The distribution of energy

The distribution of energy in our home is grossly imbalanced, especially in the last 16 weeks as my energy has been mostly consumed by growing our third Studerbaby.

only 16 weeks, but my bump suggests 20+.  bleh, #thirdpregnancyproblems

Maybe it's been the dramatically shifting weather these past two weeks, but the distribution has seemed even more unfair - today especially.  I have been meaning to go through the kids' shoes for weeks now as Gem still has 2 sizes too small shoes out and about down here

...my dining room table hasn't seen the light of day in weeks (..months maybe!?) covered in random items of things that belong upstairs or in the garage or have yet to have a home yet.

...and this past Friday while I was hurrying out the door with the two kids in tow to pick up a couple things at the store, I thankfully caught sight of myself in the mirror and audibly gasped.  "When was the last time I had a proper shower?"  Oh God, seriously, when?  There was no explaining to the kids at that point that we couldn't leave the house as they were already wearing shoes and trying to put their coats on.  Ugh, that last stretch to get out the door is some of the worst parts of the day - there was no turning back now.  And I kid you not, my friends, in that moment I was grateful for Walmart because at that moment - with two cranky kids and greasy hair, and yoga pants - I knew I would be accepted without a second glance.  It was not one of my finest moments.

Bud leaves in the early morning for work all day, I spend my day chasing these two among other tasks that allow us to maintain health, financial legality, and ya know, general living.  B gets home from work - we smile and speak in glances while we endure a dinner of unbelievable noise - how does so much noise and sounds come from two small humans? - and then say goodnight to each other as we each put a child to bed.  Because do you know what happens at 9pm?  WE FALL ASLEEP before the kids in their rooms.  For probably a solid 2 months, this has been happening.  Whoever wakes up at approximately 1am, will rouse the other and drag their nearly lifeless body into our own bed until we wake up to do it again.

It is the blur.  We are so deep in the blur; it's not even funny.

they're everywhere.  and with more mess usually.

There are good times too, obviously - moments of beautiful love.  Flickers of amazing, magical strings of light.

And then most of the rest of the day; we're trying to STAY AWAKE and remember what the hell it was that we were just doing.  And also trying to talk ourselves into completing a scarily daunting task, like I don't know, say vacuuming the upstairs or baking Easter cookies.

Let's get back to that energy distribution though, eh?
Mathematically and scientifically speaking - taking my very best guess and looking at all the observable data - I'm figuring the distribution of wealth energy (although same difference at this point) to look something like this:

Human Energy Distribution at Team Studer:
Greyson:  45%
Gemma:   35%
StuderBaby #3 (sucking from mother):  10%
Daddy: 6%
Mumma:  a measly 4%

This is currently what is happening right now:

lava floor and couch cushions as it's only 35 degrees outside.

But why don't I just turn on a movie, right?  As tempting as that is right now, I know that if they don't have tv after 5pm it means less difficult and earlier bedtimes.  And right now, sanity feels less important than putting the kids to bed and spending time with Brandon in silence and non-moving distractions.

If only I could guarantee I'll be awake for it tonight.
it's not looking so good, friends.

Bigfoot & Us

While growing up, I always dreamed of becoming a mom and raising little kids.  I'd try to imagine what their sweet faces would look like and even blissfully daydreamed about their sticky little hands and how giggling and tiny feet would fill my future home with happiness.  But no matter how much you try to imagine the future; I know now that it is almost never like you thought it would be.

For example how I could not have guessed my current daily interaction with all things related to Bigfoot.

Every.single.day we talk about Bigfoot in our house.

Sometimes we tell stories that involve Bigfoot, we seek out shows and kids' movies that include Bigfoot  (or anything close to him - there's more than you imagine:  Judy Moody and the Not Bummer Summer, Scooby Doo), we ask the Librarian for books about Bigfoot, or we pretend we are Bigfoot.

It is all about Bigfoot over here.

It started a few months ago.  Grey was watching a prank show with his Aunt (hi, Uch!) and someone in a Bigfoot costume was getting ready to scare his friend.  The show started feeling especially spooky, so Uch changed the channel before the reveal that it was all just a joke.  Which was actually turned out to be more scary than just watching the whole thing.  oops.

So for a few weeks, Bigfoot was really scary.  After lots of talking, stories, and reassuring, Bigfoot started to change from scary to fascinating. And because we just kept talking about it, now Bigfoot is a full fledged family friend.  Even Gem knows and speaks about BigFoot now and when she hears a noise outside, she says, "Bigfoot outside?"

So I spend my days making up little stories about Bigfoot, and pretending to be Bigfoot, and wondering aloud what BigFoot might be doing at any given moment.

How strange the path of motherhood is, no?

10 Real Physical Dangers of Raising Toddlers

Everyone knows that the biggest danger of parenting any child is a broken heart.  Like smashed into smithereens broken heart.  And for lots of things.  Seeing your child in pain, listening to them cry it out, hearing them whisper "I love you" as their heavy sleepy eyes close.  Oh my, there's just so much that breaks and tears and shreds and stabs a parent's heart.

But not many people talk about the other kinds of pain that come with parenting kids, mainly toddlers.  These little beings that spend their day blurring the line between the distinction of human child and animal.  They have little control over their limbs, almost no depth perception, but somehow can orchestrate a mess that even if you were trying your very best, you as a grown adult with knowledge of trajectory and science, could not replicate to be as catastrophic.

So here's my top 10 of the physical pains we've endured as raising our toddlers.  The nose bleeds, the fat lips, and the bruises in the shape of a tiny mandible all included below.

1. Hair-pulling
It starts out in infancy out of sweet, precious curiosity.  It continues from there but with less wonder and more out of sheer disregard for anyone else's body.  I've had hair pulled by hands, teeth, and stepped on by feet.  And this is not just localized to head hair.  We have our arm hair pulled both by accident and on purpose.  My husband has also suffered through leg and chest hair pulling as well.

2. Biting
We've both been bit by accident when putting food into our little one's mouths, as they didn't realize (or care) if our fingers were out of the way before they chomped down.  Then as our daughter grew, we discovered she was a 'biter,' and would target shoulders when she didn't get her way.  Our poor son was once bit so hard on the stomach (after a disagreement with his little sis) that it immediately bruised a deep color of purple.  Thankfully she's seemed to grow out of it and now only grinds her teeth like an angry lioness at the first sign of conflict as a reminder to us all of the danger we could be in.

