{insert nonsensical title - much like this post}

I have come back to this place, thought of this place - for months. I have logged in and started this post more times than I can count, but never wrote a word. I have looked in trying to figure out where to start. Do I start at all? Do I backtrack? Do I explain where I have been? Can I? Nothing too dramatic, yet possibly more dramatic than you imagine. It's a little bit of everything and nothing specific at all.

I'm not trying to be all wordy about where I've been. I honestly don't know what to say, how to say it or if I should anything at all.

This is the longest I've gone without writing, since I started writing here.  I feel lost.  There are all kinds of ways to share online, but it's in tidbits. 140 characters. Images that only capture a moment. Answering the question: what are you up to?  And frankly it can't possibly show the full picture, but neither can this space. The last few months have me rethinking what I post.  It is just small views into our world. I feel like I am painting a picture that wasn't really true to the whole picture. The small moments don't show it all. And lately it has felt fraudulent. I try to be real and not just share the rainbows. {I am well aware of how ridiculously cheesy this sounds - but it's the truth.} But I can't possibly share all the dark clouds. The tantrums are one thing, but there is so much more I can't possibly put a filter on.

This space provided a little more latitude to be a little more real, but never quite everything. Over the course of the last 6 months I don't know that I felt like I could be real at any level. I haven't really felt all that real. It all started to snowball.

Maybe I'm on an upswing.  There will always be things I protect and can't be transparent on. But maybe things are coming into a space where I can start to use my words a bit more. I've missed it. I need it. I'm going to quit the excuses and just start. I won't make any promises, but I'll acknowledge no matter what the reasons of not being here - I've missed it and go from there.

We're going to Disney. A true unveil: leave your tissues at home

The mistakes I made:

• Over thought the surprise element.
• Got a balloon too big for the box - part of said over-thought unveil. 
• Expected too much. 
• Rushed the announcement, it wasn't a good time. 
• Set up too many cameras. There may have been at least 2 in sight.
• Announced the big "WE'RE GOING TO DISNEY!" after a unique 2-3 hour nap. 
• Built up "we have a surprise for you" before she even came down to unwrap said over-thought unveil. The nerves kicked in with the case of sleep coma she was in and add to that complete stage fright.... 

When life hands you an underwhelming response, you make an iMovie.



An hour or so later she was vibrating with excitement. It will be wonderful.

Taken after the "surprise" element wore off. I asked her to
hold the sign... she came up with this face all on her own.

Sisterhood in motherhood

I was speaking with a friend the other day, a mother herself. We shared stories about trying to find friends. Not the friends you grew up with, went to college with, worked with - your mommy friends.  The friends you hear you'll find in a mother's group or at the hospital with your baby.  Their children and your children will be besties.  The women you'll find that are in this moment with you - your sisters in motherhood. They share your experiences, they understand what you are going through.  You'll go to the park. You'll have play dates. It'll be grand.

I have friends in my life, that are my family - they are my sisters. That's not what I'm after. Though if I'm being honest, I wouldn't mind a good local lifetime friend up in here. It's more so, I imagined that this whole motherhood gig would bare a sisterhood among other mommies. A bond or respect that is instant or at the very least likely.

Except it's not.

I'm sure these groups or people exist, somewhere. I'm not saying these magical mommies are the unicorns of Fantasyland. I am saying, I'd fall over if I met one.

This friend I was speaking to? She has three girls, all somewhere around my age. Home girl was speaking from experience... but guess what? It hasn't gotten any better, not from my vantage point. What the hell, I thought everything got better with time?

If you are going to say any combination of the following, I don't want to hear it:

• Get out there!
• Be patient. 
• Are you getting involved?
• Have you tried local mother groups?

I've tried it all.

I join online groups (meetup.com, local Facebook groups) and I have been kicked out of more than one. Why? Because I can't commit to the daytime play dates. I work. Let's not get into that divide, the continued debate, the {dramatic music} mommy war.

