Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Loading Up

I guess you could say we're fat-packing. Carbloading. Cramming every bit of goodness that isn't naturally occuring on this earth into our bellies.

And we're doing so at record speeds.


Pecan pie? Yes, please. Maybe two slices. Wine? Well, I'm not really thirsty but I'll have a bottle. A big, double bottle.

On January 1st, 2012, we're entering in a competition at our gym that requires us to eat a paleo-based diet for 35 days. Dennis said he plans to lose 50 pounds in a month. I am shooting for something slightly shy of that number. Not sure if you noticed or not, but there is an important word in the statement: COMPETITION.




We are eating DANGER FOR BREAKFAST.    And lunch. 

We're making sure we are in prime shape for this competition.  We're stacking the cards in our favor.  And we're going to win.  We will not only look fabulous when we win but we plan to smile (an evil smile) as we take the entire pot of money, too...

I need to learn about what it means to eat, paleo, too, I guess. 

But don't worry, I'll keep you posted as I learn. 

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Magic Reindeer Food

"Oats are a Reindeer's favorite food, cinnamon is their favorite smell and sugar crystals reflect the light from Rudolph's nose so Santa can find your house. A magical recipe for kids to make on Christmas eve in preparation of Santa's visit, and it won't harm any small animals that might take a bite."

Ingredients

1 cup oatmeal
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 cup white sugar
1/4 cup red sugar crystals or 1/4 cup green sugar crystals

Directions

Combine all ingredients in a resealable plastic bag.
Seal the bag and shake until well- combined.
When its dark on Christmas eve, sprinkle the magic food on your front lawn to help Santa and his reindeer find your house.

Makes just enough for all of Santa's reindeer!



 

Monday, December 19, 2011

Happy 4 Months

Blake,

Happy four months!  I am so glad that you've kept us for this long.  You entered into a world of chaos four months ago and things have not slowed down one bit since then.  Thank you for keeping us.  We're growing more and more fond of you each day. 

One word to describe you?  Smiles.  You smile at least 90 bagillion times a day.  You giggle when we change your clothes or I tickle your neck.  Your toes seem to be ticklish, too.  Your giggles aren't overly present and so I do try to get you to share them with us more often.  I mean, once a day is for sissies!  And your giggle makes me grin from ear to ear.

In-between smiles you will talk, gnaw on those hands, and sometime you'll even grab your tongue on accident.  I've tried to explain to you that your tongue is always there and it hurts if you pinch it with your fingernails but I'm not sure that you get it just yet.  You will get it, I have no doubt.  Just not yet.

You rolled over for the first time on December 10th.  After you did it you just looked at me as if to say, "yeah, so what?  That was easy.  I practice when y'all aren't looking.  I've got skills, Mama." 

If you don't count rolling over, eating solid foods for the first time (last night), playing in your exersaucer, and seeing Santa in Bryson City, you really haven't done much since last month.  I mean, seriously, Blake, let's get moving. 


You are so patient.  And quiet.  And perfect.  (And you are correct, I'm not biased at all.)  You really only fuss when you get tired.  And I say 'fuss' because it's not even a real cry, it's just sort-of a complaining noise that you make.  A few minutes of complaining often leads to us giving you your pacifier and then 5.....  4....  3....  2....  and you are out. 

Connor loves you so much and you seem to feel the same way towards him.  I realize that this may not always be the case but since you aren't that mobile (yet), your relationship seems to be on very good terms.  You look up at him with complete amazement and I am sort-of scared of what you could be learning from him.  I'm sure he'll teach you plenty of good things...but plenty of not-so-good things, too.  I love watching your relationship develop. 

Krissi and BAM take such great care of you during the week.  I am pretty sure that they both spoil you all day long but that's OK.  We won't hold that against them.

Your sleeping is still great, too.  We do need to buy a bigger swaddle blanket for you but otherwise you are out for the count after you eat around 9PM and then don't get up again until 7AM.  You take after me in that you really seem to appreciate those hours of beauty sleep.  We need to drop your last feeding but we haven't pushed ourselves to do that just yet... it's hard once we learned what it's like to sleep through the night again!