3. Stomach pummeling
This is Hollywood's go-to move for child on parent abuse.  You know the image; parents peacefully asleep while children sneak in and go full WWE on their parent's unprotected midsections.  It looks so idyllic, doesn't it?  This sort of stomach pummeling doesn't only happen in the morning before waking - it also happens anytime you find yourself in the horizontal position.  They'll sneak up on your unsuspecting relaxed pose, stand on the couch armrest, and take a flying leap directly landing on your gut (or worse - see #10).

4. Book corners to the face
This is a phenomenon that I can't explain.  The accuracy in which picture book corners with hard covers have barreled into my face is mind-blowing.  I am thrilled my children love listening to stories, but in the sheer delight of hearing another story, these books are strongly suggested with a shove in our direction with horrifying speed.  Somehow after a book corner makes contact with my face, I'm ashamed to say, my character voices just aren't up to par.

5. Head butts to the lip
In their defense, this is almost always by accident, but goodness does it hurt.  The forcefully thrown back head usually occurs from a child's extreme happiness or excitement, in which they throw their head back with joyful giggling only to make a direct contact with your unsuspecting face.  The vast array of strange unfunny things that cause a child to do this is wide and diverse - which gives it the constant element of surprise.

6. Disease
Our flu season lasts from October to April in our house.  We spend these months with tissues and hankies within constant reach.  If one of us catches something, the rest are sitting ducks.  We like to try to timeline our sicknesses; like Mum is 4 days in while our youngest is a day behind, our son just got it, and well, sorry Dad, you're the next in line.'

7. Shoulder dislocation (or at least soreness)
There is a scientific equation that I've discovered since becoming parent.  It's goes something along the lines of:  item that child is holding in backseat will always be dropped thus being the catalyst to insistent whining until said item is retrieved.  This requires a parenting move where the parent (driving a moving vehicle!) then rotates their shoulder to an unpleasant position to flail about aimlessly on the backseat floor to attempt to retrieve the fallen item.

8. Assault by feet
First, there's the kicking; during the diaper change, or when trying to remove themselves from a hug they've deemed too long, and the ever popular no warning direct kick to the shin in a drive-by sprint around the room.  There's also the stomping on various body parts by accident or entirely on purpose depending on their mood.

9. Lower back pain
It's the up-down-up-down-up-down-hold you motion throughout the day.  It's the two kids on your lap while reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar for the fourth time in a row.  It's the sitting next to the toddler bed for 45 minutes rubbing their back when they're sick.  The kneeling and reaching at the edge of the bath tub.  It's the always needing more yoga and more time at the chiropractor.

10. Crotch shots
The problem with an adult crotch is that it is almost exactly eye level to a growing toddler.  It's like an impossibly easy target for punching from a child's point of view.  It also always warrants a dramatic response which makes it even more hilarious.  There's the standing assault, but also the flying from across the bed/room/couch to land with dangerous accuracy directly in the nether-regions.  It's like a pain magnet; look no farther than every.single.episode of America's Funniest Videos; without fail there are videos of children punching their Dads in the crotch.

Somehow though, as is the great paradox of parenthood, none of this pain or suffering ever amounts to much of anything.  It is all swept under the rug with the bat of an impossibly long eyelash or the surprise kiss of a tiny, sweet face.  Like all parents, I'd choose the beatings every time over the alternative of not living with these wild, maniacal, perfect, toddler ninjas.

the Coach's Wife

We have made it to the last game of our daddy's very first season as varsity boy's basketball coach at Valley.  It has been a learning experience and adjustment period for our whole family over the course of these last few months.  When B took the job this past summer, we were so excited.  Lots of people congratulated us, more told us we were crazy, and a few gave us a sarcastic 'good luck!' We knew to expect long winter days while Dad put in a full day at work and then the rest of his evening at practice or a game.  But there were lots of unexpected surprises that came with the season too.

This was the first year in five years of marriage that we had to set up a fake Christmas tree because we just could not squeeze in the time to go get a real one between work, practice, and games.  We daily adjusted dinner time, and bedtime so that we could eat together as a family.  Over the months of basketball season, I spent two to three evenings a week, wrestling my preschooler and toddler head to toe in winter gear and getting all of us in the truck to drive to home and away games, at least 20 minutes away.

Our kids learned lots of new things.  Like how to stand silently and respectfully for the National Anthem - which is now sung before nearly every time we play basketball at home.  We learned how to wait patiently until the game is over before we get to talk to Daddy and how to find ways to entertain ourselves during 32+ minutes of game time.  Greyson learned new words and phrases like; foul shot, box out, hustle, and 'Drain It!'  Gemmi happily shouts out 'Go Blue Jays!' and copies the cheerleaders' hand motions.

There were moments that will be held in my memory as 'Daddy's first Coaching season.'  Like, after the first win, when the kids and I picked up Chinese take-out and surprised Daddy with a late night celebration when he got home.  Like the several actual fights with Grey about letting me wash his 'basketball clothes' after he wore them for four days in a row (not even wanting to take them off for bed).  At the Portage away game when the kids put on a legit dance presentation at half time.  It was being the very last people to leave the gym at home games; walking the length of the parking lot to brush off our car and praying the kids would fall asleep on the ride home.  It was the feeling of relief at the sight of family and friends in the stands when arriving to the games with my two gremlins.  (thank you so much Gigi, Pappy, Mimi, Abba, Chum, Uch, Rebecca Hagerich, Jordan Heider, Stacy, Corey & Lila Stahl, Uncle Juice, Jonny, Ninna, Kuma, Morgan, Ricky & Wendy Stahl, Barb & Jess Verno, Beth Furman, and Paula & Maddie McCleester for spending time with my kids during basketball season).

Although, the biggest lesson we learned this first basketball season is that this is not just something that Daddy does.  Caring about the Blue Jays is serious family business.  We eat, talk, and sleep basketball.

