Lawn care

I cannot possibly imagine why we have such an abundance of dandelions on our property.

Photos courtesy of beloved Miss Kristin.

Happy Monday!

Choirs of angels

So, dear friends, Hubs and I are going to see none other than Jimmy Buffett this summer.

In order to prepare for the event, I have been listening to Buffett non-stop.

The kiddos may have noticed.

If that doesn't make you laugh, I don't know what will!

Happy Friday!

If it weren't for my friends

I know for a fact that I don't sing the praises of beloved Miss Kristin nearly enough.

Let's be clear here.

She is not my childcare provider. She is not my nanny or my babysitter.

She is my friend and she is helping Hubs and I raise our children.

She's patient with them, and firm.

She reminds them to say please and thank you.

She limits their TV time, even though they complain vociferously. 


She wipes bums and noses.

She enjoys them. (when they deserve it)

And as if that weren't enough, she occasionally takes unbelievable photos of them, edits them and then nonchalantly sends me an email, "Took some pics of the boys..."

Prepare to have your mind blown.

 She sent me a zip file with six astounding pictures. I'm only sharing one today.

You'll have to wait for the rest.

We love you, Miss Kristin!

Daddy photos

This adorable little sequence of photos came from Daddy's iPhone.

Too cute not to share.

Wee one works on his Elvis impression

Ready for my close up, Daddy!

Meeting of the minds. 

Show me... surprised face! 

Ah-choo!
If the Big Boy's face were any cuter, it might be fatal.

Brothers. 

Rainy and Monday? Fail.

Rainy Monday.

1st day of school vacation week.

Not so fabulous.

Though, I shouldn't complain - usually at this point we are still hovering in the 40's with a bunch of stubborn snow left.

So, a little rain? I guess we'll take it.

Besides, even the smallest puddle is good enough for stomping.

Excellent photography skills. Big Boy caught mid-stomp.

I'm sure there will be lots of time spent reading the same Thomas books over, and over, and over again.

"The end." I say.
"Now you can read it again!" they say. 

And I do hope that lots of good things will come from the oven.

Here's a fun game: guess which batch of muffins are egg-free?

Now you know why eggs are important in baking. 

Dreary Monday - I know it won't slow the boys down, so I better get my butt in gear. 

Friday Moment

Friday Moment with Soule Mama again today.

Hope your moment was better than mine! If so, leave a comment with a link!

My moment occurred last night when I went to the gym to teach my usual Pilates class. They were kicking off a 12 week weight loss program, and when I arrived they were weighing the participants in on this space age scale.

"Hop on!" said cheery, scale-wielding, fellow fitness instructor.
"Sure!" I say, as if getting weighed might be fun.

Getting weighed = not fun.

A print-out was produced.

FAT TO LOSE 5.81lbs
In case you couldn't see the giant print at the bottom.

I have placed the print-out where it will be most effective. 

In front of the M&Ms. 

Have a great weekend! 

Happy Birthday Hubs!

It's Hubs' Birthday!

Last year I wrote about all the things he's taught me.

What to write about this year?

Yesterday I read an article about Dr. Oz in which he made this great statement about marriage,

"I sometimes say that in 27 years of marriage, I've been married to three different women and Lisa's been married to three different men: the student, the surgeon and the talk show host. People do change during  a lifetime, and we should view this as a positive instead of panicking and backing away."

Now, don't be fooled - Hubs is not a man who changes easily or frequently. He is stable and solid as a rock, but time changes us all.

And I can definitively say that I have had the opportunity to be married Hubs-version-1.0 and now Hubs-the-father.

The addition of the boys to our life has, like water running over a stone, slowly made some changes in our beloved Hubs.

Remarkable changes, beautiful changes.

If I know anything for sure, it's that parenting is hard. So hard. But, as with all other things in his life, Hubs tries his very best.

He's a dad, through and through. He's changed his share of diapers, paced with his share of  feverish boys, sung his share of "You are my sunshine".

He's there.

Strong, steady and solid.

He thinks about what we're doing here, how we are raising them - and that, my friends, that is where the wisdom is.

He's off to work today - just like every day. Dependable personified.

Hey Hubs - go out for lunch or something, it's your birthday!

Happy birthday, our dear, beloved Hubs.

We love you so much.

Muffin

If you buy the Wee One a muffin from Dunkin Donuts,

He's going to ask to eat it in the car.

If you let him eat it in the car,

You're going to have a rather large mess on your hands.

Now, I know what you're thinking,

Have you seen the nutrition facts on one of those muffins? 


Yes, indeed I have. But you see, the Wee One is, well, wee. And he subsists on oatmeal and water.

So when his little voice calls out from the back seat,

"Hey Mama? Kin I haff a bwoo bewwy muffin?"

What am I gonna say? No?

So, if you too are ever suckered into giving this kiddo a muffin in your car, here are the steps for clean-up.

Remove Wee One from seat and shake off debris.

Remove car seat and shake out debris.

Do not look directly at the spot where the seat usually rests.

Remove floor mat and shake off debris. 

Obtain vacuum. 