Blake, we love you! 

Love,
Mom

XOXO




Sunday, December 4, 2011

The Polar Express

When we walked into the house this afternoon, it felt like we had been away for a week.  Or at least a few VERY LONG days.  But less than 48 hours prior, we raced out the door for our Polar Express adventure.  It was a LONG 48 hours ago.

For whatever its worth, we had the best of intentions.  We really did.  I was so excited that I was already planning to make this trip to Bryson City every year.  I just knew that it was going to be so much fun and so relaxing that we'd be sad to leave and eager to return the following year.

Our planned escape from Atlanta was to take place on Friday at 2pm.  Nope, it was a 3:30PM departure.  And Mr. Garmin led us straight into traffic on 85N and a few other spots.  An alleged 3.5 hour trip turned into 5 hours.  And THAT is the good news. 

The bad news was that Mr. Garmin really likes to take the fastest route possible, even if it only shaves off 2 or 3 minutes from the next best option.  So, he decided to take us through the most curvy mountain roads that I've even seen.  And saying that I've "seen" them isn't really the truth since it was pitch black by the time we were in North Carolina.  And we were on said roads for 20+ miles. 

Connor was watching "The Polar Express" on the 9 inch DVD player on the back of the passengers seat headrest.  I would say that it was on the back of my headrest but I wasn't sitting there.  I was wedged between the two kids in the back seat.  Connor looked up after we'd been on this miserable mountain road for a good while and said, "my butt hurts".  At least that's what we thought he said. 

Until he started to barf. 

In hindsight, I don't think he was referring to his butt.  I think he might've been saying "my belly hurts".  Luckily for us, we only had 2 or 3 more miles to go until we would be able to pull over to clean him up a bit.  We drove up to the property management company to get the keys to our cabin and Dennis jumped out to talk details with the manager while I picked up our sweet, puke-covered little boy, and took off his shirt.  The house was only a few miles away so it wasn't long before we could completely undress Connor and brush his teeth. 

Once in the house, we were able to breathe a sigh of relief.  We did it.  We were there. 

All four of us slept together in the main bedroom - Connor on his "blow up Big Boy bed" and Blake in the pack-n-play.  I must admit that I fell in love with the king sized bed that was for Dennis and me.  He was awake most of the night because he didn't feel well and I didn't even notice.  I slept like a log. 

We started off the next day in pretty good spirits.  I was determined that this was going to be our most fun trip yet. 

Dennis told me that he was bored and Connor was getting cabin-fever, so I suggested that they go to check out the "really cool waterfalls" that I heard about.  So they did.  I told Dennis that I thought the waterfall might be a short walk from the national park entrance, nothing too bad.  They could go to check out the waterfall while I finished getting ready and fed Blake another time. 


I was right that it wasn't a far walk to the waterfalls once you were in the park.  It was .3 miles, Dennis said.  What I wasn't so right about was it being an easy walk.  Dennis told me it was straight uphill.  And he had to carry Connor. 

At least he didn't need a workout that day, then, right? 

After they returned to the house, we set out to explore Bryson City.  It took us approximately 2 minutes to drive there from the house, which was nice.  And it was a cute little town. 

We played around and checked out some of the gift shops, and stopped in a toy store geared just to train-lovers, AKA Connor.  We walked out of there with an ornament for our Christmas tree and a new train for Connor.  He only has 90,000 trains and so he definitely needed this one. 
After eating lunch, Dennis said he'd take Connor to get the car if I'd take care of the check and our little girl.  Seemed easy enough. 

But it wasn't. Well, it was easy for me because Blake was asleep.  Connor, on the other hand, decided that he didn't want to be carried to the car. And he didn't want to walk to the car, either. But he did want to scream and cry. Dennis LOVES carrying Connor when he is like that.

Needless to say, Dennis and Connor looked exhausted when they picked us up. They both needed a nap.

