no secrets here

I haven't posted in four months. I just haven't felt like it.

and that is ooookay.

Today, I feel like posting this excerpt form a recent journal entry:

"I've forced myself not to feel guilty about being on cruise control today. I went to bed late, was at the gym at 6, so I was tired all day. We watched too much tv, and I didn't get down and play cars with M even half of the times he asked (You guys, he asks about 12387235876432 times a day). That is okay. Why do I beat myself up about these days?

I know someday I will miss this. Too soon probably. I will miss being a dinosaur getting hotdogs and ice cream. I will miss holding my baby girl while she clings to my arm with hers. I will miss wiping bums and teaching to to maneuver stairs. Those days truly are precious. Sometimes it is almost impossible to remember that when I feel buried in them.

Soak it in mama. Soak it in."

Instead

Instead of staying a baby, P is growing and (gasp) practically CRAWLING. 

Instead of swapping out clothes that are too small, I keep squeezing her healthy self into them. I mean, those leggings. How can I not?

Instead of letting C's work induced absence make me nuts I am concentrating on looking so forward to heading west soon, and spending weeks and weeks with this lady.

Instead of cleaning the kitchen I watched these two play, while thinking about how yummy the bigger one is.

Instead of wearing pants I put on the most comfortable leggings of my life, picked up C from the airport, and went to this neat park for lunch.

Instead of being nervous about outings on my own with the minions, I take a superhero with me.

Instead of getting sad about a terrible haircut, I swept those blunt bangs to the side, and simply embraced the frizz.

February and Beyond

Our house has been looking something like this:

                                        

                                        

                                        

                                        

                                        

*Potty training is happening up in here, and its working out this time. Jelly beans have magical potty powers.

*I have a hard time keeping M out of P's crib. I am normally quite diligent about not allowing him in, but I didn't have the heart to deny him this cuddle time. He wanted it so badly. 

*This girl is a smiling machine

*The library is one of our frequent escapes when the walls start to close in at home. M is probably a little too comfortable there. He always has things to tell Diane, our fabulous librarian, and takes complete reign of the children's section of the building.

*I have always tried to foster M's imagination. I lived in my imagination as a child, and wouldn't want it any other way for my kids. Sometimes I am baffled at what he comes up with. Being surprised at the originality of your children is pretty neat.

*smooches

*Those little carts have been at the top of my enemy list for some time. They whisper to the children pushing them to run willy nilly through the store, and to disregard everything their parents are saying to them. All of a sudden he has been listening really well, and staying right next to me all through the store. He even pushes the heavy stuff.

*I was so happy C snapped this for me. This is what so much of my time is spent doing. This kid is obsessed with books. It makes me feel a little better about the fact that he is also crazy for television. We are SO excited for the warm weather, so we spend time outside instead of in front of a screen.

This is when I do my best eating

I recently read a few things about being a mom that have really struck me, and helped me concentrate on soaking it all in, even when its exhausting and chaotic.

Something about the fact that these may not be the easiest times, but we can't simply hold our breath and close our eyes for when things are easier because although difficult, these are the best times. I'm sure you have read many blog posts with similar sentiment, so I won't blather on. But I sure could. Also, blather. What an excellent word.

Even with this being the case, I keep finding myself collapsed on the the couch with relief when the kids are asleep in the evening. These hours are sooooo precious. Should I feel guilty that I look forward (desperately) to these hours when these amazing little people don't need me?

No. Not even a little.

After meditating on the subject over a bowl of life cereal, I realized why these hours are so important for a mom. We give ourselves to our children all day long. At the end of the day we are tapped out. Not a drop left in the barrel. These evening hours filled with Gilmore Girls, Jimmy Fallon, cheesy romance novels, conversations with my husband, and more snacking than the human body should be able to tolerate are how we get ourselves back. It is when we reload.

Because tomorrow we are going to be giving ourselves away all over again, and if we haven't found what we gave away yesterday, (as cheesy as it sounds) we won't have much to give to our children tomorrow.

So when 7:00 rolls around and I am tucking M's blankets so tightly around him that he can't possibly escape without aid before I kiss his little head, its a good thing.

