Pancake Tuesday

You know when you hear something for the first time that you never heard of 

and the whole world seems to have heard of it? 

Yeah, that was me tonight. 

I hate that. 

I hate that I may have been missing out on something sooo good for so long. 

I mean who wouldn't like the permission to eat pancakes for dinner?!

They also call this day 'Fat Tuesday' - and I really didn't need to hear that to feel like I was missing out or want to join in. 

I have been having fat Tuesdays for a while now...

Speaking of pancakes...I got a kick out of the article below. 

Puuuulease tell me someone also has this issue and it's not just me?!

and I had to just add a picture...

Bargain Baby Sitter

He steps precariously into the living room looking around as if we were recently ransacked.

I feel a smidge guilty as he steps over one toy and then another making a zig- zag path to give me a kiss hello.

 'How was your day?' he says.

My eyes follow his as he surveys the damage.

me: 'It was great actually.'

hub: 'Oh, yeah…what did you do?'

I cringe a little.

I'm not sure if it was worth it to tell him that I cleaned the very room he is standing in when I first got up, during their naps and about an hour before he got home. He would never have believed me.

'Are you referring to the wrapping paper?' I ask.

The wrapping paper was in large mounts strewn from the book cases and ripped into tiny pieces through out the room.

'Ummm, well Vienna found the wrapping paper I used to wrap her birthday gifts'.

I was waiting for him to tell me that maybe I should have taken it away from her.

Before he could though, I told him how it was the best $4.99 I spend on a babysitter
 for two hours worth of contentment.

He nods...and as he walks away I know he's making a mental note...
 to purchase more wrapping paper for when he babysits.

Middle Child Syndrome

Two years ago I was holding my two month old in my arms when I sprung the news on my 

folks that yes, we are expecting again. 

They continued talking as if they didn't comprehend. 

Then a look of fear shock happiness came across their faces. 

Before even saying congratulations, my mother looked at Vienna and said,

 'oooohh you're already a middle child'. 

I pulled 'V' in tighter against me to perhaps shield her from the words.

I vowed from that moment on never to make her feel like a 'middle child'. 

Even if I wasn't even sure middle child syndrome was real. 

All I knew was that with a third child the household dynamics change. 

The parents become out numbered and logistics become more complex. 

I decided then that each child will feel as if they were my favorite. 

Because, well, each one is. 

They are each so different that it would be hard to love them the same. 

Kinda like your favorite book. 

I don't think it's possible to pick out which part you liked best (the beginning, middle or end). 

I think each of those chapters adds to make the magic of that novel. 

Each of my children add to my happiness and having a 'favorite' limits my own happiness.  

When we found out Vienna was a girl, I was set on doing a jungle theme for her room. 

I love themes btw. They give an idea some focus. 

Now, I wanted jungle BUT girly and pretty, annnnd in warm tones. 

Sadly, it didn't exist.

All of the baby bedding on the market was either green or yellow (gender friendly) or 

tan and brown which came across more masculine to me. 

So, I researched and found someone to make bedding for me on Etsy. 

I picked out all of the fabrics, we decided on a style and I hired her to bring my vision to life. 

For roughly the same price as boutique bedding I got something totally custom,

 and different from anything I had seen.

With that said, I have to ask - what adds to the middle child thing?
If it's moving them out to share a room, I'm in trouble.

I have officially sublet her bedroom to her younger brother.
Do I sign her up for therapy now?

I thought I would post some images before I dis-assembled everything.

The room actually never got quite finished. 

I needed additional tie backs and more curtains to make 

them fuller...but getting pregnant a month after you have a kid puts some things on hold.

So this mural took me about six months to do (but I was pregnant at the time). It's a 'transfer' from a company called Tatougue. You can find this mural and a ton of other fabulous ones here. 

Each piece of the mural comes individual, so it took a while for me to place them on the wall. 

I would put it up and have to stare at it for about a month before I decided it would work in that specific spot. It's smooth against the wall, and it's really easy to do. 

I think it came out kinda cool.

The name over the bed is actually a vinyl decal. 

I found a vendor on Etsy who had the perfect pattern. I think it personalized the room a touch. 

Really simple, easy and only about $15 bucks. 

They have a ton of people that do really creative work with the decal's like this seller if you are looking for something a little more fun. 

Before you pity Vienna for being kicked out of her room - take a look at what she's moving into. 

In a kid's world, I'm pretty sure it's an upgrade... 

although if we asked Adryanna about sharing her room she wouldn't quite think so. 

When 'A' first got this bed I wanted to be in it more then her. 

It's kind of like an indoor tree house...but without the tree. 

What a place for a child to use there imagination. 

I don't have a full shot of her bed in her room so this is the manufacturers image. 

Dan made steps to climb up instead of the wall climbing ones which I thought weren't really age appropriate. You can find a bed similar to this and other play houses at playhousedesigns.com

The girls will be sharing a room now so they can snuggle, tell bed time stories to each other and giggle.