Lucky for them, they got one. As soon as we were back at the house, they both passed out.

I fed Blake and almost got to take a nap, too. We were all rested and so excited to ride The Polar Express. It was going to be SO. MUCH. FUN.

I probably should've known to bring my expectations down to a more normal (or sub-par) level when we had to park what seemed like a mile away from the train depot. It was gravel a lot, which is fine. The problem was that the stroller we brought with us doesn't work well on gravel. So Dennis ended up carrying Blake in her car seat and Connor walked along side me with his non-stop chatter about the train. He was really excited to ride a choo-choo.

I knew it!  I just knew this was going to be the best trip ever.

Oh, and I almost forgot to mention something. And it was rather disturbing. Yes, the kids in the movie are all wearing their PJ's and so it makes sense for the kids to wear their PJ's on this train ride. What doesn't make sense is for the parents to be wearing PJ's, too. We saw entire families in matching one-piece PJ's. Dennis made it very clear that if we ever came back that I shouldn't even so much as ask him to do that. Because the answer was always going to be NO. And I assured him that those words would never come out of my mouth.

OK, so we finished walking 85 miles to our train car. We lucked out and got the very last one. Eagerly, we boarded the train and were excited to find out that there weren't enough seats. Are you kidding me?!  Technically there were ENOUGH seats but since they weren't assigned, people in groups of 6 or 2 or 5 or any other number just screwed us.  We couldn't find 4 seats together.  And it was 500 degrees on the train. 

A party of six was nice enough to "squish" together so that we had 3 seats together.  We weren't just squishing together, we were completed squashed.  Blake and her car seat in one spot, Connor on Dennis' lap, and the camera, diaper bag, bottle bag, my purse and everything else you can imagine, were all piled on my lap. 

The train departed and Connor was beside himself to be on a real, live, train.  It was really sweet to see the amazement in his eyes and the other kids on the train. 

The train departed and one of the Polar Express crewmembers, if you will call them that, was named Fluffy.  And that was just such a perfect name for her.  She was thrilled that we had a baby on the train and decided to come over to look at Blake and SCARE HER TO DEATH.  This lady wasn't scary looking but as soon as Blake saw her, she started crying.  And screaming.  And Blake doesn't cry.  It felt like it got 100 degrees warmer in our train car at that moment.  Dennis shifted Connor over to my lap and grabbed our screaming little girl. 

After she calmed down, we shifted again and I was holding Blake.  And then she made a deposit in her pants.  Of course she had to do that on the train.  In these close quarters. 

Fluffy came by again.  And again.  And again.  And everytime she stopped by, Blake would cry. 

It got to the point that when I saw Fluffy approaching our seats, I started to cry a little, too.  I wasn't sure if I would be able to survive the entire 75 minute train ride. 

We traveled past the North Pole, saw where Santa lives and saw a few elves.  Then Santa got on the train and gave each child a bell.  Connor was thrilled.  Tired, but thrilled. 



The train made it's way back to the station and Dennis kept making comments about Fluffy under his breath. He made me laugh so hard that I had tears rolling down my cheeks. The hilarity (is that a word?!) of the entire cluster-you-know-what was too much to take. And the train ride couldn't be over soon enough.

Once back at the station, we hiked another 85 miles back to the car. This time I was carrying the tired, crying, little boy of ours. He was so far past being done that it was a nightmare getting him loaded up and back into the car.

I packed tons of fun things to drink anticipating that we'd return home to the cabin on Saturday night, put the kids to bed, and be ready to relax and spend a few hours hanging out just the two of us.  Again, I had the best of intentions...  There is a good chance that I took two sips of my beer.  MAYBE two sips.  Probably just one.  Dennis was sick and completely exhausted from the days activities.  So the hot tub went un-used and we brought home all of the fun drinks that I packed for us to have that night.

We left early this morning (Sunday) and made it home in an easy 3 hours.  We avoided the curvy-puke-inducing-road that we took on the way there and now that I think about it, those 3 hours might've been the only ones that went as planned. 