What the hell, ladies, I can't meet for coffee at 9:15 or story time at 11 and you can't do this girl a solid and let me be involved virtually to start? It's freaking meetupDOTcom. It's a freaking website. I told you I would meet up at some point, just needed to work some things out. What's that? None of you want to meet in any hour that is after 5 pm or on the weekend? Awesome. Leave me out in the cold? Thanks. I really feel that sisterhood, especially when I get another deactivation notice in my inbox. Nothing says solidarity like a "you can't be in our club" notice.

Said profile picture that
repels people.

Facebook? I've reached out to people and volunteered where I can for local events. Nothing. The group leader puts out a request for volunteers - message me - they say. Message I do and I don't get a response back. Is my profile picture not friendly enough? For God sake we're a freaking Pinterest dream right here.

I've signed up for classroom activities, reached out to other parents in the class to see how I can help and on more than one occasion received a "we're all set." I've attempted to volunteer directly through the PTO and received little encouragement if any response. It's as if, they have their tribe - their people - and not taking new recruits. They are all set. My oldest is in kindergarten. For all intents and purposes, I will be in the district for years to come. Wouldn't you want to let me in, if only for the tenure I have to offer? I've attended a PTO meeting in a room full of people who all knew one another. Not one person introduced themselves. I smiled, I said hello, I was friendly.  I was shy, but not unwelcoming. In the same meeting they discussed how more parents need to be involved and how could they get people to be more active?

It took all I had in me to not raise my hand, "Suggestion from the peanut gallery - a little 'hello, and how do you do' is a start. Playing hard to get as adults is not cute."
Side note: Someone is saying to themselves: "Are you this hostile in real life? Cause I think I found the issue." No, I'm not. That's why I didn't contribute in that moment, because I likely wouldn't have been able to be all calm about it. Someone who knows me is thinking, "You are TOTALLY this hostile." And to that I say: it's different if we already know each other.

Could I have been more aggressive (in a nice way), could I have stuck out my hand and introduced myself? Absolutely. I have. It still gets me nowhere.

At a recent meetup activity I was able to attend, I introduced myself to another mom. Stuck my hand out and said hello.  You know what she did? Didn't take her eyes off her phone. She was on meetup.com to see the RSVP list. She said she wanted to "see if she recognized anyone by their picture to introduce herself to." As I was introducing myself, live - and in person. 

I have this dream that I'll find my tribe. Forget the tribe, I'll take a warm body (that makes some semblance of eye contact). They have to be out there, right?  I'm looking for quality over quantity. I'm hoping for one person to let me in their club; to show me this comradery of motherhood - face to face.

Side note: did you know they make 'mommy play date cards'? I can't seem to get a hello, but somewhere, someone out there is meeting so many people she needs freaking business cards? How in the hell?

Source: etsy.com via Amanda on Pinterest

I'm going to keep trying. I'm going to keep at it. It doesn't help I'm coming from a place of starting out.  I've been the new girl for the last few years. I'm always starting this search. I cannot wait to not be the new one. When I come in contact with the 'next' new person - hold on, girl. Mama's gonna make you feel welcome, it will be uncomfortable for both of us - I'm sure.  I can assure you it's better than the alternative.

My plea to who very well may be our grand finale

Dear JJ, 

Hello. Your mother here. You know. The one that carried you for 10 months. Sure, I didn't really know for the whole time. But I still carried you. And PS. Not to go there, but, let me go there: not only did I carry you, but with carrying you came the joy of giving myself a shot each night to remind not only are you there, but I can't eat ice cream or carbo load. It wasn't fun, nor funny. I hate shots, more than I hate being pregnant. While your commute to the world wasn't easy (for me), every day since then hasn't either. Yea, you are adorable. Cute. Funny. Strong (willed). Independent. Smart. Loving (when you are not on the attack). Beautiful. And so much more. But seriously, can we be real here?

War wounds of sisterly "love."

