I have pictures from our whirlwind beach trip …
Will anyone believe me if I say I’ve been too tired to connect the camera to the laptop?
The Toddler has a cute little farmer tan going on, and my shoulders have finally stopped throbbing from the pain of my bra straps digging into my skin.
Brion Anderson is a genius.
The first two-word combination I ever heard my son say was this past Thursday. He carefully shuffled into the kitchen wearing a pair of my high heels and proudly exclaimed, “Mama’s shoes!”
Sadly, I was not able to capture that moment in photo, but that day seems to have started an obsession: a deadly combo of the Toddler’s interest in my shoes, and my interest in taking pictures of him wearing them.
The Husband does not approve. My answer to that is, leave more of your shoes out in the open, and he might choose to wear yours instead. Although, mine are much more fun — who can blame him?!
Here he is on Saturday, wearing my sheep slippers …
And on Sunday, after I got back from my workout …
He looks better in my shoes than I do.
And the grand finale, my favorite gold flip flops.
Work what yo mama gave you, son. Work it.
My Saturday plans included working on my tan and pulling some weeds, but the weather was AWFUL all day. So I had to readjust. I cheered up after the Toddler got up and hung out with me in his monster jammies while I made breakfast.
The feet are so cute!
He soon tired of the pictures (it’s increasingly difficult to get a decent shot because he’s constantly on the go!) and asked yelled for breakfast!
Q: What do you do with a 1-year-old when you’re stuck inside all day?
A: Make a fort!
Hi!
Come inside my fort!
It’s AWESOME!
I have all I need in here …
A
bucket …
A sleeping
bag …
… I’m starting to get a little worn out …
And … done.
It’s been a very long day, but we found a lot of imaginative ways to keep busy. Here’s to hoping I can get some of my errands done tomorrow!
I’d like to lie down now. Thank you.
I have been humbled many times in my 30 years, but never so much as I have been in the past 20 months. Raising a child has put me in my place.
People told me that becoming a parent would radically change my life. That meant nothing to me, because I didn’t understand what that meant. Now, I think I’m getting an inkling. Mothering the Toddler is truly the most awesome task I’ve ever been charged with. Every day is a new strange mixture of excitement, fun, laughter, and maddening frustration.
I am humbled by motherhood because it brings out the very best and very worst in me. In every other avenue of my life I can hide behind circumstances, or personality differences with other adults to explain away my bad behavior or lack of patience. But with my child, there is really no excuse for my shortcomings except to admit that I am only human.
We got back last night from a whirlwind trip to see family in Mississippi and Louisiana, and I’m not sure how long it’s going to take me to recover. The Toddler does NOT travel well …
Here’s my boy on Easter morning. Pure happiness.
Is it weird that we let him wear this while he was looking for Easter eggs in my grandparent’s backyard?
Here we are before church. Husband had to work, which was a HUGE bummer. We went to Church of the Highlands which was really good. I’ve been hesitant to go … but I plan to start attending regularly. It made me feel like a good person making good decisions for myself and for my family.
I’m off to CRASH … more soon!
I made a little trip to heaven today. It made me so happy.
Organic Harvest is like a small-scale, more affordable, down-home version of Whole Foods. I love these types of establishments. It’s always been a secret dream of mine to own a heath food store/coffee shop. Something about being in that kind of environment makes me feel energized and refreshed.
I plan to pay a visit there more often. It’s very healing.
Yesterday, a terrible thing happened.
Let me preface this by saying that I am struggling to adjust to summer break. Struggling. Like … it’s good? But also horrible? Can something be good and horrible all at once? Because I’m pretty sure that is exactly what parenthood is.
Making the transition from having all three kids in school for 6+ hours per day (and working during those hours), to having them home all the time and trying to get my work done in addition to mothering in a loving fashion, is not going great. As I have already established in multiple blog posts from previous years, summer is effing relentless.
Pepper is obsessed with two things: outlets and babies. Here she is showing her baby doll the outlet in her bedroom. #multitasking
Thankfully, this year is somewhat easier than previous years simply because my children are getting older and more independent. Pepper will be 3 next week, so I think we’re finally on the upswing after a very dark time in the Valley of Motherhood.
Yesterday afternoon, we got home from playing at the park. The boys jumped out of the van, heard some kids next door playing, and asked if they could go over to play. I granted them permission and took Pepper inside. Her clothes were filthy — covered in layers of peanut butter and dirt — so I stripped her down to a diaper.
I ran to the bathroom with her trailing behind me, always my little shadow. And then, my mom called. She’s not feeling well and I can barely hear her on the phone. I was straining to understand what she was saying — did she just say she needed to go to the hospital?! — and naturally, my toddler got really loud at exactly that moment. As her shouting drowned out my mother, my stress level started to rise.
I went to my bedroom and closed the door. My daughter cried from the hall, and when she stopped, I was thankful. When I emerged only a few minutes later, the house was quiet. A panicky feeling started to rise in my chest, and then it felt like my heart stopped.
Just.
Stopped.
Beating.
Our back door was standing wide open.
Screaming her name, I ran outside. She was gone. Or hiding. Or missing.
I heard a woman’s voice — our across the street neighbor — yelling at me that she just saw a little girl cut through the fences in the backyard.
“She went that way, sweetheart! I was standing here watching her!”
I was barefoot and it did not matter. I ran. I ran until I found her. I couldn’t feel my feet. I couldn’t feel my body. All I could hear was my own voice screaming her name, and my heartbeat deafening my ears. That is what blind panic feels like.
My 2-year-old was wandering one street over from ours, wearing nothing but her diaper. She was holding a toy pet carrier with a little stuffed dog inside. I will never forget the way her face looked when she saw the horror on mine.
“NEVER AGAIN,” I said to her.
“Not with my dog?” she said.
“NEVER, EVER. Do not ever leave this house without a grown up,” I said, as I wiped away my tears.
I’m sharing this story to demonstrate how quickly children can disappear. How many times have I heard stories of toddlers wandering the streets and thought to myself, WHERE WAS THE MOTHER?
That mother is me. I was right there. It happened anyway.
I’m a damn good mom. I am capable. I am aware. I am not negligent. But children are fast. And sometimes quiet. And things happen. So today I’m hugging my babies tight, grateful for their safety, knowing that sometimes other mamas aren’t so lucky.
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Modern Mommy Madness 