Most of the conversations I have with my husband are about his team, upcoming games, strategies, and issues.  I hear him laugh about the funny, immature jokes his players tell at practice and see the to-the-bone-marrow pride when he speaks about the team.  I know the players' names, knicknames, and tendencies; who has surprised him, who has inspired him to work harder and see things from a new angle, who has changed over the course of the season.  There is a light in him that comes from being with his team and assistant coach that wasn't there before, and for that, I am deeply grateful to the Blue Jays.

photo credit:  Christa Statler

It's a funny thing to be on this side of athletics.  Brandon and I have been athletes all the way from childhood to college.  We know what it is like to be a player; to stand again after a brutal loss, to be filled up with hot pride at a victory hard won.  We are both quick to point to sports as being a main contributor to the way we do things as adults.  How we bounce back from disappointments, how we recognize an opportunity to learn, how we cheer on colleagues and friends - as we know a win for them, is in turn a win for us as well.  This is the stuff of character building.  So it is no surprise (least of all to me), that my husband takes this very seriously.

photo credit:  Christa Statler

The only information that I can offer about my husband's daily coaching choices is this:  my husband is invested in each of his players. That's it; he is invested.  He cares about the W, but more than that, he cares about  the men his players will be in five years; in ten years.  He's coaching them to get back up from a 60 point loss (the first game of the season) and try again.  He wants them to later in life be able to push all the way to the end even if you're down and fans start leaving the gym early, because you know what - you can win in overtime (Meyersdale game).  He wants for them to make the connection that the way they interact and speak to their teammates, the refs, the other coaches, the fans, and their teachers is a reflection of not only of themselves but everyone associated with them; their family, their teammates, their coach, their community.  It is more than basketball.  It has always been more than basketball to him.

Before taking the job, someone trying to dissuade him said, 'Remember, you have two little ones of your own at home to guide too.'  What that person may not have realized is that my kids get the privilege of seeing first hand what it means to follow a dream.  That there may almost never be a 'good time' in life to take on a challenge, but if you care enough about it - you can find a way to make it work.

photo credit: Christa Statler

And even more; something I see so clearly now, my two kids spend their days talking about and trying to emulate an entire team worth of teenagers that they may not have known otherwise.  If these boys, The Blue Jays, are the role models that my children try to copy - then I am considering myself a very lucky mother.

Good luck tonight, fellas.  You will always be considered part of our Blue Jay family.

photo credit:  Christa Statler

love,
the coach's wife.

Mumma

mumma.

it is who i am.

most days it feels like it is only and all of who i am.

all other parts, fragments, glimmers of any other who i might have been

obliterated by the mumma.

mumma, mumma, mumma.

it's the sippy cup that needs refilled.

it's the booboo that needs kissed.

the face that needs wiped.

the butt that needs wiped.

the counter that needs wiped.

so much wiping.

it's the meals that need made.

the meals that require begging, bribing, negotiating, please just eat what i made this one time.

it's the timeout, the separating of siblings, the dearLordpleasehelpmefindpatience whispered through clenched teeth

it's the hold you, hold you, hold you.

it's the worry, the running to do list, the flash of panic of why is it so quiet

it's finding my daughter with aquaphor on every inch of her body

it's finding my son stuck on the top shelf of the pantry

it's constantly asking to no one in particular, how?  why?

it's guilt for choosing a shower over alone time with the big one

it's guilt for letting the little one cry herself to nap

it's the up, down, up, down, up, down at the dinner table 

it's do you have to go potty asked for the 12th time today and it's only 10am

it's the early morning rise just to have a small window of silence

it's the worry running through my head at night, are they covered up and warm? what are we doing for lunch tomorrow? remember to call the doctor to schedule the well check-up

it's looking around the house and wondering aloud if it will ever be clean:  the ever fingerprinted mirrors, the crumbs in couch cushions, the single socks with no matches

where do all the socks go?

mumma.

it is who i am.

and sometimes it feels like it is all i've ever wanted to be.

all other parts, fragments, glimmers of any other who i ever was

magnified and glistening by the mumma.

mumma, mumma, mumma.

the kisses, the snugs, the full child body weight around my neck.

the glimpses that belong only to me to test the waters on an unfamiliar choice.

the i love you.

i love you, mumma.  i love you.

it's finding the moon in the night sky and telling it goodnight

it's puzzles of farm scenes completed followed by high fives and ripping it up joyfully

it's smiling in recognition as my child feebly tries to sing the song from Wallykazam in the car

it's hearing the words otherwise, actually, and solution being used correctly out of the mouth of a preschooler 

it's the hold you, hold you, hold you.

it's feeling pride and tearful joy at the sight of a legible letter in shaky 3year old print on a piece of construction paper

it's the burst of laughter that bubbles up from a place of slapstick comedy you almost forgot existed when your 2year old discovers that she should swallow a mouth full of water before trying to talk

it's finding your children huddled up under a blanket together reading books peacefully

the thanks mum! you're the best ever! for offering the smallest of gifts: a new snack, a once misplaced toy, a chance to lick the cookie spoon.

it's the blissful peace that comes with watching a child fall asleep in your arms.

the fulfilling sense of triumph when both kids ask for seconds at dinnertime

it's looking around the house and realizing that there would be no mistaking it for one that children did not occupy; the crafts on the fridge, the legos under the couch, the snacks in the cupboard.

our home screams:  children live here!  This is a home lived in.

very very deeply lived in.

mumma.

it's a thick layer of frosting covering the entire cake; the part that children scrape off and devour hungrily only to leave the crumbling naked cake dejected on the plate.

it slips down into hairline fractures

it is in every dark corner, out every window

i find it in hidden in unexpected places

it is the scale on which all of life is weighed and balanced

it is not the fork in the road, rather the shoes that i wear

shoes that i trust and have worn in - so much so that i forget they aren't actually just part of my feet

mumma.

how we spend our days

I have mentioned before that one of my favorite blogs to read is by Lindsay Mead over at A Design so Vast.  Her style of writing and her topics almost always inspire me and leave me sitting breathless and chilled to the bone.  She recently wrote The prism through which all of life is seen and I have not been able to stop thinking about it since reading it a few days ago.  This weekend, she posted about a writing group she was involved in over at Catching Days in the monthly series entitled How we spend our days.  Lindsay's involvement in the series was my first introduction to not only the monthly posts, but also to the quote by Annie Dillard that inspired the series in the first place.

"How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives."  - Annie Dillard in The Writing Life

It has been a rough past week; I'm attempting to recover from a sinus cold that has lasted more than five days while my children have been healthy and full of pent-up winter energy during days that dipped down into the negatives.  And then reading those words yesterday, was a small chip in the windshield in front of my face.  The spider cracks spread across the entire length and it feels as though the dingy windshield has shattered and I can see clearly for the moment.  Because if I'm being honest with myself, how I spend my days; and thus my life, is so beautifully blessed it is almost painful to look at straight on.