In return for the life we were blessed to give you, I ask you: why can't you cut me a break.  I'm not asking for the world, just a small - modest - list of things that I say, very confidently, it is the least you can do.

• Stop the violence.
• The hitting & scratching, has to stop. If you can't stop the latter, for the love of all that's holy, let me cut your claws semi-regularly. 
• Sleep. 
• We brought you down to one nap to avoid the 4am wake ups. But listen, even though 630am isn't 4am - it's still dark out. Wait until day breaks. For the love. 
• Take your one nap. You were at 2 naps at 2-4 hours a POP. How is it down to one nap you are barely clearing 2 hours. I am no math expert, but these numbers don't add up. 
• Stop being a snot.



For the love: SLEEP.

• I know you know how to say more than you let on. I know this because if I catch you at the right moment you do yo thing. This whole all of a sudden you don't know how to say Mama bs? Not.Cute.
• Be careful, tough guy.
• The climbing up, running for the stairs to go down, the putting ridiculousness in your mouth. The lot of danger you brush against each day? Cut.It.Out.

Love you, we do. Hard, absolutely. But if I'm being honest here - I thank each day that you were not our first because home girl - L would be a dang only child. As it is, I am putting off our hopefully third for fear what the next will bring. And sweet baby hay-zues, if my wish for twins were to come true... I don't know if your father would make it. For reals. 

Lovingly and hoping for a break, 

Your mother.
Mama. Go ahead, SAY IT. I know you can!

The beginning. The spiral.

My baby is four years old. She's not a baby, but she's my baby and I don't know how I will survive her.  She's a caring little lady. She's funny. She's smart. She's mine. She's ours.  She's loving. She is the best big sister, I think that was ever made. She lights up whenever she plays with her little buddies. She loves to make new friends and is thrilled every time she meets a new little playmate. She is, as you can imagine, the best.

She is sensitive. She feels things so deeply. She's a people pleaser. She wants everyone to like her. It's scares the shit out of me. Do I want her to be a bull? No. But with some balance, I want her to be herself. I find, that she goes with what other kids do. She's really fixated on friends now a days. It started a few weeks ago. "Mama, is Jez your best friend? Is Liza? Who was your best friend when you were a little girl? What do you mean you have many best friends? What do you mean, Daddy is your best friend? He's your HUSBAND, he isn't your best friend."

Sigh. 

She comes home from the park and will say, "Mama, I met a new best friend!" She doesn't remember her name.  Or we'll go for a bike ride and she'll pass a little girl she once played with at a totally different park and say, "Oh look - she could be my best friend!"

I try to explain, best friends will come in time. It's good to be a good friend to people, and they good friends to you. That not everyone will like you and you may not like everyone - but we're always respectful and kind. I try to explain that through out my life I have had many different groups of friends and some of my very best friends I haven't spoken to in weeks, some even months - but we love each other and we've been there for each other and we'll be there for each other. I might have gone over her head on that one. But we try to be honest, even if it's awkward and it usually is.

It's starting to spiral.  

The kid used to play at least once a week with some kids on our corner over the summer. Our au pair was friends with their nanny.  I remember before our au pair left she said, "Please make sure they still play!" And I said of course; I meant it. I tried to keep the connection. I really did. I waved when we saw them. I texted a few times. Just the other week we texted and she said we'd get the kids together, she'd look at the calendar and I never heard back. And every day my little girl would ask, "Are we going to play with them today?" And everyday I would explain I hadn't heard back yet and we couldn't really just show up. We saw them the other day, with their parents. There was a block party and we stayed for as long as we could but it was awkward. Do the kids not love our little girl the way they should? WHY NOT? I don't understand it. How can her little heart get it? The parents have their friends. The kids have theirs. And our little girl just wants a god damn best friend. Awk.WARD. We left that day and on the way home she realized she didn't really say goodbye. She.lost.her.mind. How do you tell your hurting little, tantrum throwing, girl that they just aren't that into her. 

