past in picture: December 2009

Well, this picture pretty much speaks for itself.  Poor, poor Fletcher.  He was only 18 months old, and didn't quite get Santa yet.  He was so excited as we waited in line to see Santa, mostly catching the frenetic energy of the other children waiting around us.  And he smiled and waved at Santa, and even sat in Santa's lap readily.  But then I walked back to take the picture, turned around, and this is what I saw!  I know that some moms don't like these pictures, but I swear it was just this split second before I rescued him from Santa.  And I'm sorry, but I DO find it hilarious!!  And Fletcher is no worse for the wear.  He adores Santa Clause now and will happily sit in his lap to chat.  I feel like Santa is all the kiddos are talking about lately, so I thought of this picture. 

Do you have similar Santa pictures with your own littles?

pause

Hi friends.  It's been a week.  And it is only Thursday morning.  I think it has been made harder by the fact that Fletcher has shared his summer cold with the household.  And not to be dramatic or anything, but it's the worst. cold. ever.  I have the scratchiest of throats, and my head is threatening to explode from the sinus pressure.  Nope, that's not dramatic at all.  Like Brian says, I live in a hyperbolic chamber.

And then various things occurred yesterday that included dropping a knife on my foot.  Fletcher taking a flying nosedive on rough pavement.  There was much blood.  (No one got stitches yesterday- the bright spot!)  Rowan taking a minimal nap, and then waking up lots last night to just check in and let us know she's awaaaaake!  Brian got home from work after 10 pm.  Much later than the previous nights of 8:30 pm this week.  And all while I have the worst. cold. ever. 

So while I still can count my blessings instead of sheep at night, I'm not going to lie.  It's been a week.  And I honestly just need a break.  A break from being the only parent home between the hours of 5:30 am to 8:30 pm.  A break from flying knives.  A break from one of my favorite places: this here blog.  And just in time, Brian has a 4 day weekend!  See, a huge blessing to count.  But I'll be taking about a week off from here.  I need a recharge, and I always think I come back with a purpose when I do that.  (Right? right...?) 

I'll be spending time with my 3 favorites.  And some other family and friends, too.  It's going to be a great weekend to make up for a week of challenges. 

I hope you have a great weekend, too, friends.  If you celebrate Labor Day, then enjoy the long weekend!  And I'll see you back here next Thursday or so. 

*you can still find me hanging around here and here*

the truth

 

I've been wanting to write about this for a while now.  I get a lot of compliments from friends and strangers alike regarding the content of my blog.  Which is really really nice.  I like compliments!  But.  There is this undercurrent that comes with the compliments.  Like "I don't know how you find the time!" Or "You cook, do projects, AND you keep a garden?"  I can feel the general belief from friends that Brian and I have a perfect relationship, I always cook a gourmet dinner, and I am completely in touch with my children on all levels.  Well!  Let's dispel a few myths about this woman behind the blog. 

Blogging is this weird little universe where everyone puts their best foot forward and (usually) leaves the dregs of their lives away from view.  That sounds like it's not being truthful, or just being delusional, but it's not that for me.  When I started this blog, I made a few decisions.  I wanted my blog to be a happy place.  I didn't want it to be a place where I continually vent my frustrations in life.  I didn't want it to become a place that had a negative or downer vibe.  I decided to NEVER say anything negative about Brian on here.  I've read blogs that did all the things I just mentioned, and I just never went back. 

Don't get me wrong, I've definitely complained about life here and there.  Sometimes life is hard!  But I just did not want it to become a habit.  So I put hardships out there once in a great while, and then move on.  I personally think that works for my blog. 

So, let me tell you the truth.  I probably cook dinner 3 to 4 times a week.  And sometimes by "cook" I mean I make sandwiches.  Like I did for Brian when he got home last night.  The rest of the week we eat leftovers or we get take out.  That is the truth of my cooking.  I tend to cook more on the weekends while Brian is around to herd littles out of the kitchen. 

I have a babysitter that comes for 8 hours every week so that I can do a project here or there.  Or to go to the store all by myself.  Or to stare out the window for an hour.  Whatever I feel like.  I know this is a luxury.  And it's the only way I can actually work on a project around here.  So the thought that I juggle two toddlers while painting or embroidering or editing pictures is just false.  I get HELP for that.

