Wednesday, September 29, 2010


So, Baby D still sleeps in our room.  In his pack'n'play, which by the way might be the best thing ever invented for babies.  Last night was the first time I would say he literally 'slept through the night'.  He slept from 10 pm until 7:10 am.  I remember the time, because it's when Emma climbed into bed to wake me up because she's "hungee."  Doing the math, carry the one, that means D slept 9+ hours.  The night before? 7+.  I'm thinking the reason he is waking up in the mornings is because he is being woken up by a certain, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, 2-year old who just slept for 11/12 hours straight.  Therefore....he's sleeping in his crib - UPSTAIRS - for the first time ever tonight.  [The upstairs part is a big deal because our bedroom is downstairs.]  That means both my munchkins are sound asleep, in their nice, clean beds - far, FAR, away from mama.  yikes.

On another note, I took Emma for her FIRST HAIRCUT EVER.  Yes.  She's 2.5 and I've never, ever, ever cut a strand of hair on that kid's head.  How could I?  If I didn't cut it, then that means she still had some of her baby hair.  The hair she was born with.  The little curly bits that went to Australia with us.  (I know, I'm weird.)
I'm not the type to buy a silver box engraved with "Baby's first curl" and keep a strand of the first haircut.  I'm trying to declutter, remember?  What the heck am I going to do with a box like that?  Store it somewhere, and move it from box to box for the rest of my life?  I just don't have it in me.  So instead, I took her to a salon for kids where she sat on an elephant, watched spongebob, got her hair snipped, and left with 2 new orange clips & a super-cute [makes her look soo much older] haircut.  Daddy's been out of town, and he has no idea we went and did this today.  I think he might be heartbroken that daddy's little girl got her hair cut.  [adorable pics to come later] [[not of daddy, but Emma's new haircut]]

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Jealous much?

I should have seen it coming.

It's the one thing that was similar with Emma & Dean's pregnancies.

I had it fierce with Emma.

And it's happening again.

I am insanely jealous of pregnant women.

No.  I do not want to be pregnant again.  Too soon.  Much, much too soon.

And I know it may have seemed like I "complained" towards the end of my pregnancy with Dean.

But, really, deep down, I truly loved it.

Being pregnant is an amazing - AMAZING - life event.  You could [should] call it miraculous.  And I have been very lucky.  They've been easy pregnancies compared to most.  And I try to enjoy all the good stuff about being pregnant.

Not sucking in.
Stretchy pants.
Long hair & nails.
Excuse to not wear heels.
Baby kicks.
Stretchy pants.
Junk food!
Stretchy pants.
The list goes on and on.
Stretchy pants.

So, in an effort to make myself feel better, I took a peek at my old pictures this time around.


19 weeks 
22 weeks 
25 weeks 
30 weeks 
32 weeks 
34 weeks 
35 weeks 
The last pregnant picture ever taken of me & Deaners.
36 weeks, 3 days.

I don't even remember being that big.

Saturday, September 25, 2010

Long time comin'

This vision no longer makes me nervous & frustrated.
She's potty trained!  Bonus!
*She learns about dolphins.  Double bonus!


There comes a time, in every day, when Emma wakes up from her nap, and I think...

dang it.

I just lost my chance to nap.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

And another thing...

I want to start using cloth diapers.

Talk about green....

Rambling on...

Some thoughts/rambles/feelings to post 2 days before I head back to work:

--I love cooking.  I want to expand my horizons.  I want to own all the dishes & pans.  I want to fill my bookcase with cookbooks - and actually use them.  I want my husband to brag to people about what I made for dinner last night.  I want people to beg me to bring a dish I make to a cookout because they love it so much.

--I love not working.  Shame I have to go back in two days.

--I want to become more organized.  Step one: Putting a desk in the den.  Step two:  Setting up the computer, printer, and chargers so they all finally have a home.  Step three:  Manage bills, pictures, and all other electronics better.

--I want to breastfeed my next baby for at least 6 months.  This is a personal challege of mine - and I'm standing firm.  I want this most of all.