                               

Taking Stock

working: to stay on top of laundry. Babies  get some sort of body juice on themselves or a parent about hourly. 

cooking: chocolate chip cookies (surprised?) and biscuits. My aunt gave me a buttermilk buscuit recipe that rules, and when paired with raspberry butter it is truly impossible to get enough. Bring on the crisco.

reading: emails from my baby bro on his mission. He's the boy version of me. I'm hairy, but handsome as a man. I miss him, but what he's doing is so important and he's so good at it.

listening to: Winter Moon. I reeeeally enjoy Mindy Gledhill. 

wasting time: I never do this, but if I did it would be reading blogs and stalking people on facebook. But I don't....

looking forward to: CHRISTMAS!!!! Which entails family, food, presents, lights, snow (hopefully), and just good old fashioned joy from celebrating Jesus. He's kind of important. 

making: cinnamon ornaments for my tree. They smell sooooooo good. Sniffing a tree was never so pleasurable.

falling asleep to: man cuddles. Having a husband is great for a lot of reasons, but falling asleep next to one is the greatest...when they shower.

appreciating: the fact that Mav is fiercely in love with his baby sister. I have great hopes that they will be close as older people. I get in deep doo-doo when I don't allow him to give her enough kisses. Oops. My bad for wanting there to be at least some facial surface area free of brother saliva.

craving: Sugar. I'm an insatiable sweet monster. It's ridiculous. My sister and I have talked seriously about finding an addiction aid program that would take us.

smelling: more poopy diapers than any human should. M has started to fill his diaper a few times a day to try and keep up with his sister. 

excited: about seeing family. My family (including my husband's family) never gets old. They are the greatest in every way. So much fun and so many laughs are headed my way.

wearing: yoga pants (always) and one of C's shirts (also always). Somehow I feel most comfortable wearing at least one item of men's clothing.

experiencing: being a mom of two. It's actually less difficult than I thought simply because of how well Mav is taking it all, but it's still a challenge. The fact that the cold weather makes outings difficult or impossible has set cabin fever in early this year too. Thank goodness for amazing friends and an awesome community!

completely stole this idea from my darling cousin kayla.

and then there were four

I have missed this space. A remarkable amount.

There have simply been too many other things going on for me to get here.

Things like having a baby, readjusting to life with two children, and helping a toddler adjust to sharing mama.

He's doing fabulously by the way.

I think the perfect way to jump back in is to show you what my life looks like now.

Disclaimer: It just so happens that cameras are only pulled out for the cute parts. In reality there are plenty of messy, dramatic, tearful, boring, ineedadietcokethisinstant kind of moments. But these...these are how I get up and keeping doing it every day.

Some things about being back

Coming back to MN after dark, to a new house stacked with boxes, with a husband working at the opposite end of the state will make you want to cry a little. Or just make a u-turn for the airport to return to somewhere that doesn't make you feel sticky when you step outside.

It only take about 24 hours to get over the aforementioned wallowing , and the purchase of nutty bars, swiss rolls, and toffee ice cream bars definitely have a strong hand in that rebound.

Your toddler will feel like life is taking place in a magical new world because he has grass right outside his front door instead of a prison-like hallway. He also appreciates the newfound strength he has to crush rocks (dirt clods) with his bare hands, so don't worry about the dirt patches on the lawn. They are aiding in the construction of confidence.

Having wonderful friends is dee bayst. I know you don't want to seem moochy and needy, but lady, you're 8 months pregnant, and frankly, need all of the help anyone at all anywhere is willing to give you. Let them bring you dinner and unpack your kitchen. You will be so grateful.

Sleeping with a man in your bed isn't nearly as hard as you thought. Turns out your pregnant body didn't HAVE to take up all of that other space after all. 

Don't rake the entire yard at once. It will send you into contractions. Do half one day, and the other half on some other day.

Don't feel guilty about laying in bed for an hour after M wakes up. He got out of bed himself, and started playing with his toys himself. He's happy. You need rest. You can pick up every single toy he owns in about five minutes. Its okay if they get strewn about.