Heart.Wrenching.

Yesterday, she got home from school. We asked the normal questions, "How was your day? What did you do?" The ball & chain mentioned to me she seemed near tears. She was sad. I tried to talk to her, but she said she didn't want to talk about it. 

A little while later, quietly, she started to tell a story. Timid. Scared to tell me. 

"Will* said he wasn't my friend, anymore. And then I asked Timmy* and he told me that maybe he was still my friend."

And.I.Die.

Not in a cute, isn't that adorable kind of way. 

Today she came home. I asked the normal questions "How was your day? What did you do?" I had to ask. "How were things with Will?"

She started to tell me. Timid. Scared to tell me. 

"I told him I was sorry... cause I asked him a million times. Why won't you be my friend? Cause I don't understand." 

How in the hell do I help her? How can I protect her from this disappointment? At the very least, help her deal with this sadness. I certainly can't handle it, how can her little heart? 

*Names have been changed to protect the stupid bastards from MY best friends. Even if they may or may not be 5 years old.

How many questions does a 4 year old ask each day?

The average 4 year old has NOTHING on ours.

My kid is above average. Every day I am reminded of that fact.  Especially with the questions. OH for the love of the questions.  Sometimes she asks so many questions that she confuses herself. Sometimes she knows she has asked too many questions in succession that she raises her hand in hopes that requesting permission to ask another damn question will get that question answered.  Sometimes she asks questions just to ask questions; she KNOWS the answer to the question. "What's this?" as she points to her lunch which consists of a sandwich - she knows what it is. 

Oh the questions. How it usually goes is any word or statement she doesn't know or even those that she does will lead into a downward spiral of the never ending question game. Example?

Ball&Chain: "Is it bad that the goal of the day is to do nothing?"
L: "Is what bad?"
Ball&Chain: "If the goal of the day is to do nothing."
L: "Why is that bad?"
Me: "That's what' Daddy's asking, is it bad that it's the goal of the day?"
L: "What a goal?"
Ball&Chain: "An achievement." {At this point, he tags out}
L: "What's an achievement."
Me: "It's a goal. {disorientated by the word puzzle we have going at this point}  
L: {silently confused, I'm sure she's trying to formulate another question.}
Me: "Something you work for - like your stickers? When you get 20 stickers and then you get a prize? Getting 20 stickers is the goal."
L: "Oh. When can I have another sticker?"
Me: "When you earn it."
L: "What are we doing today??"
Me: "I don't know, other than nothing? Maybe being quiet?"
L: "Sure! Why?"
Me: {bashes head against wall}

And then I said to myself, "Self - if history repeats itself - you are doomed."

I have this memory of a girl scout trip, when I was younger. I'm going to guess 4th grade. I could call my mom on this one and get the details, but I'll tell you what I've pieced together. {Warning: this story is likely going to zig zag. But if you stay with me (read it slowly and not scoff at the possibility you may need to re-read) and follow me - it's going somewhere.}

Anyway, I was young - a little kid.  We were going out on boats - it might have been a school trip maybe not girl scouts? There were canoes.  I was friends with sisters, they were twins  (well they still are- that's how that works) and I wanted to sit next them or be in their boat (if you can't tell it's a little foggy).  Innocently enough, the boat was full or perhaps they were like, "Hell no we won't sit next to you." Either way, my feelings were horribly hurt and I'm fairly certain I cried about it. Like wailed and freaked out about it.  I was always a pretty sensitive kid. This story is just one freak out moment I had (of many).  Things upset me. Big or small - it was always a lot to me.

As the stories (still) go, I'd often find myself running to the bathroom at my grandparent's house, locking myself in the bathroom - you guessed it, crying. "She's so sensitive."  they would say.  Yeah, I'm sure it had nothing to do with the tension you could cut with a rusty knife, parents that clearly no longer liked each other or a grandmother that gave body issues & self esteem neurosis out instead of kisses.