We might not ever go back to Bryson City to participate in the Polar Express Train ride again.  Or we might.  But if we do, it won't be sooner than 2 or 3 years from now.  We need to have slightly older children and we need time for the wounds to heal from this trip.  We need to forget what we went through. 

Then again, I don't want us to forget.  Now that we are home, I can say with a smile that it was fun.  OK, it's more of a smirk, but it's close to a smile.  And we created Christmas memories that we'll joke about for years to come.

Monday, November 21, 2011

Happy 3 Months

November 19th, 2011

Dear Blake,

Three months?  Are you serious?!  Even though you are still a little girl, you have a big personality.  Your smiles and coos light up any room.  And those cheeks are just so kissable.  I can't get enough of holding you and talking with you about what went during the day.... or what your brother has been up to.  Usually you have quite a few tales to tell about your big brother.  And I have this feeling that you are learning a lot from him about how to torment your parents down the line, too.  That smile is innocent, yes, but I know that there is a lot going on behind those beautiful eyes. 


In the last month, you've met two very important people.  Two people with whom you share a name - - Elizabeth - -  and who played a role in some of the traits that you have.  The first one, Mommo Loesing.  Your great grandma in Missouri.  She was so excited to see you that she didn't wait for us to bring you over to her house.  She couldn't.  Nope, she drove over to see you as soon as possible.  And then I couldn't pry you from her arms.  


The other very special person that you were able to meet is your great grandma (Mema) Peyton.  We visited her in the hospital last weekend and she bragged on you and Connor to every nurse, medical assistant, and any other passer-by.  As we were about to leave to drive back to Atlanta, she smiled and said, "I now know why they call them GREAT." 


In addition to being a jet-setter with travels to Warner Robbins and Columbia, Missouri, you have somehow found time to work on building your neck strength.  Man-oh-man can you whip that head around to watch Echo or your brother as they run by. 

And teeth aren't that far away.  It looks like the two on the bottom are thinking about coming through very soon.  Since you are a genius (obviously) and know that teeth will give you the ability to eat foods other than Similac, I'm sure that you are willing those teeth to pop through as soon as they can. 

I love you, Blake.  Thank you for being so laid back and for putting up with the chaos that now seems to be our current state of living.  Please keep smiling and making every day more perfect.

Love,
Mom 

Saturday, November 12, 2011

And...another year has come and gone.

For some reason, this years birthday celebration was the best that I can remember. 

Maybe it was the fact that Connor sang, "Happy Birthday TO YOU" to me numerous times.  Or the fact that Dennis picked up 3 cupcakes for me on my special day.  Connor and I sat down to "split" the cupcakes as he loves the cakey part and I love the icing part. 

Or maybe it was because Dennis took a vacation day the Friday before my birthday and we went shopping.  For me. And then we had some delicious margaritas from Uncle Julio's for lunch. 

Or could it have been because of the beautiful Michael Kors watch that he purchased for me?



It could've also been because I received so many thoughtful cards, phone calls, gifts, and emails from the the most important people in my life. 

Hmmm...not sure which one it was, but I'm not going to try to figure it out.  It all worked together to create the perfect storm.  And it really was perfect

Thank you for a wonderful birthday this year.  I'm no longer counting the years but instead enjoying the days with the sweet people in my life.  The people that make every day more special and every year pass by too quickly. 

Friday, November 4, 2011

Thank You, Baby Blake

Oh man.  It's the small things in life that seem so BIG after you have a baby.  Or two.  Or just haven't slept through the night consistently in, oh, 11 WEEKS.  Not that I'm counting. 

The Martin household was all smiles this morning.  Blake slept from her 10PM feeding until about 6:30AM this morning.  SHE IS AWESOME.  Eleven weeks on the dot.  I do realize that by posting this on my blog that she will not sleep well again for probably another month or two but I don't care because now we have proof that she can do it. 

