else we need to buy and pack.  (Yes, we have over a month and I am already thinking about packing.  That's how I roll.)

When I'm not occupied with images of clothes (the girls' and mine) and giddy with excitement to be in New York again, I have moments of panic.  You see, this three hour flight will be the first the girls will ride on a plane.  How in the world are we going to survive being confined in our seats on a loud and never-before-experienced airplane?  (And how in the world did my parents do it so frequently with my sister and me?)

While I am in the bed hyperventilating about the flight, Adam is next to me having nightmares about the wedding ceremony.  Because I am so honored to be my sister's matron of honor (even though I'm married I swear it sounds better to be the maid of honor), Adam will be stuck wrangling the two little flower girls who will most likely not be cooperating and sweetly walking down the aisle.  Also most likely not sitting quietly and ever-so-angelically through the matrimonial proceedings.

I'm sure that once we survive the flight (we will survive the flight, right?) my anxiety will transfer to the two-year-old's and four-year-old's behavior for the big wedding weekend.  (Because that's how I roll too.  What's next to worry about?  Got it.)  But I can't look that far ahead.  The flight anxiety is enough for now.

Mostly I'm happy to obsess about the details -- the clothes to buy, the toys (distractions) to bring, the fun to be had.  If you have any though, I sure wouldn't mind air travel tips with little ones.  Otherwise I'll just pack my brown paper bag.  You know, for breathing into as my children scream and cry and get us kicked off the plane.


xo,
Christine