Yeah, so I guess I'm sensitive and a wee bit sharp on the defensive.

The point is this: I felt things deeply and some might say out of proportion with the reality of the situation.

I remember having friends, but I also remember in middle school trying WAY too hard.  I remember being nervous (as I am now) when trying to make friends, or being awkward in social settings.  I never liked to feel left out, but often did.  I may not remember specific details, but I remember feeling sad beyond sad and gutted. All of these memories; why am I reliving them now?

L has started being more sensitive.  I see her putting important stock in the friendships she makes and how relationships go. I see how much she feels and how deeply she feels those feelings. She is sensitive to how we say things, what words mean and how they make her feel.  I see myself.* 

I barely survived adolescence - now I have to go through it again with not one but two daughters.

Somewhere in-between middle school and high school things started to shift.  Though it's around this time hormones kicked in so my sensitive woes turned into sharp tongued attitude.  I also remember my mom spouting something, I suspect I will (beyond my control) repeat: "I hope you have a daughter just like you - that gives you just the same crap you give me." Consider the curse underway, Mom. While things got (slightly) better, it wasn't until college that things leveled off for me.  In college I think I eventually found my way. As young adults do, they begin to find some sense of prospective. If history repeats itself? She isn't going to be off to find her way for another 15 years.*

I remain a sensitive person, but depending on the setting I (would like to think I) have better control over it.  In some sick twist of the universe (or curse, thanks again, Mom) ever since I had L I cry like the "good ol'days" at a drop of a hat.  At first it was the go to statement to say, "baby hormones." But years later? It isn't that, anymore. Now, when do I get hit the hardest? When my baby girl hurts. It's like that sad beyond sad and gutted feeling magnified beyond comprehension. She's (only) 4 people. I do not honestly know if I will make this.* 

*Read: I'm screwed.

A Child's Loss

Note: This post has been in the making - during my wee bit sabbatical as we tried to get things worked out - but it's a scar on my heart.

My baby is 3 and while she claims I can't call her "baby" any more, I do and I will. Try stopping me. My baby had her first loss and it breaks my heart tissue by tissue, muscle by muscle. 

We moved, we've been talking about moving for as long as we've known. Now, to be fair, we haven't known long - but we wanted to prepare her as much as we could. We knew the transition would be tough and we knew taking her from the only home, environment and schedule she's ever known would be hard. But can I tell you the truth? You say that - I say that and I MEAN it but when I really really think about it? How can you really tell what it will feel like? I knew it might be hard, but I didn't know it would be as hard as it was.  I didn't know her little memories, mind & feelings would come in the way they would and I didn't know I'd be able to see her pain in her face.

After leaving her house, her school & her friends I anticipated she would miss everything, but I don't know that I thought about how it would come about. Everyday, in any way - someone would come up.

I'd be making lunch - a salad and would add avocados... "You know who loves avocados? Patrick LOVES avocados!"
We'd be sitting on the hammock outside... "What color eyes to do you have? I have blue. You know who else has blue eyes, Elle has blue eyes like me."
We'd be eating dinner... "I miss my friends."

We'd be going food shopping... "Mama, I miss Noah's Ark. My friends. My teachers."

And sometimes in the middle of silence...  "Mama, what do you think the class is learning about today?"

{heart breaks}

We're doing what we can to help her cope with her loss. She wrote her class a letter the other day, we talk about how she'll make new friends, signed up her for camp and swim class and are looking into a new preschool in the fall. While she doesn't go to daycare, she still needs to be cared for during the workday, as we both work (full time).   We have an au pair again who is working out well.  She is working with the kid weekly to get involved in new activities, reading different books, scheduling play dates, and even worksheets to practice her writing, drawing and other educational games. The kid is 3, she will do just fine, but it doesn't hurt her (and by extension me or the baby's daddy) any less.