Well, in my version anyway ; ) 

We actually got the dresser off of Craig's List (yep, I shopped there) because I blew the budget on the bed. The dresser was white and we added our own flair to it. The lamps are fun and probably one of my favorite things in the room. You can find them in a bunch of other punchy, fruity colors here.

I came across this book shelf/doll house in a Pottery Barn Kids catalog. 

It was about $400 bucks. 

So, I  bribed bargained with my husband to make 'A' her own.

Taaada!!

So if you want to have a little fun you can play 'I spy' and look for my laundry baskets in some of the images above. I'm not lying when I say I live out of our laundry baskets! 

For some reason I can never get the clean clothes back into the drawers. 

I'm working on that though, as well as the notion that it's okay to let some things go...like laundry or a spotless house. 

I try not to let that define me, just like I won't let being a middle child define her.

"Is Anyone Ever Happy Anymore?"

The words hit me like a brick when I saw them from a friend in an e-mail.

I sat back and took them in.

So much in that one sentence.

Now usually I'm more optimistic, but I have to tell you it got me thinking...

4th grade to be specific.

I remember standing single file waiting by the door for the bell to ring.
I was staring at Barbara Runco's double scrunched socks when I heard her say
she couldnt wait until high school was over.

High school. Really? What happened to elementry school?
Or 4th grade for that matter?!

After high school, she said, you could choose what you want to be when you grow up,
sleep in late and have no homework.

Wow, yesssss!
I couldn't wait until after high school now either.

I was convinced right then and there that once I was an adult I would 'be happy'.
As if life waits to bestow that magic gift.

So high school comes and goes and we are given the opportunity
to make some major life decisions.

We bide our time and do some soul searching.
We work to make a paycheck, feel a little lost and think happiness will be found after college.

Then degree in hand, panic sets in.
Seriously, where is this 'happy place'?
So we continue to search, and think we might find it in another person.

You wait, wish and pray for the person of your dreams to come into your life...
cause then you will certainly 'be happy'.
And then they do.
And you are happy.
Ahhhhh.
For a moment.
But wait...maybe true happiness is when you get married.

And so it goes...

Are we wishing our lives away all for the pursuit of happiness?

We live in a world where expectations are high and I wonder if perhaps
we set ourselves up for disappointment.

What is happiness?

Is it big profound moments or all of the little ones in between?

I am not certain, but what I do know is that all happiness is fleeting.
The question though is, does it have to be?
Is it possible to keep that feeling?

Like our most favorite picture, if we close our eyes, I swear we can almost bring back that second. 
The smell, the sound, the feeling.
What if our happiness depends upon how we view life,
 and what we remind ourselves to recall and experience again?

 Happiness.
It doesn't go away. It's always with you.
If you choose to visit it.

I read some where that if you incorporate enough little bits of happiness into your day, and hit pause when they come, if only for that moment you might find that you know exactly what it means to 'be happy.'

*p a u s e*

When was the last time you hit pause?

I'd love to hear your last moment of happiness. Was it bold or a quiet reflection?

Italian MOMster

We bonded over our explicit language and laughed like we were old friends. We were animated when we spoke about motherhood together and hugged like we knew each other forever.

She is candid, funny, loud and real.

I wondered as I saw her newborn son sleeping so soundly if he knew the ride he was in for. The personality, enthusiasm and charm of his mother...that was going to carry him (literally) through life.

There is nothing that really prepares us for that moment when we are handed a baby and given the toughest job we'll ever have. Yet somehow, some way, we know what they need. I am convinced that no matter what books we have read, or the advice that we have been given, nothing is stronger or more poignant then a mothers intuition.

When Maria picked up her new son she spoke in Italian...fast and furious, loud and lively. Her little man laid nestled in the crook of her arm looking up at her with bewilderment, amusement and pure affection. I'm guessing he was thinking she was a little crazy too - yet what kid doesn't think that of his folks? ; )

And as if right on cue baby G listened to his Mama, snuggled in for a nice nap and let us get some adorable sleepy shots.

Okay, if the head of hair is not enough to make you giggle and sigh out loud, check out those billowy lips.

He is one beautiful baby boy.

Mom told me there is nothing better in the world then when he snuggles under her chin when they wake up for late night feedings. I would have to agree. It's kind of a moment when the world feels perfect. Well, for only like umm five seconds, cause you mind quickly replaces it with, 'I wonder when he will finally be able to sleep through the night so I can finally get some sleep' as you are trying hard not to drift off

Hold them tight.

It goes faster then you can ever imagine.

As we were winding down, we heard the back door swing open, and Dad yelled 'did I miss everything'?

Nope, just in time.

21 days of pure perfection - slept a good hour for us. Usually at this age, newborns are much more alert which sometimes makes it harder to get those sleepy shots.

I'm not sure what Mom said to him that made him behave, but what ever it was it worked!