I spend a great deal of the day caring for my home and family.  Cleaning, picking up, washing, drying, loading, folding, wiping down, finding things that are lost, answering the question 'why?,' re-organizing, cooking meals, cutting up into bite-size pieces, texting Brandon, finding patience to wait for a toddler to put on her own jacket as she shouts, 'I do!,' rubbing backs, kissing booboos, filling dog dishes, sweeping, logging the grocery list, laughing at toddler jokes that have no punchlines, scraping unrecognizable pieces of gunk off of unfathomable places thinking, "What is this and how long has it been here?"

A portion much longer than I wish, is spent looking at a screen; paying bills, reading articles, watching videos, checking social media, working on The Hunting Daddies, writing on the blog or working on my novel, helping kids trace letters or feed food to monsters, locating an episode of Team Umizoomi, reading a recipe, and then subsequently googling 'substitute for sour cream.'

Reflecting on the Dillard quote has surged up a desire in me to actually spend more time in my days doing the things I want my life to be spent doing.  Things like writing - although I spend a very big part of my day thinking about writing - exercising, mediating, reading actual grown up books (instead of online articles and children's picture books), and catching up with loved ones in ways that are more varied than a short phone call punctuated by my kids yelling in the background.

The quote has also shed a light in my heart to appreciate and realize that there is no part of my day; and thus life, that I spend worrying about my physical safety or the safety of those that I love.  In no part of my day do I have to struggle to find food or warmth for myself or my family.  Very rarely do I spend time administering medication or waiting for a doctor's visit for questions answered.  At no time do I have to wonder if any given place will be able to accommodate my family's needs; my entire family is blessed as we all can physically, mentally, and socially adjust to any given place and it's restrictions.  These are things that mothers worldwide spend portions of their day doing, as I carry on not even considering it.

But the spider crack that actually caused the whole window to shatter was the realization that the very greatest portion of my day, the thing I do while I also do all of the things listed above - is holding my children.  Children in my laps while I eat, lounge, rock to sleep.  Children in my arms while I balance two sippy cups and a bowl of snacks.  Picking children up and putting them down in various locations; the countertop, the time-out chair, the bath, their car seat.  Answering with extended arms, the small-voiced requests of 'hold you.' All day long, my babies are either in my arms or on my lap.

At the end of time, I hope the way I have spent my life will be measured by the weight of my children in my arms.

10 simple things you should do before your first baby...because you still can and should

One of my very best friends on the whole wide Earth is getting ready to have her first baby (due in February!) Our other BFF and I drove down to see her a few weeks ago for a weekend full of girl time and baby shower and lounging.  It was bliss.  Well, at least for the two of us that were already Mums.  Because we didn't have our kids with us for two whole days (!)  Because even though we missed our kids' cherubic faces and sticky hands; we were also massively grateful for a little time to be a grown up woman without any boogies to wipe.

We offered up all sorts of stories for our best friend to try to help ease her fears and charge up her excitement about that new little bundle that none of us can wait to meet.  We told stories that were funny, gross, sad, scary, and emotional.  We laughed about how poop will soon become a regular dinner topic in their house and marveled at how clean everything was (and smelled!).  But it's hard to talk about babies and being a Mum to someone who is not quite a Mum to be a born child without barely walking the line between sounding really awful but also attempting honesty.

So, instead of trying to explain how it will be once that sweet child arrives, here is a list of 10 simple things you should do before your first baby.  Because you still can and you should.  These are things, that in the thick of motherhood, they are the simple everyday luxuries I occasionally miss from my pre-Mum days.  Let me clarify:  Miss them? -yes. Would I ever trade my life now for that former life? -not in a million freaking years.  'Tis the oxymoronic way of motherhood.

1. Go on a spontaneous trip.
It does not have to be extravagant; go to the mall or for a walk or out to see a movie.  The point being; just announce the trip and then walk.out.the.door.  It will not be that easy soon - getting out the door to go somewhere will very soon be matched in your mind with something as daunting as climbing Everest. A large 'to-grab' checklist, the equipment, the schedule, the food rations, the coaxing and justifying.  I wish I was kidding.

2.  Enjoy a very long dinner.
Sit at the table, speak to another grown up, eat your own food off of your own plate, and don't get up until the dinner is completely over.  One of my good momma friends said once that she can't remember the last time she ate a whole meal before it got cold.  It will soon be up-and-down for your meal as you refill drinks, mop up spills, and change diapers.  At our house, we call our children 'the seagulls' since we can't eat without sharing unless we hide out in the pantry...which we aren't ashamed to admit - we've done.

3. Watch an R-rated movie whenever you want.
Whatever kind of R floats your boat - the violence, cursing, or 'relations' kind.  Or a mix of all three?  Watch it now, because soon you will become rose-cheeked at the sight of a commercial that walks the line on the wrong side of PG-13 in front of your child.  TV shows that you used to enjoy will feel exponentially more violent - news broadcasts included.  And to stay up late to catch the flicks after baby falls asleep? - HAH!  sleep will very quickly replace any interest in staying current in pop culture over catching some shut eye.

4. Spend an extraordinary amount of time on personal hygiene.
Take a long hot shower or bath; go get a mani and pedi; blow dry your hair; wear dangling earrings; get a massage.  Focus on feeling and looking beautiful.  It's not that you won't after the baby comes, it's just that we, Mums, suffer from horrible cases of what is referred to as 'Mom-guilt.'  It's like, you know you'd feel better if you had a shower more than once every three days - but when the decision comes down to either showering, washing those dishes that have been in the sink for two days, or sleeping while the baby's napping...it's rarely showering that wins (and almost never the dishes).

5. Brush up on your nursery rhymes.
It will startle and delight you at how much just the sound of your voice soothes your new baby.  Little made-up songs have always been my favorite and a joy to sing to my babies as we giggle and play together.  But of course, there are times when you are too tired or too frustrated to pull together anything that sounds like a tune.  Recall some of the nursery rhymes from childhood (do kids learn these anymore?) Have them ready for long car rides or late nights or while roaming the grocery store aisles.  I have found that my favorites are those that are long and repetitious like:  This Old Man, The Ants Go Marching, Five in the Bed, and Old McDonald (although this one is exhausting to sing).

6. Do one non-baby related task that you've been meaning to get done
In the weeks prior to the arrival of the babe, it's been all baby-baby-baby, yea?  Now's a good time to get some non-baby things done, because once the baby arrives, it really will be all baby-baby-baby.  So file and shred that paperwork that's been piling up, make some freezer meals, or vacuum behind the couches.  Your future tired self will thank you.