I hear it just gets worse, so that's awesome. Damn, this parenting thing is serious business.  How do you deal with heartbreaks - small and large, big kids and small? I don't know that I'm cut out for this... good thing we've already signed up for number 2! 

Failing Tests

Back when I was preggers with L, the nurse at my doctor's office had little hope I would pass my glucose test. Awesome.  To review, a glucose test is a routine test you get when you are knocked up.  You drink gawd awful flat, warm, thick syrup that is kind of tastes like cola or orange soda.  You wait 1 hour and then get your blood taken to see how your body broke down the glucose in the drink.  These levels in turn tells medical professionals if you have gestational diabetes. For those that either a) had irregular results with that first test b) Had gestational diabetes your first pregnancies or c) had a big baby (over 9 pounds) you "get" to take the test, for a second time. I didn't fall into any of those first couple of categories, but of course the last one I did - the big baby club.  10 lbs 14.8 ounces.  Almost 2 feet tall - thank you very much. I birthed a toddler, for God's sake. Proud of it.  Bad news (other than birthing a toddler) is being in the big baby club puts me at risk for gestational diabetes and needing to take another dang hour long glucose test.

Side note: It's important to note, I hate needles. Beyond my hate most people have a terrible time getting blood from me.  I apparently have the vein of a child.  When I was in the hospital delivering L, they had to call in the pediatric nurses who were used to and trained to set up IVs in children. Of course, the only small thing I get to have is stupid veins.

Glucose test, part two.  The day I planned to get the second test I had a weird situation happen. I woke up in the morning and couldn't put any weight on my left leg. I was getting out of bed, as I normally do, super early.  Mama can't hold 'it' for a full night's rest.  There I am first thing in the AM trying to get to the bathroom with only one leg.  I assure you, this was not a pretty sight. At one point I didn't know if I would need to crawl there or if an adult accident was in my near future.  The day I woke up without my left leg in full effect I was alone with the kid, had a deadline for a glucose test and needed to get packed and ready for a business trip. If it was safe to go, I would have to get on an airplane.  I needed to be ready to go and be able to walk. The details aren't really important other than: in the end, I am fine and overall it was shitty day.  It was a totally stressful day, to say the least. I woke up the next morning and after a few hours my leg started to be totally normal. I get it, that's totally whack but I expect nothing else. I figured, if I can walk, I can fly to my business meeting (Dad, my doctor said it was fine). Before I could get on with my plane, I had to go drink some flat, warm, thick syrupy soda. 

I took my test and got on the plane.  When I landed a message awaited me: "Your test came back irregular which tells us that you likely have gestational diabetes.  We'll need to get you scheduled for a three hour glucose test."  Most people who get back irregular tests come back for the three hour test and find they are in fact diabetic during the remainder of the pregnancy. Hooray. For the 3 hour test, you get to fast for 13 hours (only water) and stick around the office for 3 hours as they take my blood 4 times. Important to note: I hate needles.

I took the damn test and I failed the damn test. I got stuck with a needle 7 times only to find out this is just the beginning. What's that? Where did I get stuck with a needle 7 times when I said they take blood 4 times? OH that's because a sadistic woman took my blood and had to stick me 3 times to get one good line in at one point. I took the test on a Friday and got a call back on Monday with the 'good' word. In getting confirmation that I need to consult with Diabetes for Life, a great resource in the area (I will be shortly moving away from), I awaited a call to set up an appointment.  It took 4 days to be given an appointment with the office so for 4 days I googled my diet and prognosis. Awesome, health care system, awesome.

I knew I'd have to change my diet.  Based on what I researched, in some cases, there is finger pricking to check blood sugar. There are fun complications like even BIGGER babies (um. I'm hoping that 'bigger' is in terms of being relative to regular babies not 'bigger' than previous babies carried by mother who has the gestational diabetes).  Also in the how is that possible column: additional complications like increased swelling.