For the last several weeks she has been waking up at 4 or 4:30AM and I was giving her a bottle at that time.  She'd fall right back to sleep and then we'd start the routine again at 7AM.  I consulted our baby bible, Babywise, and in the question and answer section I noticed something.  I noticed an answer to what Dennis and I had been discussing for several weeks. 

Apparently, if a baby consistently wakes up at the same time every night, it is very likely that the baby is waking out of habit, rather than out of need.  And the solution?  Wait a few weeks or don't feed the baby when she/he wakes.  Two nights ago we decided to give it a shot.  We weren't excited about waiting a few more weeks for her to sleep all night but we also weren't excited about having her cry during the night.  The book suggested that it usually takes a baby 3 nights to break a habit.  So the end was in sight. 

She woke up one or two times and I rocked her back to sleep the first time.  I think she cried for 15 minutes around 4AM that morning and it killed me to not go in there.  I know it doesn't hurt a baby and it's perfectly natural for them to cry every single day but I. STILL. HATE. IT.  Since she stopped crying and went back to sleep until 7, we knew that she wasn't really hungry but probably was waking up out of habit.  

We went to bed last night prepared to face the same challenge.  But we didn't.  She is the most amazing little girl I've ever met.  She went to bed after her last bottle and woke up a little before 7AM.  

Sleeping through the night is an amazing thing.  It's great for Blake in a lot of ways, but it is really great for her parents.  Echo even seemed to be in a better mood this morning.

Thank you, Blake!  Thank you, thank you, thank you!  





Saturday, October 29, 2011

Need to Get Something Off My Chest

...and no, I'm not referring to the milk jugs that disappeared (sadly) from my chest.  But it IS pregnancy related. Isn't everything?  

It's probably just a mix of being postpartum, inadequate sleep and too much time to think about things.  But I am kind-of pissed that I'm no longer pregnant.  I LOVE having Blake here - don't get me wrong about that - but I wasn't finished being pregnant when she arrived.  Makes complete sense, right?  The girl who complained nonstop about being pregnant is now saying that she wasn't ready to end her pregnancy a few weeks earlier than anticipated? WTF?

I guess I just feel like I needed to do more things.  I wanted to take a final belly shot.  I wanted to have her room completely ready.  I had tons of drawers to clean out and wanted to straighten out our closet.  I wanted to be emotionally and mentally ready for the last child that I would have growing inside of me.  Maybe you are never really ready to have your last baby, but I at least wanted the opportunity to try.  

This is something that has been on my mind since August 19th.  And it hasn't gone away so I am pretty sure it's a legitimate feeling.  That's not saying it's normal... but it's legitimate.  

And another thing, has anyone found a way to slow down the clock?  I want to push the PAUSE button and enjoy Dennis, Connor and Blake more than I am able to do in a normal 24 hour period.  HELLO, I need more time in a day.  I know that I'm the first one to ever ask for that.  

I didn't realize it when it was happening, but I have tried my best to manipulate time and make my maternity leave go as slow as possible.  I didn't want to be overly busy because, as we all know,  "time flies when you are having fun".  So, in a backwards type of way, I thought that if I wasn't having fun, at least time would go more slowly.  Talk about being smart and beating the clock at it's own game.  Or maybe not being smart at all.  Time still managed to escape my grasp.  I was unsuccessful at slowing it down.

Maybe I had it backwards, afterall.  Since time was moving too quickly when I was trying not to have fun, maybe it would move less quickly when I caved in and participated in something that I wanted to do.  

So, I gave in to some fun options as of late, and just as I feared, the days and minutes were never long enough.  I went to the beach with some girlfriends a few weeks ago.  I flew home with Blake and Kelly to visit my family.  My mom came into town last week.  I even got my hair cut and highlighted (gasp).

While I was home in Missouri, I went to Shiloh with Megan.  We've been friends forever (literally) and have been going to bars together for many years... years before we were supposed to be allowed in there.  I looked around and felt old.  Very old.  