Those yoga pants that you stole from your mom? They fall down a lot. Try to only wear them at home.

Minnesota, its good to see ya.

Into the West*

Traveling with M was a completely different experience this time than it was when we flew to New Jersey in January.

January: we dropped curb side at the airport very early in the morning, and I went through security by myself with bags and toddler.

June: We parked the car, C walked with us into the airport to help me get bags through check-in, and then he stood in the security line with us. Does getting through security give anyone else unnecessary levels of palm-sweaty anxiety? At the end of the line we learned that you can get a gate pass that will allow you to go through security and stay with loved ones at the gate until they board the plane. Whaaaaaaat? If you knew about this I am mentally glove slapping you for not sharing. They are ladies gloves, and not harmful, but I hope you're feeling repentant.

January: M was still a lap child. This is a good idea for only one reason. It saves money. Even six months ago he was active and mobile enough that keeping him on my lap for five hours of flight time ended up being a challenge.

June: We had our own seats. This made a huuuuuuge difference. I had my own space, and he had his. He got to sit by the window, have his own snack tray to drive cars on, and poke the woman in front of him (thank goodness she was very nice). I got to read a bit, talk to the person on my other side, and even snuck a snack for myself in there. When he fell asleep I was able to just lay his head on my lap, and not worry about his knees or feet bothering our neighbors while I tried to hold him. I could travel with him this way any time.

(C's aunt makes these double sided puzzles, and M is crazy about them. Flipzles. Awesome.)

January: We had a 30 minute layover that barely left us enough time to change a diaper, and rush to our next flight. M didn't have any time to stretch his legs or get a break from me.

June: We had a four hour layover. I was dreading this to begin with, but it ended up being really great for us. We found an empty terminal where M played with his toys and watched the airplanes out the window for about an hour. We walked on the moving sidewalks. We sat down and ate some dinner. We got close to our terminal and pulled out his books. Then it was time to get on our plane. He zonked during take off, and I had to wake him when we landed.

Now we are here enjoying family, having a yard, cooling off in the evening, and playing in the irrigation. Consistently spending more than just and hour or two out of the house every day has made one little boy so happy.

However, there is a man in the mid-west being very much missed.

                

*This song will be played at my funeral. One of you make arrangements accordingly.

The only reason I would want to live through the 80's as an adult

I was thinking the other day about how so many of the women I know within a few years of my age are pregnant.

And hey, in case my attempt at clever announcements were missed, I'm pregnant too!

I thought about how insane it is that so many of us are experiencing it at once, and how young we all are, and how we half-way feel like the phase of life we are going through should still somehow be beyond us.

Then I thought about how social media has tremendously changed this experience for women.

I mean, I went to school with a graduating class of over 400, so I am pretty sure there were some other women pregnant around the same time as my mom. But my mom didn't post pregnancy announcements on facebook for all of her old middle school acquaintances to be able to see. She just showed up at her 10 year reunion with four kids, and said, "As you can see, I've been busy!"

I am kind of jealous of that privacy. I am jealous that the moms of the generations before us got to feel a little more one in a million about being pregnant instead of feeling like, "How do I announce this in a new and creative way as to not get totally lost in the crowd of (wonderful and hopefully ecstatic) other people making the exact same announcement?"

Part of me wishes I was living this life 20 years ago when I only called my mom and my closest friends, and family found out through the grape-vine. But I don't.

I am not sad or upset that anyone else is pregnant; please don't misunderstand. I am simply trying to learn to still make this a precious and personal experience. I know, posting announcement to social media was absolutely my decision. I didn't have to, and I may choose not to in the future.

There are great things about it too. Being able to reach out to other moms online when I've felt clueless has been a big comfort.

I don't think there is any way for this post to not sound a little selfish, but I am a little selfish.

The end

Here's the thing

Blogging seems scary now.

I've started to feel like there are expectations I can't meet. 

Then I ask myself from where these expectations are coming, and I have absolutely no answer to that. 