Good news / bad news? Good news: I "barely" have gestational diabetes. Seriously, a failed one of the three hour checks by 1 point and another by 2 or 3. If you score over the numbers they need you to be at 2 or more of the 4 level checks, boom. Gestational diabetes. After finding out I had irregular test results that put me within gestational diabetes fun land, I watched what I was eating but didn't make too many changes. What irritates me most about this diagnosis is with this pregnancy I eat 150% better than with L. It wasn't that I planed to eat like crap with her, it was just that crap was all I could eat.  This baby loves what I normally love - salad, vegetables, fruit.  The baby also loves pasta, Chinese food and burritos. What? It's part my kid... why wouldn't (s)he like all that I like? I missed my ice cream that week, but after minimal diet changes my test results were .2 away from a "normal" pregnant person's levels. The specialist I met with said my diabetes is basically 'negligible.'  There will be a slim to none chance of needing insulin since my levels are so close to normal - as long as I stay like that. When the nurse told me I would have to check my sugar levels 4 times a day though? You would have thought she was telling me I was leaving a limb at the office. I cried, laughed, teared through the laughing and cried again. Important to note: I hate needles.

Turns out the checking my levels isn't that bad - the prick doesn't hurt and I've actually been able to eat pretty much normally. Being able to check (when I wake up and 2 hours after each meal) I get to see that I'm fine. Sure with all that's going on, I could stand to not think about how many carbs or sugars I'm about to take in and then remembering to take my blood and record the results 2 hours after eating a meal. But I'm fine, we're fine.  I already have swelling, I already birth big babies and lord knows I don't need to go through the next few months on a carbo load. I'm fine.

It's a Kitchen, not a Buffet

The bottom line on our parenting philosophy usually comes down to "whatever it takes." That said, there are SOME things we are pretty inflexible with, no matter what it would take.

Before proceeding, if you are going to be judgey, stop here. You may suffer in silence but I don't really want to hear how this is the wrong way to do it - unless you are prepared for me to come back to YOU on all the things that I feel you are doing wrong.  That said, I try not to think one way is the wrong way or the right way.  The disclaimer on that is I think we know the best way for our family. I'm somewhat wish I was open to suggestions, if you are. 

A wise friend of mine usually says, "it's a kitchen, not a restaurant" but I think I'm going with buffet.  We don't have a lot of rules in our house, but when it comes to eating and dinner we are trying to hold true to one.  You eat what we are eating or you are not eating. Some (all grandparents that are currently connected to the kid) may think this makes me us cold hearted snakes, but I assure you I am not the only true believer in this wonderful cause.  Is it fail proof? Hells to the no, what is?

Currently Halloween candy is making dinner dreams come true. Instead of the threat of starvation, the fact that with out eating most everything there is no treat after dinner. It perhaps could be the end of the road, as the Halloween loot is running thin, but we'll work it out (AKA stock fridge with ice pops).  It's not that we want to dictators, sometimes she gets a choice for dinner.  When we are eating something that wouldn't be cruel and unusual punishment (see chili or salad night after night) she has no choice. She has some choices any day. She can (usually) have any vegetable and any fruit to nosh on.  We are lucky, she likes the good stuff.  Where we run into issues is she could probably live on bread and butter or pasta and ... you guessed it butter.  Would it be the end of the world to make pasta every night? No. It's just not happening. What happens when there is more than one? I am no short order cook, hell I don't even cook.

The Binky Fairy Came and All She Left Me Was Debt

Last Night as a Two Year Old

Last night with a binky!

We decided the Binky Fairy would come on L's third birthday and take her binkies.  That's been the plan for at least a year, after we bagged the whole at two she would give them up. This year, we've talked about it daily, reminding her. In retrospect, it is kind of cold of us.

Writing a Letter to the Binky Fairy

Happy Birthday Girl! NOW. A crazy lady is going to come to our house and take something you love dearly. Happy Birthday! Go to bed in a tantrum!