When we were headed home (by 10pm, as Megan promised me), Ben said something that made me laugh really hard.  

I told him to stop making me laugh because I was going to pee in my pants.  Not because he was that funny (sorry Ben) but because that's what happens after you have two kids.  You pee in your pants.

And maybe that's my learning.  Or the story of my life lately.  Two kids have a way of not only changing but redefining everything.  EVERY-thing. And you have less control over things.  Things like bladder control and needing more time in each day. 

Monday, October 17, 2011

Happy 2 Months

October 17, 2011

Dear Blake,

This month has seen so many changes!  Not only are you showing us your big gummy grin on a more regular basis, but you are also sharing some incredibly sweet cooing noises.  As of a week ago, your dad pointed out that you were complaining most - well, let's be serious here, all - of the time.  Now you are showing him up and saying nice things to us, too, which is very much appreciated. 

You are holding your neck up so well.  No signs of crawling or walking yet, but I have this feeling that you are going to do everything very early.  Once you see realize that your big brother gets around so quickly because of how he uses his legs, I think you'll start to use your lower appendages for more than kicking the person nearest you.  No rush on that, though.  We can stick with kicking for now.

Holding you in my arms and having you fall asleep on my chest are two of my favorite things.  I know that I won't get to hold you that way forever;   I cherish every moment that I can steal you away from your swing or bouncy seat if you appear to be drifting off to sleep.  Those are moments that I wish I could bottle up and store for another time.  Oh, I just love it.  (And I'm getting tears in my eyes thinking that I probably won't be able to do that with you for that much longer.)

You and I decided to say "phooey" on breastfeeding.  When I say, "you and I", I mean "you".  Seven weeks was a good run for us; you much prefer the speed and ease of the bottle as opposed to the work required for breastfeeding.  You are much happier with a mixed bottle of breast milk and formula.  And I learned very quickly... when Blake's happy, we're ALL happy.  So we're doing great right now.

Sleeping is a work in progress.  Your dad will give you the last bottle of the day around 10pm and then he whisks you off to your crib to sleep.  Around 3am, I hear a familiar sound coming from your room (AKA a yell) and we have our bottle-feeding rendezvous and you are back off to sleep until about six am.  So, we're getting there... we're just not at the finish line quite yet.  I'm confident that you'll get there soon enough, though.  At least that is what I keep telling your dad and myself.  Please don't prove me wrong. 

Tomorrow, October 18th, will be your first airplane flight.  Kelly ("AK") and I are taking you to Columbia to meet your great grandma Loesing, great aunts and uncles and to see your Nana and Papa.  I doubt that your Nana and Papa will be able to sleep tonight because they are so excited to see you.  They still like us, sort-of, but they LOVE seeing you and Connor at every opportunity they get. 

I love you, Blake.  You make every day so much more special than I knew it could be.  Thank you for being you. 

Love,
Mommy



Oh, and BTW - I realize that this is technically two days shy of your "2 month" birthday.  Being early is not something I do very often so we should enjoy it.  :)

Saturday, October 8, 2011

A Berry Interesting Adventure

It seemed so simple.  Leave our house around 9AM, bottle feed Blake on the way, play around at the "cow farm" (Berry Patch Farms), grab some pumpkins, and then head back home by lunch time so we'd be there in time for our family nap. 

And, what happened today was none of that.  We finally departed the Martin residence around 9:30 with a crying 7 week old and excited little boy in the back seat.  We stopped to get gas at BP and coffee at the connected McDonald's.  Dennis went into the dual-purpose building and re-emerged what seemed like decades later.  It seemed like decades, anyway, because my gas pump wasn't working (it kept saying, "SEE CASHIER") when I tried to pay at the pump.  Blake was crying in what I'm sure was her loudest voice ever and Connor then joined in the fun and started crying saying, "My want cow farm, mama... my want cow farm!"