7. Make some calls.
 Catch up with friends and family over the phone and talk as long or as little as you like.  There may be a brief period of time after the baby is born that you'll go into survival mode and ration your waking time to tasks that absolutely need accomplished (things like eating and using the bathroom).  It's horribly sad that things like talking on the phone just to chat somehow tend to fall into the category of 'not generally an efficient use of limited time.'  No harm, no foul though - we've all been there.

8. Spend an entire weekend just relaxing.
With the Prepare-For-Baby To Do List probably still quite long, it may feel like taking a weekend to do nothing does not seem like a great idea.  But know this, Relaxing SHOULD BE on your to do list.  This is soul-battery charging, so write it down on the list if you must!  Sleep in, lounge about, watch movies, and don't clean, assemble, or worry about anything besides what snacks you'll be eating every few hours.  Just take it easy and run on your own schedule.

9. Write a letter to yourself.
Write about how excited you are to meet your little one.  Write about how you feel (nervous? excited? anxious? elated?) to be standing at the precipice of a new adventure.  Write about the things you hope you'll do together and learn from each other.  Write about all the things you think you'll love about your new life and all the things you love about your current one.  Write with your voice and tone; the voice of a Mum-to-be full of excitement and nerves about the unknown.  In a few months, this voice will be refreshing and nostalgic to you; to see yourself through the eyes of a former childless version of you.  You will never be this exact same person again, it will be nice to have her thoughts and words.

10.  Look in the mirror and say aloud, "There is no one better for this job."
Because it's true.  No one will love your baby like you will.  Motherhood will be both infinitely better and worse than you ever imagined.  Let those words sink in; deep into your bones, that You are this best person for this; amazingly and incredibly so.  Only you.



Maybe this list is frightening and comes off sounding like your life as a new mom will be downright awful.  Let me assure you, it will not be.  It will however be very, very different than your life right now.  And mostly, the different bits will be so beautiful and full of love that you'll find yourself truly wondering how you never realized before that something had been missing all along; or someone, rather.

After your sweet baby arrives, you'll still be able to do all of these things listed here, but usually not without a great deal of planning and a minimal amount of guilt.  Because, the truth is, you will be hard-pressed to think of anything more valuable than seeing a toothless grin on that little slobbery ball of love or snuggling up to listen closely to those soft, sweet-smelling breaths.

I'm not the first to tell you, and certainly not the last to proclaim it - but there is nothing that can be said about being a Mum that can give you the real picture of what it will be like except to say:

It will be hard, but you'll never ever regret it.

my life currently - by the 5 senses

taste

coffee

hot dogs and mac&cheese

vanilla yogurt

smell

stagnant but yet somehow wonderfully beautiful child morning breath

dog farts

the best smell on Earth; Brandon's neck

hear

"hold you"

"Mum!"

the kids giggling

touch

the feel of worn carpet on my cheek from laying on the floor (to wait for a child to fall asleep in her bed, while pretending to be a sleeping monster before jumping up to chase the kids, after dramatically falling to the floor during wrestling-basketball)

her fine hair while brushing it across her forehead or back from her face

his heavy body barreling into me for a hug, a tackle, or to be carried

sight

the two kids on the breakfast table bench framed with our backyard and our mountain view out the window

his shadow in our bedroom doorway in the middle of the night

her face; nose to nose with mine

Winter Driving Advisory from a Mom

An Open Letter to Social Media updaters who complain about slow drivers in winter weather conditions:

Hi.
It's winter and 'tis the season to read posts that you publicly shame cautious winter drivers.  I get it.  It's what is socially acceptable to do now - immediately run to social media to see how many high fives we can harness by poking fun at someone that caused a blip of annoyance in our day.  I guess I get it.

But I also know that you may very well be making fun of me.  I might have been that cautious driver who's tail you rode for 15 minutes because what you don't realize in your moment of driving impatience is that I have two little humans in my backseat.  One that is crabby because she needs a nap and another who has asked incessantly if he can have a snack and watch Bubble Guppies when we get home.  And by incessantly, I mean 36 times in a row.  We've been listening to this same Johnny Cash song on repeat for the last 25 minutes because it's the only thing that keeps my daughter from whining.  Honestly, just like you, I really just want to get home too.

But I also have a deep worry in my heart, because no matter how distracting or annoying my two kids are in this moment, I also know that sort of the biggest point of being a Mom is try to keep my little humans safe.  So if that means driving overly cautious when there is snow and possible ice on the road, then I sincerely apologize for the moment of road rage I have sparked in you today.

However, please know that as you blow by me at your first chance of passing; speeding by with confidence and a proud sense of invincibility, I send out a small wish to the universe to keep you safe until you arrive at your destination.  'Please let them get there, at least for their mother's sake.'  Because you see, I can't watch you zoom by without imagining that my own children will be just like you someday.  And as your cellphone buzzes with a text from your own mother asking, "Did you get there yet?  Please text when you do," know too, that I am hoping for the same.

Perhaps the next time you come up behind a cautious driver in inclement weather, you will imagine it is me with my two cranky kids that I love more than my own self.  And in place of frustration or annoyance, you can send out a small wish for that nervous driver and their precious cargo to safely arrive home instead.

Love,
a Mum and her two little gremlins.

10 Awesome (but rarely mentioned) things about being a Mom

1. Better Snacks
Once you have kids that eat real food,  you suddenly find your pantry, freezer, and snack cabinets filled with food from yesteryear.  Our best friend was staying with us a few weeks ago and it was never more obvious that we now have great snacks as he announced in happy surprise, "What?! You have Pringles and String Cheese?"  With kids, our house is generally fully stocked with cookies, assorted berries and fruit, and mini muffins.  And everyone thinks you're a 'great mom' for baking cookies with the kids regularly...um, Mum gets to eat those too.  Boom.

2. Mad Baby Holding Skillz
Before becoming a Mum, I distinctly remember wishing that I looked and felt more comfortable holding very young babies.  I remember my own Mum would smoothly cradle someone else's new baby and it just looked so natural and easy for her.  Becoming a Mum very quickly gives you this ability that makes you look and feel like a baby holding expert. Somehow your body recognizes with nostalgia, 'oh yes, I know how to do this.'