Vacuum car seat, scary spot where car seat rests, floor mat, floor, space between the two car seats, Big Brother's car seat (while you're at it), and the front of Wee One's shirt and pants (despite protestations).

If you've done this clean up in the garage, obtain broom and sweep debris out of garage. 

There! 

Muffin? What muffin?

Sweet Caroline

This weekend Hubs and I went to Fenway Pahk to catch a Red Sox game.

We haven't been to Fenway since the Big Boy was born, so it was quite a treat.

Now, when you're heading to Fenway, you have to be prepared.

Tickets? Check. Bo Sox cap? Check.

Giant iced coffee and team coordinated nails? Check

We were lucky enough to get to spend the whole day in town.

Seeing the sights...

Memories... 

Getting some great food... 

If you are a beer geek you have got to grab a pint (or a sampler) at the Yardhouse just down the street from Fenway. Awesome food, phenomenal beer selection.

Sampler!! 

Finally, we made our way over to the pahk.

Chilling with the rest of Red Sox nation.

Finally we settled into our seats. 

And cheered our gang on to victory over the Rays. 

Love that dirty water! Bah-bah-bah! Oh! Boston your my home! 

It's the little things

Sometimes, when you've been up all night coughing... When your Nyquil hangover is relentless... When it's 6:04 and both kids are already up...

On those days you just have to find one little thing that makes you happy.

For me, that's today.

And my one thing is a little project I did yesterday with the help of beloved Miss. Kristin.

Shoe caddy/pantry organizer!

Hung a shoe caddy in the pantry and found a home for all those wee things that were rattling around in there creating messiness.

Sometimes you've gotta work with what you've got. And today, I don't have much.

Conversations

Conversations with a four year old are a bit like battling a wizard.

Exhausting.

Stretching the limits of your rational mind and capacity for logic.

Filled with tricky loopholes and dangerous surprises.

Oh, and exhausting.

"Why?"

The Big Boy and I, yesterday morning, circa 6:03am:

Him: "Mama?"

Me: "Yeah, Bud?"

Him: "Is today a gym day, or a school day?"

Me: "It's a gym day, Buddy"

Him: "Why?"

Me: "Because you don't have school today, it's Tuesday."

Him: "Why don't I have school today?"

Me: "Because the school is closed on Tuesday. You go Monday, Wednesday and Friday."

Him: "Why is school closed today?"
Me: "Because the everyone needs a break from each other."

Him: "Why do they need a break?"

Me: "I cannot possibly imagine."

Him: "Mama?"

Me: "Yeah, Bud?"

Him: "Is it Tuesday?"
Me: "Yep."
Him: "Why is it Tuesday?"

Go ahead gang, try to tackle that one: Why is it Tuesday? 

***

The Wee One, on the other hand, is the verbal equivalent of an octopus - trying to extricate yourself from a conversation with this kiddo is not easy.

"Mama?"

It is bedtime. I am standing at the door, attempting to close the door and escape to the couch and a hot cup of tea.
Him: "Mama!"
Me: "Yeah, bud?"
Pause
Me: "Goodnight, bud."
Him: "Mama!"
Me: "Yeah, bud?"
Pause.
Him: "Uuummm. Kin you..."
Pause.
Me: "Goodnight, Bud."
Him: "Mama!"
Me: "It's time for bed, buddy. Goodnight"
Him: "Mama! Kin you come here?"
Me: "No, Bud. You've had your stories, songs, and snuggles. It's time to put your head down and go to sleep."
Pause.
Him: "MAMA!"
Me: "What, buddy?"
Him: "Mama? But, can you come in here?"
Me: "No. Goodnight."
Him: "Ummmm. Mama?"
Me: "Goodnight."

***

The view from here

This weekend Hubs got his hands on my most prized possession, my camera.

We have two very different shooting styles and so it has been a treat to see our Easter activities through his eyes.

I shoot up-close, kids-only photos. And Hubs shoots with a more photo-journalistic approach.

I have been surprised to see myself in our photos.

Note to self: next year grab an Easter basket.
 My plastic-bag-for-cashed-Easter-eggs looks pretty ghetto.

Who the heck is that? Oh, me. 

Whose old lady hands are those? Oh, mine. 

Gotta admit, it gave me a bit of an existential pause. 

But, then again, that could be just the Nyquil talking. 

How the heck did I become the thirty-something mother of two? I'm still sort of a boob most of the time. 

Shouldn't I have my proverbial shi*t together by now? 

I feel like shouting it from the rooftops, lest someone get the wrong impression, "Hey! You there! I do not have it together!" 

How is it that I am running herd on my two little XYs when I can barely run herd on myself? 

One day last week I forgot to brush my teeth. 

I wear the same black yoga pants and hoodie every day. It's true - just ask Miss Kristen. 

I do not drink nearly enough water, nor do I eat enough vegetables. 

But these photos make it very clear that I am the mom, stumbling along behind, holding the ghetto bag of empty plastic eggs. Orchestrating a memory. Carrying on a tradition. 

How did that happen? Why does the photographic evidence feel like a splash of cold water? 