Blake's cries didn't sound like they were going to subside so I offered what seemed like the only obvious solution:  I would sit in the back of my very teeny-tiny company car (Fusion) in between the kids and feed Blake as she sat in her car seat.  Once I climbed in over Connor's lap and was situated between them I realized that I wasn't able to pull the door closed.  We must've looked ridiculous because a lady at a nearby pump asked if I wanted her to close the door for me. 

And this is all before we were officially on the way to the Pumpkin Farm. 

Connor kept asking me, "What dat, Mama?"  I would tell him it's a tree or a car or a fence and then he raised his voice and started talking really loud.  I asked him to please be quiet.  And then I said it. 

"Connor, do you want to go to the cow farm?"

"Yes, Mama."

"Then don't yell.  Cows don't like it when you yell.  And we won't go to the cow farm if you keep yelling."

"OK Mama."

Did I really just say that?  Cows don't like it when you yell? 

I looked up front to see if Dennis heard what I said and closed my mouth before the words came out.  Because he was jamming out to the 90's radio station and was dancing to Coolio.

Two things happened in that moment:  I realized we aren't that cool anymore, even though we think we are.  Dennis dancing in the front seat and I am using cows to get my son to use his inside voice.  Really???

Somehow, we made it there, all three of us sitting in the back with the best looking chauffeur that I've ever seen. 

Once at Berry Patch Farms, we saw goats, pigs, and a few chickens.  There was one cow, but it was really small.  We took some pictures, chased Connor around, had Connors face painted, and then re-loaded the crazy bus for our 45 minute drive home.  For some reason I thought it made sense to leave the Baby Bjorn in the car and just carry Blake instead.  So both Dennis and I had our arms full.  Too full to bring home any pumpkins. 

We drove 45 minutes and dealt with all of this drama so that we could get our pumpkins. 

But we didn't bring even one home.  Nada.  Zippo.  ZERO. 

So, I'm just throwing it out there that we're going to cheat this year.  We're going to a nearby church next week to buy our pumpkins. 




Sunday, October 2, 2011

From Beer to Apple Juice

It feels like our house is never organized.  Toys and random items seem to be scattered about on a regular basis.  The only time that I feel like our house is truly clean is immediately following a visit from the cleaning ladies.  It's a wonderful feeling that goes away all too quickly.  But, I'm coming to grips with it.  And I'm accepting the fact that I love our crazy life and having a crazy house often goes hand-in-hand with that.  So, we're good for now.

And, yesterday was no exception.  There was no sign of the cleaning crew, so our house was in it's normal state of chaos.  And Connor was drinking some apple juice.  My laptop was sitting in one of it's normal spots, on the coffee table.  Right next to the iPad.  And yes, you can see where this story is going. 

My laptop apparently wasn't very thirsty or it just didn't like apple juice.  So it's out of commission.  Dead, deceased, kicked the bucket.  What a wuss - crapping out on me just because it didn't like apple juice.  WhatEV.  And apple juice is good for you (we buy the brands suggested by Dr. Oz to be at least as safe as the water we drink)!  Jeez, Louise, Mr. Computer.  Get a grip.

Five or six years ago I had a similar incident happen.  While using my laptop, I decided to enjoy an adult beverage and ended up - - and I'm embarrassed to now admit this - - crying as I heard the computer literally squeal and squawk to it's death as it gulped down some of my Bud Light.  I cried.  I think I may have even squealed and screamed as much as my laptop did.  It was pretty pathetic on both of our parts. 

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I realize that the obvious lesson here is that I need to put my computer out of harms way - that is clear.  And no beverages - adult or otherwise - within a 10 foot radius is another good recommendation. 

Life isn't the same as it was just a few years ago.  Apple juice, rather than beer, seems to be the most popular beverage at my house.  And this time, as my priorities in life have been upgraded, I didn't cry over spilled apple juice.  And I try not to cry when I spill some of Blake's breast milk that I worked so hard to pump...but that's a work in progress.  Baby steps.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Life with Two

Several people have asked me how much different life is with two kiddos as compared to life with only one.  This short photo sequence answers the question pretty well.