--I want to have dinner planned for the week ahead.  I hate when it's 7 and we get a pizza because it's late and I didn't plan accordingly.  Then I feel like crap the rest of the night, and vow to never do it again.  Then a week goes by, and I've done it again. :/

--I want to lose my last 5-10 pounds.  The weight was definitely harder to lose this time around, and I've still got a little bit to go.  I am back in all of my old clothes, but I want to be smaller than that.

--To expand on the last thought - I need new clothes.  Now, any one who knows me and ever saw my last closet probably just threw up when they read that.  But it's true!  I have given FIVE BAGS of clothes to Goodwill, and another one to the garbage truck.  That's a ton of clothes.  I finally got rid of all the clothes that when I look at, I think to myself "Too tight.", "I have to layer something under it.", "Too short", "Old", "Too casual", or anything other excuse.  There were clothes I have had for 5+ years, with tags still attached, that I just got rid of because I always found a reason to NOT wear them.  Pathetic.  So, now I need my version of "mom" clothes.  I don't mean the frumpy, dorky, version of mom clothes.  I mean, clothes that are comfortable, but cute.  They can't be pulled down or up or whatever when little hands want mama.  They need to move with me, instead of me trying to move with them.  And they just really need to be cute.  Is that too much to ask?  Maybe I should start my own "mom" clothing line.

--I want to get MORE green.  I recycle.  I don't use plastic water bottles.  I turn the water off when I brush my teeth.  I use SOME safe cleaners.  I want to do more.

--That's all for now.

This day.

This day is a day to be grateful for memories.




*Always for Ben*

Friday, September 17, 2010


This is right after bath time.
[aka] The time before the fuzziness sets in.

Doing this.

"Rub the underside of your jack-o-lantern lid with cinammon, nutmeg, or pie spices, and push in a few cloves. Then put a lit votive inside the pumpkin and enjoy hours of warm, spicy fragrance."

Andi, Food Editor - Betty Crocker Kitchens

Wednesday, September 15, 2010


September is an awkward month for me ever since last year.

On this day last year, David & I went to the doctor for our first ultrasound for our new baby.  I was 8 weeks, 6 days and feeling all the symptoms.  Without going into all the details, my ob's face dropped, and we knew bad news was seconds away.  Our baby was measuring 6 weeks, 2 days and there was no heartbeat.  This was followed by a second ultrasound to confirm the bad news, and a procedure a week later.  September 25th.  Blech.

However, this was followed by a +positive+ October.  And that was followed by an amazing June, when Baby Dean arrived.

This September, my bil & sil welcomed their new baby, Abel.  He was born premature at 31 weeks.  This baby is a FIGHTER.  He is stubborn.  He is adorable.  He is fiesty.  He is loud.  He is strong.  He is little.  And he is awesome.

To follow that, I just found out today that another woman I know had a her third miscarriage in four pregnancies.  Yuck, right?

In all of this, there HAS to be a silver lining. 

Maybe it's to remind us that getting pregnant, staying pregnant, and having a baby is simply a miracle.  We should be thankful for the little ones in our lives now and for those who are on their way.  Whether we have one amazing kid, like my niece Madison, or 8+ like David's aunt & uncle, we have to be grateful. 

We have to be thankful.

Friday, September 10, 2010

Slow down baby. You're movin' too fast.

I have really started to find a rhythm the last couple of days.

We have breakfast, get dressed, brush our teeth & watch "tattoons".

We run our errands.  Lunch.  Naps.  I clean.  Do some random house project.

Dinner.  Baths.  More "tattoons".  Hugs & kisses.  Bed.



6:00 am:

Repeat.  Repeat.  Repeat.

Sounds boring, I know.  But it's really making it more enjoyable, this whole having-a-routine thing.  Most of the time, I know what's coming next.  Naps are becoming consistent & predictable.  Bottles are easy.  Cleaning always sucks, but that's how it goes.

And every now and then, I stop and really listen to what Emma is telling me, or how Baby D is looking to find me from my voice.  His smiles could cheer ANYONE up, I mean...anyone.  He has the craziest hair, and I'm so used to it.  But when we're out in public, we probably get 5 comments a trip about it.  [I imagine I will tell his future wife this story some day.]  Emma luvs, luvs, luvs her baby brother.  She kneals down to him, and says "hi! hi!" in this tiny, high-pitched voice to get him to smile.  She says "He likes it!".  She runs, I mean RUNS, to get him his pacifier if she hears him cry.  This makes me smile.