Brian and I are not perfect.  We are lucky to have each other, and I believe we have a healthy relationship.  But we have our moments!  Brian always says I am so nice to him on my blog- I never say anything bad about him.  Well, there are times I probably could!  But how would that help anything?  Complaining about him in a space where he can't really defend himself seems really wrong.  So you guys see him in ONLY a good light.  And I like it like that.  He really is a good guy, so it's not like I'm keeping major skeletons in his closet here.  I'm talking about those small, every-day annoyances that you chat about with your best friend on the phone.  That kind of thing has no place here, in my opinion.

And as far as motherhood goes, well, I'm a work in progress.  I let the littles watch cartoons while eating breakfast.  I use disposable diapers on Rowan (gasp!  the environment!  I KNOW.).  I have yelled.  Lots.  Even though it never works.  I let them have non-organic, processed food snacks that sometimes contain sugar.  I often wish the babysitter was here.  I cry when they are being particularly beastly.  I sometimes watch a show on the ipad with my earbuds in while sitting on the floor playing with them.  Because they never. stop. asking. questions.  I could lie and say I love every second of being a mom, but I'm telling the truth here.  Being a mom is hands down the hardest thing I've ever done. 

So.  I just wanted you all to know life isn't perfect here.  And I'm not trying to portray myself as some clone of Martha Stewart.  I really enjoy doing the things I post about here, and I've just tried to find way to get them done and posted.  I'm not trying to portray my life as perfect.  It isn't.  Life is messy and hard with punctuations of joy.  My life is no exception.  I have a good, happy life, but it's far from perfect.  And I like it that way. 

parks and recreation

We are close to a lot of parks here, and really pretty university campus, so we took full advantage this past weekend.  We got out and explored.  The weather was nice, the leaves are looking pretty, and the littles were cooperative.  Everything came together! 

On Saturday we started at Clemson University.  They have a really pretty wildlife habitat.

Yes, that does say Do Not Feed Alligators.  That is weird to us Northerners.  Alligators don't hang out in our lakes up North. 

We took a little walk along the lake, and then went and fed ourselves and took naps in preparation for the fall festival that night.

We got to the festival just as the sun was setting, all ready to take a hay ride, walk the corn maze, and pet some farm animals.

The guy in the Army uniform entertained us on the tractor ride with animal noises.

He is not in the Army.  Some sort of militia group.  Welcome to the South!

First stop, the barn to look at the animals.  Rowan was enthralled with the pygmy goats.  They are pretty cute.

We mosied on over to the corn maze after that.  Where we lost Fletcher. 

A group of children came running through, laughing and playing, and Fletcher just ran after them.  I was behind Brian and thought he could see Fletcher ahead of him.  But I soon realized he was no longer in our line of sight.  I started getting that shrill mom voice and started yelling out "Fletcher, Fletcher where are you?  Fletcher, FLETCHER!!!!"  Panic set in.  I took Rowan and told Brian to run ahead and find him.  Brian, being totally unconcerned, mosied on to look for him.  He said afterwards that he could hear his voice the whole time.  That's fine.  But these mama's eyes have to see the littles to keep that panic at bay.  Turns out he was just heading on to the next event with the family full of children.  They didn't even notice the additional child.  And Fletcher was NOT happy when we told him that he had to stay with us.  Apparently he's ready to trade us in already.

After my heart started beating normally again, we had some more family fun!

How could she NOT be wanted with that smile?

And the biggest news of the weekend?  Rowan is FINALLY walking!!!  She's very pleased with herself, as you can see.  Fletcher continues to be unimpressed.  He keeps saying, "Look, I can walk too."  Like, no big deal, mom.  Everyone is doing it.  Let's stop the insane cheering for Rowan. 

And then after the sun set, we did what all responsible parents do with their toddlers at Halloween.  We took them on a walk in the haunted woods.  Yep, where teenage boys jump out at you with chain saws.  Yes, it was a gamble.  But they were both great!!  I usually pee my pants at these things, but I felt the need to control my urge to scream and run wildly away while I was holding my child.  Again, Fletcher was unimpressed.  I thought he'd be scared, but he was fine.

We took a look at the pumpkins before we left.  At this point, the littles were pretty tired.  Rowan just stood at the pumpkins staring of into space.

But then she perked up and started rolling over the pumpkins.

And then Brian tested my heart again by putting Fletcher up in this tree.  I played it cool, but I was secretly screaming on the inside.