3. The Check-in Glance
From the moment your child learns how to do anything, you'll start getting the Check-in Glance.  It's that little sneaky look kids give their Mum when they're about to do something (a) new, (b) naughty, or (c) potentially dangerous.  The Check-in Glance is the momentary check reserved for Mums to see how they will react and whether this activity will warrant laughs, time-out, or pain.  Sometimes the Check-in Glance is matched with the Mom Glare (see below).

4. The Mom Glare
The Mom Glare is the face a Mum can flash across the table, a room, or the grocery store aisle that stops their kids in their tracks.  With a swift turn of her head and the glare poised on her face like stone, it says, "Oh, hell no, child.  Stop now or something is going to happen that you will not like."  I smile in recognition when I see other Mom's pulling out the Mom Glare in public.  It's like, 'you go, Mumma - I see you, I respect that."  (Teacher's have a similar glare).  The power of the glare is supernatural.

5. Hand holding
Hand holding makes a serious comeback after becoming a mother and it's a sweet comeback at that.  Sometimes they reach out for you when they attempt stairs, sometimes you reach out to them before crossing a street, and other times you have to grip their wrists as they twist and wiggle to try to get loose.  No matter, a large part of the day is holding hands, and it's an ever present reminder, just as the rhyme goes, "I have a hand and you have another.  Let's put them together and we have each other."

6. Half asleep cuddles
There's something magical about the moments between awake and asleep - its a time reserved almost exclusively for parents where children are uncharacteristically sweet and cuddly.  In the moments right before they are complete awake in the morning, or just on the edge of sleep at night; little hands reach up to your cheeks, little heads nuzzle into your neck, and their sweet rhythmic breath sounds like peace on Earth.  These are the moments that save the entire day from all of the spills, tantrums, and declarations that you will never, ever get enough sleep.  Somehow the 30 seconds to 2 minutes of half asleep cuddles are what makes being a Mum all balance out.

7. The Weight of your Child
There is a strength and confidence that comes with realizing that your body recognizes the exact weight of your own child.  You unconsciously know which hip feels most comfortable for lugging around 45 pounds and what you can carry in your other hand as you balance the 25 pounder on your side.  You find the power to pull a wagon full of tired toddler and pine cones while also carrying the bruised-knee preschooler on your back.  Occasionally, you'll pick up someone else's kid and realize in a sudden unfamiliar flash how different it feels from holding your own child.  Your body startles and sends a message quick to your brain, "Wrong kid, Not Yours," with no need to look at their face or hear their voice - it's the weight of their body that is the dead give away.

8. Inside Jokes
There's just nothing like being on the 'inside' of a joke with a 3year old.  When he announces at the Sunday extended family dinner table through a giggle that, "Catch that turtle, Live Action!," and you find that you are the only other person laughing while everyone else makes well-meaning albeit confused smiles.  You know that its 'funny' because the two of you were playing Turtleman that afternoon together in the living room with pillows.  They might not always be actually funny inside jokes, but no matter - you're in the know, and it's like you're unequivocally part of the cool kids' club.

9. Safety Zone
There is no safer place than a parent's arms to a child.  When something is scary, or unfamiliar, or embarrassing - they run to you.  You become a safe haven for anything ranging from a dark room to the guy with big eyebrows in church.  Not only are you safety for your own kids, but for other people's kids too.  'A Mom with Kids,' is what we teach our kids to look for if they ever get lost.  'A Mom with Kids' is almost always a surefire way to find safety - just as I would do for their kids, I trust other Moms can recognize fear in my child's eyes and make them feel safe and then do what it takes to bring them back to me.

10. More than you are
There is this odd thing that happens as soon as you become a Mom that everyone talks about:  Mom Guilt.  As a Mum, you suddenly feel guilty about doing anything for yourself, because, well you're a Mom now.  The thing is that it's fueled by the little people in your house.  It's not so much that you become invisible (since they scream out for you in a panic if they find that you're not in the room that they thought you were...like, honestly, do you think I've disappeared?!), but more like you're inhuman.  I imagine their little minds thinking, Mom must not really eat because she's always getting us food and leaving the table 36 times during meals to refill my drink and clean up my messes.  And Mom must not really sleep because she comes into my room to rub my back 4 times a night and she's awake when I go to sleep and awake when I wake up.  And Mom must never need any time to get ready because she looks like the most beautiful person alive even with me peeking into the shower the whole time and hanging off of her dress while she puts make up on that I just dumped all over the bathroom floor.  And it's really exciting when Daddy comes home from work and Mom is just the one that is here all the time anyway.  As I written have before, Moms are like the sun; impossible to imagine that it won't be there in the morning - so it's easy to ignore, and take advantage of, and forget to acknowledge*. It's not a lack of love or respect, it's an honest belief that we are more than we really are.  And somehow even though that little fact sometimes feels like a terrible, exhausting, unappreciated thing...it's really the most awesome thing of all.


*to my own mom, who is like my sun - I love you and thank you.

Resume of a Mum of a preschooler

I recently landed an awesome job at a very comfortable work place where I have taken on the top level management position, full-time.  Officially my title is Stay-At-Home-Mother-for-a-preschooler-and-toddler, but I like to keep things lighthearted and just call it 'Mum.'

What this generally means is that I oversee all things related to, representative of, and created by this team of very interesting, unique members with varying levels of capability.  Other employers or businesses may not see how much of an asset this position is and will have afforded me in the future if I ever decide to change jobs again.  However, after taking time to put together a resume that reflects my current position, I think it's obvious that I am receiving invaluable and meaningful experience in my current position.

The best part about my job, is that as the head of management; I get to use my personal creativity and talents to help accomplish day to day tasks.  It has been interesting, as time moves along, to see how our individual team members continue to bring their own interests and talents to our daily interactions as well.  It really makes for opportunities of surprise and delight to see how each of our own personal strengths play off of one another and how we can help each other in areas of weakness.  I can say, it has truly been a learning experience from the start!

The worst aspect of this position is that I was told upfront that someday our team would outgrow us and move into their own selected fields.  Even though I know that this won't occur for many years, it is still startling to see them walk into a meeting and recognize that their face has changed ever so slightly, or that they use the word 'necessary' in the right context.  It's a constant reminder that the day will come, but I am also keenly aware that the main objective for MY job is to make sure they are ready for it - no matter if management is or not.

As time moves on, I have heard from others that my position will change to reflect the current make-up of our team.  In a place of great growth opportunity, I have the chance to expand into other positions including Guidance Counselor, Chauffeur, PTA Lobbyist, Interested Applicant Interviewer, Fashion Police, Human Resource manager, and Strategic Planner.