After school, we came home and ran around the house collecting all of her binkies... there were a LOT. We made an envelope together, she wrote her a note, we stuffed all her binkies in the envelope and put it in the mailbox. I don't know where I heard someone saying their kid was scared of some strange woman coming into his room, fair enough. I decided to bypass that all together. Plus I am not graceful so why even attempt to sneak in and get the envelope if I didn't need to.

"Mama. This is FUN!"

L thinking this is all a GREAT idea, at this point!

Friends told me the binky fairy left a 'big boy/girl' present and the kid was psyched.  Unfortunately I didn't think of that in time nor did I have time to make that happen. Plus, it's her birthday, and we are having a birthday party for her on Saturday so I just kind of figured more 'crap' could wait. Also, she won't know any different - she isn't on Facebook, she doesn't know what the 'other kids' got.  I decided we'd just celebrate on the porch when we discovered the fairy came. Friends said to leave 'fairy dust' which was another thing I forgot. Someone suggested to use baby powder - but since that kid knows her baby powder I decided to scrap the whole thing and pretend the gold sparkley paint on the inside of the mailbox would do.


Fast forward through a slight tantrum at night and sound sleep through out - she wakes up and is ready to go check out the mailbox to see if her binkies are gone. I lifted her up (my mailbox is high) and pointed out the sparkly fairy dust.  She was so excited. She was amazed to see the envelope was gone.  She literally had her jaw drop and whispered, "ooh mee gaaad."  She reached around the mailbox to confirm that the bulky envelope was in fact gone.

Much to my surprise she pulled something OUT of the mailbox. Apparently I forgot to take out all the mail yesterday and there was a lone Citibank statement in the mailbox. 

She squealed "MAMA, LOOK!"  I put her down on the ground and quickly tried to come up with a story.  Before I could say anything (and this is NOT an exaggeration) she hugged the statement and said, "Mama. It's SOOO beautiful."

Ah the simple things. I quickly decided that the statement was in fact a letter from the Binky Fairy and since we were running late for school (which was another lie, because for the first time in forever we were going to be EARLY), we had to go now and couldn't read the letter. We'd read the letter after school! It turns out the letter will send L on a scavenger hunt for her big girl present since I am a sucker and she is too cute.

Self, Get Ready For The Ride Of Your Life

There are many reasons I love social media. I could count the ways. It's true.  Social media and the (obsessive) use of the computer has (perhaps) contributed to my suffering spelling, my distractions and my obsessions.  It has also opened my eyes and heart, kept me in the loop with world news (some say sad, but it is true) and introduced me to hilarious and meaningful expressions of life. 

Today, I need to call attention to a gift social media gave me. Reflections of Motherhood - produced by Nummies.com. Go check them out. 


They asked moms if they could go back to right before they had their first child what would they tell themselves?  Check out the video and come back, won't you? 

Good stuff right? NO. 

Fan.Freaking.Tastic. 

When I laughed: Google doesn't have children.

When I teared: You are about to meet true love.

If I could go back I would give myself a talking to. It would go a little like this. 

Self, there are a lot of things I want you to know. I don't know where to start, though I know the questions you think you want to know. Like when is this going to end, is it going to be as bad as I think and for the love of God will I get my ankles back.  The answers are: Not soon enough: insist on a C section, tell them you want to schedule that sht like Britney Spears - you're welcome, yes, and yes. I know what you want to know, seeing as I am you - but there are things I need you to know. 

1. It WILL be ok, even when you think it won't be. 
2. Get ready to floored, what "they" say about not feeling anything like the love of a child, it's better. You'll never feel this kind of love, fear, happiness, frustration, freedom, you name it - you didn't even KNOW what it was before.
3. Get ready to weep. You thought you had a quick trigger on the tears before? Nope. 
4. You are right. They are wrong. No matter how many children they raised, they haven't raised yours. 
5. Don't panic. You're going to be great, even when you think you aren't. You're the best Mama she will ever have. 

What about you? What would you tell yourself before you became a mother or a father?