The look of love...

Thanks Frank and Maria for being so gracious and making me feel at home in your home.

Maria, you did a fabulous job keeping the house nice and toasty so baby G could get all sleepy.

It worked like a charm...or whatever you bribed him with did?! ; )  

Help these folks reach 20 comments (right below) for them to receive a complimentary gift!

My Dad

"Tony", a little more to the left. 

He climbs all the way down the 15 foot ladder and moves it over an inch and goes up
and re-adjusts it. 'Nahhh...I like it back the other way', the voice bellows from below.

He doesn't say a word, he turns and looks at my mother with an amused look on his face,
but also with a smile.

This goes on for ohhh, two months straight during Christmas (well actually through out the year too ; ).

He is nostalgic, sentimental, and ummm emotional. 

When he laughs - he laughs until he cries, and really, you can't just sit and watch,
you have to laugh until you cry too. 

You know that laugh where no noise comes out really, just that hissing sound? That's him.

Once it's starts, you're done. 

It lasts a good half hour.

His hands are larger then life, kinda like his heart.
He gives his all, all the time, at every moment.
When he gives you a hug - it's a bear hug. You're engulfed.

He can do anything. I swear.
And I'm not just saying that cause he's my Dad ; )
Not only can he do anything, but he has a sense of humor and is enthusiastic while doing it!
A rare combination. I can assure you.

In between the bills and catalogs I was carrying in today, I see it.
An envelope written in all cap letters in his hand writing.
I know it comes each and every holiday (even the small ones),
 yet I'm still surprised.

Before I even reach my front door, I have opened the envelope. I pause to read the words that he carefully chose. Tucked inside is a scratch off lotto ticket, in place of the fresh pressed dollar bills he use to send when I was younger. Every holiday like clock work a Hallmark card comes to my home.
You would think we live across the country!
Nope.
20 minutes tops.

Now, what is even more crazy is that not only does he do it for me,

but also now for my husband and my three kids.

It is one of the most thoughtful gestures someone has ever done (and continues) to do for me traditionally.

I'm not sure Dad if you know it or not, but you can stop with the 'win for life' lotto tickets.

We have already won....we got you!

And because I know my Dad, he's going to say,

 'What, you couldn't put a picture of your old man on your fancy blog'? 

So without further ado, meet my Dad (along with Mom)

 They make ordinary moments, extraordinary...

annnd there is the laugh...

Happy Birthday Dad,

I love you! 

You make my life happy...

Peeping Tom - Facebook

I was dead set against it.
Wouldn't even listen as my younger sister would tell me how much she loved it.
I couldn't think of a more horrible way to waste my time then to read about old high school acquaintances
(no offense). 

Not friends - acquaintances for crying out loud. 

I didn't get it.

Fast forward a few years later and social media makes it a necessity to have a Fanpage on Facebook for your business. I was annoyed that I was forced into it, and even more annoyed when I found myself getting sucked into it. 

Why did I care what you ate for breakfast or when your child had their first bowel movement?!

 But strangely enough it was amusing, entertaining and addicting as hell. 

People that I didn't know even had a personality, were hysterically funny.
I found out early who loved to bitch and who I had things in common with. 

What was even more crazy was that it wasn't even the ones who I had expected.

It was a new way to judge people.
We all stereotype - its human nature. But now without the face or the clothes to hide the disguise,
we are all being judged on our personality or public persona.

Soo, yeahh...

that innocent remark you made last week about your husband -
has now gone through the grapevine and the whole web thinks you're getting divorced.
The weekend get away that you couldn't wait to tell everyone about,
is now being shared with 500 of your ummm closest 'friends'.
Friends that you knew, what, twenty years ago?!
They haven't changed much, right?
(where is the sarcastic font when you need it?)  

I remember growing up where the golden rule of my parents home was 'whatever we discuss in this house, stays in this house.' We didn't air 'dirty laundry'. Ever. And in this ever changing world it has not only become acceptable to do so, but encouraged.
We have all become stalkers, creepers - peeping Tom's. 

We peer into each others lives like we belong. We make opinions and judgements and then realize with fear that we are all not that different after all, no matter what high school may have labeled each of us. 

We all live in 'glass houses' and our words and comments make an impact,
regardless of how big or small we may think they are.

'Remember the days when Sunday was meant for re-couping from the weekend, chillin all day, relaxing? Not any more! Now it's laundry, cleaning, organizing for the week, cooking meals...yeah...it's fun to be an adult!

I read that quote above from the FB wall of one of my past bride's.

I sympathized. I reminisced. 

I felt compassion for the new Mom. 

I liked her more for sharing the same opinion as me. 

I silently thanked her for not making me feel so alone in this big old world.

I have come to accept and 'like' ; ) FB more.
I appreciate it - for all that it is and all that it is not.

While we (the Face Book community) may not be in each others lives on a daily basis for one another,
our words certainly are.

Use them wisely.