The pay isn't great and there's no vacation or sick leave, but somehow it all balances out in the end.  And as a bonus, there is almost always cookies in the break room and we celebrate every single holiday - even made-up ones like half-birthdays and first day Archery season.  This sort of workplace atmosphere helps build a tight-knit team like we have - my team members know that I am fully invested in them; as I feel that they continue to understand that their sadness is shared sadness, and their joy- double joy.

For references, please feel free to contact my team members*:
Greyson Rudy
Gemma Rose

*preferred hours are anytime excluding 1p-3p (naptime), and our bewitching hour (generally between 5p-6p).

---------------------------------
if you'd like a hard copy of my Mum of a Preschooler Resume, you can find it here.
hehhehe.

The magic of quiet

On Wednesday afternoon, Gemma took a late nap and Greyson and I went out on the tractor to mow a part of our mountaintop yard.  Shortly after finishing a section, some storm clouds started rolling in and Grey's sleepy eyes started closing - so we stopped and I carried him in the house and he whispered, "I want to lay on the couch for a little bit."

not from this wednesday, but still the same pose

And it has been quiet in our house for the past 2 hours.
both kids are sleeping.
both dogs are sleeping.
blissfully quiet.

I made myself a cup of green tea and sat myself down at my computer to read beautiful blog posts and search beautiful pins and eat a chocolate no-bake.  An actual proper afternoon tea with a teacup saucer and everything.  It was magical.

It got me thinking about the various kinds of quiet that you come to recognize only as a Mum.  There are the quiets like I had this afternoon and the ones I cherish every morning.  It's wonderfully quiet, but somehow through the creaks of the house you can faintly hear the soft breaths of your family sweetly sleeping.  They are all here, in this house, safe and happy, and quiet.  Its the most wonderful sort of quiet that exists.

Then there's the naughty quiet.  The one that Mums, in the middle of an adult conversation, will suddenly stop talking and announce, 'wait - where are the kids?  It's too quiet.'  And then she'll actually get up and leave the room - which in all other instances would be totally uncouth, but everyone knows that its not in this scenario.  Because even non-parents recognize the naughty quiet.  If there are awake kids in the house and they aren't making noise; they're up to no good.  The thing about the naughty quiet is that you only recognize that it exists when its already too late - and you're half afraid to even go check on them because you know you'll have to clean up a mess.

87 copies out of the printer/scanner?  Why, yes please.

There is also the quiet exists when you're kids are not home.  It's sort of an eerie quiet and you catch yourself in momentary panics thinking you forgot one of them was in time-out or you need to check to see if anyone needs a snack.  It's an efficient quiet where you bustle around the house trying to accomplish a million things before the kids come barging back through the front door with their stomping muddy boots and over-excited voices recapping the day's events.  This sort of quiet always feels hurried and lonely to me.  I am glad for the quiet, but always missing the loud in some sort of sad little way.

A few weeks ago, we were playing at our best friend's house with her two children.  So that's four kids under the age of 4 playing loudly, occasionally sharing, and talking nonsense to each other.  We had just busily hustled around the kitchen getting all four of them fed, wiping up spills, and tearing pizza into tiny pieces.  After they finished the three big ones headed out to the back deck (visible from the huge picture windows next to the kitchen table, and Kate and I finally sat down to eat our lunch.  We both let out a sigh and before we started to eat we sneakily looked around and huge smiles grew across our faces.  We just squeezed our eyes shut and raised our glasses:  quiet.

Motherhood has brought lots of new-found respect for things that before becoming a mother I rarely noticed.  But something about the sound of quiet has really been a surprise for me as something I am fully aware of as a Mum.  As a young mum, there is a constant noise running in the background for the whole.day.through.  Cartoon theme songs, toys with buzzing sounds, little feet zipping barefoot through the halls, things falling down, toilets flushing (even when no one has used it), doors slamming, kids whining, kids giggling, kids crying, and insistent demands for questions that have no answers like 'But why is it called hummus?'  It's just a constant stream of noises and sounds that it becomes similar to white noise on a sound machine.  And only now, as a Mum, has the absence of noise become both blissful and unsettling.  And someday those loud kids are mostly grown, I imagine the quiet will then be deafening - and only because I was once a young mum who had so little quiet.

But for now, the magical spell of the quiet is quickly broken when the dogs start barking, or I hear a little whimper from the bedroom.  Or someone sleepily comes down the stairs to me and says, 'Mum, I was sleeping and now I'm happy.'  The quiet quickly slips out of our house not to return until early tomorrow morning, but I won't miss it too much until then because for now, there are booboos to kiss and giggles to share, and why?questions to find answers for, and whines to be patient with, and 'i love yous' to whisper, and a whole lot of noise to be made.

And all that commotion is really the only reason I even remember to cherish the quiet in the first place.

Get Out of Me Angry

A few weeks ago, I would have never admitted this publicly, but here it goes.  Sometimes, I get really angry when I'm home with the kids during the day.  Like a flash of red under my skin and I just snap - yelling and grabbing and forcefully moving kids to time-out.  When I'm not angry, it's nearly impossible to imagine what the kids do that make me that angry to behave like that, but then it happens and in a flash I lose my cool and act like the exact opposite of all that I hope to embody as a Mum.

The truth is - that both the kids take after me in their scale of emotions.  They, just like me, swing from extreme happiness to super-sensitive feelings-hurt, to blinding flashes of outrage.  Luckily, it is mostly extreme happiness during the day and then dips into the other ends of the spectrum.  Brandon is the complete opposite and has a very steady emotional scale that is cool and calm nearly always.  He very rarely swings to the deep ends of any emotion - unless it is an extreme situation (like there's been under 5 times in his life thus far).  Whereas the kids and I can swing to the deep ends multiple times A DAY.  B is the one that keeps us all grounded (xxoxo) and we help him experience the highs and lows of life with sweeping emotions.

So, back to the anger - I don't think I'm the only one (well, I know I'm not as I've been talking about this with some of my mom friends) and I've come to believe that its because the kids can't recognize when they're pushing me too far.  My sister (a non-mom) asked if I get that angry at Brandon and I replied definitely not, but that I think its because he (and most other adults) can see when your buttons are being pushed and they know when to back off before you explode.  Unfortunately, kids sort of have an inherent desire to push and push UNTIL you explode.