So, two weeks from today, I will have worked all day long & done none of this "routine".

Granted, I only have to work 3 days a week, and only one of those days is long....but it will still be a difficult transition.  You can't really call it a routine if you have to change it every 4 days.

As for now, I'm going to go relax with a magazine in bed.  [All the while, I will be crossing my fingers that D gives me 6+ hours of sleep tonight.]

Sunday, September 5, 2010



It's been an eye-opening couple of days  At some point in the last 48 hours, I have felt one of these feelings.  [sometimes 5 or 6 within the same thought] 
I had one of those "the grass is greener on the other side" moments.  You know, where you get to step out of your normal everyday life, and do something completely different than usual for a while.
It made me realize that I LOVE my everyday life.  I love my fixer-upper of a house.  I love that my biggest complaint with my husband is that he lets Emma stay up later than usual...because he wants to hang out with her.  I love that my new son wakes up in the middle of the night, and I am the only one that can really give him what he needs.  I love that I get to stay at home with my children, like my mom did with me.  I love that one by one, my best friends are slowly moving back home (or close enough).  I love that I live less than 5 minutes from both my parents & brother.  I love that one day, my daughter will find someone like her daddy.  I love that Dean is my little guy.  I love that I get to experience the other side of life, so I can realize how sweet I really have it.

No more complaining about getting up in the middle of the night.  Thank God I was lucky enough to get pregnant with him in the first place.

No more complaining about the dirt on my floors.  How hard is it to vacuum?  And I'm the one that wanted hardwood floors.  Shouldn't I be thankful I found a house that had them hiding underneath the carpet?

No more complaining about this, that, and the other.  And no more jealousy. 

Get over it Lauren.  Go hug your kids & kiss your incredible husband.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010


Of course.

It's what I get for bragging.

I slept for about, approximately, on average, in the neighborhood of, oh I don't know, 4 hours last night.

Not to be outdone, my morning was worse than my night.

Emma woke up with a rash.  She was in rare form.  Poor girl.

Dean woke up for the 5,oooth time in 8 hours.

Emma peed her pants.  (We're trying to potty-train.)  Down her legs, onto the floor.  More cleaning.

I looked at the calendar, and I go back to work in 3 weeks.

All of this happened before noon.

Bummer dude.

Found in purse.

"You were born a daughter. You looked up to your mother. You looked up to your father. You looked up to everyone. You wanted to be a princess. You thought you were a princess. You wanted to own a horse. You wanted to be a horse. You wanted your brother to be a horse. You wanted to wear pink. You never wanted to wear pink. You wanted to be a Veterinarian. You wanted to be President. You wanted to be the President's Veterinarian. You were picked last for the team. You were the best one on the team. You refused to be on the team. You wanted to be good in algebra. You hid during algebra. You wanted the boys to notice you. You were afraid the boys would notice you. You started to get acne. You started to get breasts. You started to get acne that was bigger than your breasts. You wouldn't wear a bra. You couldn't wait to wear a bra. You couldn't fit into a bra. You didn't like the way you looked. You didn't like the way your parents looked. You didn't want to grow up. You had your first best friend. You had your first date. You had your second best friend. You had your second first date. You spent hours on the telephone. You got kissed. You got to kiss back. You went to the prom. You didn't go to the prom. You went to prom with the wrong person. You spent hours on the telephone. You fell in love. You fell in love. You fell in love. You lost your best friend. You lost your other best friend. You really fell in love. You became a steady girlfriend. You became a significant other. YOU BECAME SIGNIFICANT TO YOURSELF. Sooner or later, you start taking yourself seriously. You know when you need a break. You know when you need to rest. You know what to get worked up about and what to get rid of. And you know when it's time to take care of yourself, for yourself. To do something that makes you stronger, faster, more complete. Because you know it's never too late to have a life. And never too late to change one."
-Just Do It, Nike 1999