I feel as if at some point I should have been notified: 

"Dear Bad Mama, 

This letter serves as notice that you are the keeper of traditions. 

Do not forget to leave chewed up carrots lying around on Easter morning. 

You are the tooth fairy. You are the monster-eradicator. 

You are the answerer of questions. 

You are steering the ship for awhile, before the kiddos hop in their own boats

and dash off. 

Keep an eye on the horizon."

Easter!

Egg hunts, sweet treats, and ham.

Who could ask for more?

Good, good stuff.

Unfortunately now it's Monday.

Hello treadmill, I suddenly regret all those Cadbury mini eggs.

Friday!

Friday Moments with Soule Mama again today.

If you have a moment or two to share, please leave a comment with a link!

I imagine I won't be the only mama posting about Easter Eggs today...

Dude, three words: Old. Lady. Hands.

Youch.

Anyway, have a great weekend! (I'm off to go moisturize my hands.)

He did what?

Yesterday our Big Boy got sent home from preschool for hitting.

The details of the incident are a bit sketchy, but a bloody nose was the result.

It is so bizarre - this boy does things in school that he never does at home.

He's been sent home for biting and hitting. At home, he is the picture of non-violence. It's his brother that we are always putting in time out for hitting. It was his brother that was the biter.

At school this kiddo also has an issue with eating play-doh, when he has never even taken a nibble of play-doh at home.

What's up with that?

It's frustrating because I feel a bit blindsided.

He hit someone?

In the face?

Hard enough to cause injury?

My son? Are you sure? Brown eyes, brown hair, obsessive about trains? Yep, that's him.

This adds additional fuel to my parenting guilt. Not only did he hit someone (teaching empathy and non-violence fail) but I didn't see it coming (parenting insight and knowledge of my child fail).

I'm trying not to catastrophize this. He is a kid. Kids hit.

But I am alarmed concerned by the fact that he acts out at school but not at home. Is home not a safe place to be naughty and learn consequences? Do I not provide enough situations for impulse control? Socialization? Play-doh consumption?

Parenting is frustrating. Confusing. Humbling. Oh so humbling.

Hilarity or sleep deprivation.

Good morning Gang, today I'm going to share a sequence of photos captured by Beloved Hubs - at this moment in time, I think they are hilarious, but I have to be honest - I'm in a dreamy post-Nyquil haze and haven't slept well for the past few nights due to a cold.

This post could be a total bust.

Let's forge ahead and find out.

***

We had almost no snow in our region of NH this winter - so the boys are a little confused regarding snow activities.

Bro! Check out my snow angel!

Naw dude, check out my snow angel!
That's the most hilarious snow angel ever, bro.

 ***

Now let's practice the ancient art of karate

Hi-yah!
Flying front kick to the face!

 ***

Running!
Swiftness personified.

***

Check out how high I can jump!
Woah, dude, that is a seriously high jump. 

Like I said, I'm not firing on all cylinders here this morning - so if you are confused and/or disappointed by this post please send your complaints directly to: 

Fighting the Common Cold @ Nyquil .com

Spring!

It's official.

Spring is here.

No, not because of the calendar, dear friends - because I have bought: my summer handbag. 


Now Gang,  I am not much of a girly-girl. Make-up and I have a tenuous relationship. Curling irons and/or flat irons? Forget it.

I require vigilant monitoring by my closest girly-girl friends to avoid looking like a boob (thank you beloved Miss Kristin, A-rae, and Kelly).

That being said, I do love handbags - despite the fact that I gravitate towards boring, plain, and (Okay, fine, Amanda) matronly.

But not this time, guys. Not. This. Time.

Got myself the most beautiful, custom bag from Bag Du Jour, an Etsy shop.

The perfect size for a busy mama, yes?

Clean, classic, timeless. 

With a gorgeous little pop of fabulousness on the inside. 

I could not be happier.

Go, order something from Genevieve - you won't be disappointed.

Pinch of this. Dash of that.

Good morning Gang.

How was your weekend?

My weekend was super productive.

A cleaning frenzy was unleashed and I tackled those jobs that I never seem to get around to.
* floors and furniture: vacuumed 
* bedrooms:  dusted and pledged 
* STAIRS: VACUUMED 
* stubborn grime in tube: removed with comet


Ta-freakin'-da!
I also completed an astronomical amount of laundry.

God this blog has hit a new low.
Hey Guys - Here's a list of all the chores I did!

Boring, Melissa.

Let's try again.

***

Good morning Gang!

Today I have jury duty and a cold!

Nope, too complain-y.

One last chance.

***

Good morning, Gang!

Guys, listen to this. 


I found the most fabulous bra in the world.

Stop whatever it is you are doing, click here, and go order at least 3 of these, immediately.

I know you will be skeptical.

I need underwire, Melissa.

I need more support, Melissa.

One size does not fit all, Melissa.

You must trust me, ladies.

I didn't believe it either.

But now I want to shout it from the rooftops.

Liberation from uncomfortable bras!

Comfort and support!

Shapeliness without metal!

Go. Buy. They're cheap!

You're welcome.

We'll try this blogging thing again tomorrow.