That ongoing and important topic of women comparing the messiness of their every day lives to the perfect photo-op moments that make it on to other womens' blogs has an effect here I am sure. 

I mean, I use vscocam, and damn if some of those filters don't do magic 

Sorry mom. I said damn, which I never say, and will refrain from saying again.

But really, life his more like this:

You see it?

Yeah. This is real.

Real life is seems like I am out of focus devouring bites of toast in a hospital gown while my boys are stunning and wonderful, and seem to be so much more than I deserve. 

I mean look at that man. You can tell how I end up with a busy uterus. Sorry. Too much? 

I'm afraid that sometimes I blog to meet these superfluous expectations, and forget to do it because I love to express myself, and it makes me happy. Dumb.

Double dumb.

Here is to fuzzy backgrounds and eating food in as unladylike a manner as is necessary. 

Just need to design a super suit

We have been having a lovely rain storm in Malad this morning.

The thundering kind of lovely. There are few natural things that I love better than thunder. It is so powerful in such a comforting way. I am not sure when piddle-causing childhood terror turned into comfort, but somewhere in my tween years it (thankfully) made that transition.

M and I are the only ones in the house. Well, Tanner is in the basement somewhere, but he is sleeping which means he basically doesn't exist. A few minutes ago M started playing with something he probably shouldn't get into, so I gave him a mom look, and told him to "be careful".

As if to back up my mothering wisdom, a wave of booming thunder followed immediately after I finished speaking.  I held my mom expression on M as if that follow up had actually been part of my plan. I wish he was six, and could think I actually had powers. He did back away, so....that could mean something.

Don't you mom's wish that the Heavens and nature backed up your authority all of the time in such a commanding and obvious way?

I guess I know my new dream super power.

aaaaand here is a picture of my child playing naked on the stairs with a bottle of Tylenol....because that's how we roll.

I am Shameless

So I have to post M's one year portraits. I love them.

*Disclaimers

I am not a professional.

I took about 75 pictures, and these five are the best. Yes, I know a couple of them are not completely in focus. Oops.

One year old children are not the most cooperative subjects to work with (I forgot the treats. facepalm.)

I don't have photoshop, and don't know how to use it anyway.

Drumroll:

This is not really happening, but for those in denial...

Whoever let my baby reach his first birthday this fast may find my finger in their eye....as soon as I track 'em down.

I don't consider myself to be a super emotional person, (unless appetite counts as an emotion), so I have been surprised to find myself feeling "verklempt", as my father always put it, about today. 

There are a lot of phrases that have been said too often for too long, but as I have stepped, rather reluctantly, into adulthood, I understand why this is sometimes the case. They are often true.

The fact that time passes so quickly that we can't seem to grasp at it is one of these over-stated things. I have said it before, but it only becomes more true.

So, here is to the boy who sped my time up even more. The boy who made me a mom. The boy whose boogers I wipe willingly onto my own pants. The boy that has eaten the corners of all our cardboard books. The boy who loves is daddy the very best. The boy with dimples. Here is to my little boy.

I love you. Happy Birthday Darling.

Hop on Over

Take another cyber hop over to For All Momkind. 

They are doing a wonderful series this week on how motherhood has made us appreciate, well, motherhood. I was lucky enough to be able to write another post for them.

Here it is. That is two guest posts under my belt. I am feeling really cool by now. 

5 Things

I've found myself doing since beginning my posterity, that I never imagined I'd do:

1. I pick someone else's boogers. I know this is old news to moms, but THINK about it. Imagine doing that for another grown person. Pleh.

2. I have frequent and long conversations with a person who doesn't care what I am talking about as long as I keep going. I normally struggle with flowing conversation. It is a good arrangement in which to learn about myself. However, I do sometimes just sing "This is the Song That Never Ends" for a very long time.

3. I let another human poop into my hand. Don't judge. I didn't want it in the bath water. Yes, I thought about holding him over the toilet, but it was not soon enough in the chain of events.

4. I share my plate at meals. What is the big deal, you ask? Listen people, I don't share my food. Its mine. At the Donovan household, eating from someone else's plate is just as heinous as reading their diary. Which I did do to my sister once. I took it to a sleep over and read it with my friends. I wonder if this is why she no longer journals....? Point, I like my child enough to share my food. Big deal.