We all went home and CRASHED.

The next evening, we went out to the State Park to feed the ducks and geese.

It's a beautiful, big park.  Only a ten minute drive, too! 

 We fed the geese and ducks.

 We looked cute.

 We flapped our wings like the ducks.

We fed the ducks and geese some more.

Did I mention we looked cute?

We had a great weekend, I actually handed the camera over to Brian once or twice, and we have new places to show visitors.  So who's coming to visit us next?

sharing

Our littles have a lot of toys.  A LOT.  It's a little ridiculous.  And we've made a greed monster out of Fletcher with his potty training prizes.  When you want your 3 year old to poop in the potty, you start promising the moon.  What?  You want a new expensive toy?  Well, poop in the potty and it's YOURS!!! 

So he started asking for more and more, because, uh, he could.  And I inwardly chastised myself and decided it was time to change gears here, and poop in the potty be damned.  I let Fletcher know that he was incredibly lucky to have wonderful toys because some boys and girls don't have ANY.

Fletcher: Where did their toys go?
Me: They never had any.
Fletcher: Do they have books?
Me: No, not even books.
Fletcher: What are their names?
Me: I don't know their names, but there are millions of children with no toys, no house, and not enough food to eat.

Well, that blew his mind.  He decided he wanted to take his toys directly to these kids, and show them how to play with toys.  Bless his lovely child heart.  He was sorely disappointed when I explained that we wouldn't be able to give toys to the children directly, but we'd be dropping them off somewhere and grown ups would make sure they got to the children.  So he started thinking about what toys he'd like to give up for these children.  Which made this mama happy. 

When he went to bed last night, I asked him if he had decided what he wanted to give the poor children. 

Fletcher: I want to give them my train table! 
Me: Really?  You want to give them your whole train table?
Fletcher: YES!
Me:  Ok, but I want you to know that when you give away your toys, you won't be getting them back.  It means the other children get to keep them and play with them forever.
Fletcher (thinking for a minute): Maybe we should give them some of Baby Rowan's toys.

Gotta love that line of logic!

But this kid?  He is still a keeper.  He shares pudding with his little sister, without any complaint.

He even lets her lick the spoon.

But he gets to lick the cup.

friday facts: details on how I alone can screw up my kids

Yes indeedy.  I spend the bulk of my time with my children.  For better or worse, this is a fact.  If I'm awake, I'm with at least one if not both of them.  Or it's after 8 pm and I'm falling asleep on the couch.  Buuuut, anywayyy... I'm bound to screw them up if I'm spending so much time with them!  My only hope is that it is as minimal as possible. 

My latest screw up involved talking Fletcher into going to sleep.  He is a typical boy who enjoys staying up to play as long as possible.  Never mind that he is so tired he can barely see straight.  He's going to stay up as long as possible and can find devious ways to procrastinate bedtime.  There is a phenomenon in our house where as soon as it is bedtime, Fletcher will begin playing quietly and sweetly.  It's like he KNOWS.  He must know.  Cause he's good.  But a few nights ago, he did not want to go to bed and was quite insistent on staying up. 

Cue my brilliant idea.  I thought telling him that fairies sprinkled sleepy dust on his bed would be a lovely little bedtime story that would ignite a magical imagination.  It seemed like a good idea at the time.
Mama:  But Fletcher! We have to go look and see the fairies that sprinkle sleepy dust on your bed!

Fletcher: Wha????  Bairies in my bed?
Mama: No, they just sprinkle the sleepy dust on your bed so you fall asleep!  Let's go look!!
Fletcher:  Okaaayyy....

Later, in the middle of the night, and every night since I told him this little fairy story, we hear him screaming:
"Noooo!  Get off me bairies, get off me!  Go away bairies, go away!!! Ouch, the bairies are getting me, Mama!  Mama!!!!!!"

Did I mention this is in the middle of the night?  Every night?  Yes, I know, I'm an awesome mom.  We're still working on convincing him that fairies do not actually exist.  Despite the fact that Mama said they did.  And what Mama says has to be true. 

Completely unrelated to this story is the fact that I made pizza last night.  Do you ever make homemade pizza and then become completely remorseful that you did not put on more cheese after it is made?

This happens to me EVERY time.  But Rowan still loved it.

She's a good eater, that one.

How do you screw up your children?  And do you now have more sympathy for your mothers?