So I've been feeling awful about these outbursts and I want to get myself under control - but didn't really have an idea of how to help myself grab calmness in moments when I feel overcome with anger. And then I read an amazing piece in one of my favorite parenting books:  Buddhism for Mothers: A Calm Approach to Caring for Yourself and Your Children.  In a section on anger she writes,

So what can we do when anger takes hold of us?  It won't help to scold ourselves - to be angry with ourselves for feeling angry only adds fuel to the fire. Rather we need to stare at our anger with determination, to be with it until it changes form or dissipates.

I saw my exact behavior in the example she gave when she acted out in anger towards her own children.  I was reading it thinking - this is exactly me and if I can accept that anger comes to me but is never a permanent feeling (actually usually lasting only a few strong seconds) then I could stare it in the face until the feeling left me and then act with a more rational mind.

A little while after reading this, I told Greyson he needed to stop doing something (banging a bat off of the wall near his sister) and when he didn't listen to me, I told him he'd need to take a break.  Then I literally watched him go through the exact three same stages of anger that the book describes:

1. We perceive an object that we find unpleasant.
2. We exaggerate the perceived harm.
3.  We develop a wish to harm.  

Greyson perceived going into time-out/stopping banging as unpleasant.  Then he threw himself on the floor kicking and screaming (exaggerated) and then stood up and turned around to punch me in the thigh.  I stood there shocked that with this new found information - I could watch the anger process progress not only within myself but also exactly in my son's behavior.  Seriously, it was revolutionary for me.

Immediately, I scooped him up and stood him on the bed so we'd be eye to eye and I said to him.  See how you feel angry?  The angry is in your belly but you just wait for it to go away, you'll feel better.  Let's say it together, "Get out of me, Angry!"  Grey shook his head no that he didn't want to but a few minutes later he shouted, "Get out of me, Angry!" and started to cry and then asked to 'hold you.'

We've since adopted at our house the phrase, "Get out of me, Angry!"  For both the kids and I it has been amazingly helpful and a reminder that we can control ourselves when we feel overcome.  When I say it- its a check for the kids that Mum needs a break and that they are pushing too far.

It's ridiculous most of the time the things that bring anger to me.  The other day we were leaving the school track after running and riding bikes - all three of us were tired and hungry.  I had just had to figure out the correct configuration for the stroller and the bike to fit under the truck cover and traveled to both sides of the car to buckle two cranky children in their seats.  I finally got to my seat and was ready to pull out when Grey unbuckled himself.  Which in my stage2 'exaggeration of the unpleasantness' - I perceived the situation to be this huge pain in the A...I'd have to now unbuckle myself, travel to that side of the car, listen to Gem whine and scream why we aren't leaving yet, I was really ready to just get home, etc, etc.  I could feel my belly start to get warm and a yell about to come on, but instead I thought, 'get out of me, Angry,' and I sat and breathed.  In and out, in and out - just wait for it to wash away.  The anger started to leave and I could feel my thoughts start to clear again, "It's not like we have anywhere we need to be, you probably can reach his belt if you move your own seat back, you'll just need to remember to bring snacks on our bike trips, etc, etc.'  Me - 1, Angry - 0.

For Greyson, the phrase has been both helpful in him being able to recognize his own emotions and also a red flag to me that violence may be about to happen - many times towards his sister.  When I hear him give the warning - I have enough time to run to the two of them and congratulate Greyson on recognizing his own anger and also to remove Gemma from any imminent harm.

I wish I could report that our family is totally calm and patient with each other.  But we're not.  We're like every other family - we push each other too far, the kids fight - many times physically (Grey is a pusher, Gemma is a biter), and we lose our cool.  We certainly aren't a perfect family - and we don't even have a goal to be perfect.  We haven't removed all yelling from our family, nor have we been able to remove all of the kid-on-kid violence, but we are trying to be better.  

It's been very helpful to remind ourselves that anger is a part of life - with all of the millions of unpleasantness, annoyances, and irritations that come with just living.  But anger does not stay long; rather just stops by for a brief, very hot, intense visit and then slips away.  We are just trying to recognize its arrival in each of us and find the patience to wait until it leaves.  Trying to pay attention to what makes us angry and how to stare our anger down until it leaves our bodies without hurting anyone else (both physically or emotionally).  And somehow the acceptance that anger exists has helped each of us feel more in control of ourselves.

the passage of time in clothes

I have been working on a giant project these last few days that has been weighing on my mind for several months.  I am just about waist deep in kids' clothes - sorting, organizing, and labeling to ship stuff to the attic in a way that I can quickly find the correct sizes.  Its taking a long while, as unfortunately, things were have been shoved into any open space in bins through working, moving, and new babies.  Alas, the time has come and it's been quite a tedious undertaking to get them all sorted out.

Logistically speaking, since we have a boy and a girl - the bins are being set up by gender and by size for some future babies (NOT YET, grandmas!) or to distribute as handmedowns to our younger cousins (can't wait to meet you, Lainey!) or our younger best friends.

We are blessed with older cousins and best friends too - which has helped contribute to our massive collection of kids' clothes.  We almost will never have to buy any other kids another piece of clothing through 5 years old.  I was holding up size 5T future clothes for Grey and Gem while packing them up and thinking, "Sheesh, I can't even imagine their little bodies being big enough to fit this shirt!"

After the future clothes, I've since moved onto the smaller clothes (leaving the current/next clothes for last) and I feel quite wistful.  I distinctly remember looking at some of the tiny clothes thinking, "I can't wait until they're big enough to wear this!"  ...and that time has already come and gone.

come and gone.

how?

Like this shirt that I thought made him look like a little man (9mo) and looking at it now, he seems impossibly small.

Grey 9mo

and this summer romper for Gemmi girl (size 3-6mo) and that hat!  Oh, that hat that she wore almost every day last summer.

Gemma 3mo

Gemma 4mo

Gemma 4mo

And all of these jammies.  Jammies just pull at my heart - those sweet sleepy babies that have already slipped away into bigger kids that want to delay bedtime as long as possible now.

Grey 2yr, Gem 3mo

Grey 22mo, Gem 2weeks

Grey 21mo

Grey 15mo

Grey 6mo

How can the days seem so long but the months so short?
Only a Mum would get choked up over organizing kids' clothes bins, eh?
....come and gone.

Sweet babies, slow down, my darlings.
you're breaking your mumma's heart.
xxox