5. I let my parents cyber-sit sometimes when I have to go potty, or start the laundry. It is a marvelous arrangement. Also, I know I am a good mom because when my son wants to each wood chips from the flower bed, I hand him the bigs ones so he can't swallow them. Word.

A first I didn't think I would ever have

Guys, I wrote a guest post. I always thought it was so neat when people asked others to write on their blogs. 

It is really neat to be a part of it! Check it out.

http://forallmomkind.blogspot.com/

Do you want to be my favorite uncle?

I don't know what it is about Dick Van Dyke, but it is impossible not to like him. Right? Do any of you NOT have an affection for this man? It is the kind of feeling you might have for a beloved uncle or grandfather. You just want to latch on at the knee and have them pat your head.

I imagine that if I ever met him I would just want to give him a hug, after which we would share a milkshake while throwing back our heads in affectionate and delightful laughter. The sun would most likely be glimmering over us.

We sing to Maverik every night. For weeks I tried to remember the words of this song because I knew that as a child I had loved it. I kept forgetting, and he mostly got "Once Upon a December" sung on repeat because it is my other favorite. I finally remembered to look this up one evening during his bedtime routine.

Don't you just want to be one of those kids?! Being Truly Scrumptious wouldn't make me feel too bad either....

My Weekend Lessons

Minnesota weather is worse than Cache Valley. I never thought it possible. I hadn't completely decided until my one mile trip down the road an hour ago (weather gods, it is April 22. I am reminding you in case you had forgotten because you are too busy basking sunshine upon people in Phoenix and Atlanta) prompted the snow to start falling.

When you have people over for games and hearty laughter, you should probably have a veggie tray, or a juice cleanse available for everyone to wash out all of the sugary treats that they will bring along. Don't discourage them from bringing it all though because it means you will have goodies in the house for a few precious days.

The blue flavor in the rainbow twizlers is the best.

When snot pools up in a babies nostrils over night, it can turn into a forresty green air stopper. The babies don't like it when you remove it with the looped side of a bobby pin. They also don't like it when you pull the crust from their eyelashes even though you are telling them it will allow them to see. Don't worry, we've been to the doctor today. 

Speaking of the doctor, Doctor Who really never gets old. I must have re-watched some of the episodes five times, and I would watch them again. I walk around saying things like," Fez's are cool. It's completely SONIC!", and " Watch it SPACEMAN". I have not yet fallen to the level of buying my child plushy Daleks. We will focus on the positive.

The wisdom of a Skype conversation

My little brother Kade and I were talking over Skype the other day. We talked about various things, and at some point the topic of Maverik came up as he bobbed in and out of the screen. 

Kade said something like this, "You know, I used to just roll my eyes when people wanted me to see pictures or videos of their nieces or and/or nephews. Now I have one that I want to show to people, and no one cares. I get it now." 

My immediate reaction to this is: How on EARTH could people NOT want to see my child. He is ridonkulously and perfectly adorable! I feel immediately protective of the fact that someone may not like him. Off with their heads! 

Then I realize that although I can genuinely appreciate the cuteness of other people's children,even more so now that I have one of my own, it just isn't the same. Let me know if I am alone in this, but sometimes I look at Maverik and feel so intense about how perfect he is, and how he is the best baby in the entire world. Shouldn't every mother feel that way about her own children? At least when they are babies.(Don't get me started on the parents who think their children retain that perfection into their teenage years, and couldn't POSSIBLY do anything wrong. Ugh. I have horrid flashbacks of the worst kind of moments in a teacher's job.) So, every mom really does have the cutest baby in the world because it is her world. 

So, continue to humor me as I post relentlessly here and any other medium on which you may follow, about my baby and how much I can't get enough of him. Also forgive me for thinking that he is the most adorable, and I will forgive you for thinking your baby or niece or nephew is more so.

I mean, someone PLEASE correct me if I am mistaken about this face being so.....gobbleable.