motherhood

Unplugged (Mostly)

I read a lot of parenting articles. Recently, I read an article that encouraged not letting kids play in dirt, and definitely not to let them get buried in sand. I realize that strange things can happen. I’m not a doctor. The following is unsolicited, unprofessional advice: Let the kids play outside! Common sense says kids need to be in nature (unless severe allergies tell you otherwise). USNews says (regarding electronic devices) “increased screen time is associated with higher rates of childhood obesity, behavior problems, ADHD, poor sleep quality, poor physical activity and poor school performance.” What better way to get kids off of the couch than to take them outside? According to the same article, parents need to lead by example- because our kids are watching. Really, adults need to play outside and unplug too! Your body and mind will thank you.

Lake Superior at Whitefish Point

Over the last couple weeks we were able to escape from the land of wifi. We got lost in a mixed terrain of fresh air and campfire smoke. We dodged mosquitos, got dirty, and caught frogs.

We swung from trees and floated weightlessly in the Tahquamenon River.

Fun fact: The Tahquamenon Falls in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula are nicknamed the “Rootbeer Falls” because of the coppery brown color; which is actually due to the tannin from decaying trees, cedar swamps and other organic matter that leach into the river.

Tahquamenon Falls courtesy of my brother-in-law, Ryan.

We also floated down the Two-Hearted River. Since I’m on a fun fact trivia kick… did you know that Ernest Hemenway was inspired by his time spent in Michigan? One of his books is actually named Big Two-Hearted River.

Where the Two-Hearted River meets Lake Superior

But the best thing about this area isn’t the floating, the idyllic rustic campground, or the picture perfect swaying footbridge. It’s all of the rocks. Seriously. Looking for agates and skipping smooth flat stones (trying to anyway) is just good family fun. I’m sure Hemenway would have agreed.

You know what else is good family fun? Scrabble. Ok, the kids aren’t interested. But my sister and I had an epic battle. It lasted for hours. And I will give her this satisfaction: she got a seven letter word on a triple word score. You can make your own assumption about who won.

Equally as impressive is this skillet; which covered the entire stovetop and cooked 5 pounds of bacon at one time.

Since we’re on the topic of food, my five-year-old decorated this cake. That’s my boy! (It was actually granny’s idea, inspired by Pinterest.) A perfect kitchen project for kids: Slice an angel food cake into three layers. Blend a mixture of marshmallow cream and Cool Whip to spread on the layers, top with berries. Let your child feel like a successful pastry chef.

While we’re on the subject of good ideas… I’d like to take a moment to give credit to a couple of dads who made a movie theater in the woods with a projector, a camouflage tarp, a white bed sheet, and some Gorilla Tape.

We ate drippy ice cream cones, and took long walks. We lost our front tooth, well one of us did. And we found out that if you put your tooth under a pillow, even in a cabin in the middle of the woods… money will appear. We visited places off of the beaten path. I took random pictures of things I liked.

We topped the week off with more family and friends on the shore of Lake Michigan. We soaked up as much time in the sun as we could.

My phone was left with a dead battery for days. True story.

Aaah, yes… already looking forward to the next “unplugged.”

The Fabulous Life of a Mommy Blogger

It’s another lavishing day of the kids waking up to the waft of a fresh batch of scones, lemon curd and freshly squeezed orange juice while I relaxingly pick away on my laptop in my stylish home office, surrounded by mementos of my world travels and full of inspiration. I am halfway into my second cup of un-interrupted coffee poured from my press. I’ve got my French café music subtly drifting in the background, and my hair has once again has fallen perfectly into place. I’m pretty sure that in spite of my love of baking, the scale says I have dropped another 5 pounds. Bliss.

Errrr, no.

It’s the second morning in a row that my middle son has woken me up in the wee hours of the morning for various reasons… fever… bad dreams, etc. There is no room for him, since his baby brother is already in my bed, so to get him back in his bed I am demoted to the empty bunk. I’m exhausted. I am purposefully ignoring the alarm clock, because I don’t want to face the fact that in less than an hour I need to wake my oldest son and start the morning scramble to get everyone off to school on time. Everyone that is- except my daughter who has apparently caught the bug that her brother had just the night before. Note to self: make sure to call the school for an excused absence. Even with my best planning, it always seems like a lot of uninvited chaos in the morning. Did I mention it’s still snowing- in April? And so, I refuse to start the rat race until absolutely necessary.

I throw my hair up in my signature folded pony tail/half-bun thing. (Is that an appropriate hairstyle for someone in their 40’s?) I refuse to step on any scale- I know the truth. After the mad rush, which results in a meal of cereal and milk (nothing out of the oven), I grab a high protein granola bar for myself and take my first drink of coffee. I decide to put off the day’s round of dishes and laundry, and really attempt to jot a few things down for my blog at the highly kid-accessible kitchen table full of remnants of breakfast and action figures. It’s right about the time when I get cooking- figuratively, when the patient needs water… the potty trainer needs assistance in the bathroom… both kids need a snack… you know the drill.

And it is after all of this time, when I feel comfortable sitting at the computer again knowing that my daughter has had a bite to eat and medicine for her small grade fever; and that her baby brother should be both satisfied with his hunger and “emptied out” for the time being when he brings me a piece of poop that he has reserved for his big boy underpants after just going to the bathroom 10 minutes prior. Because I am who I am, I freak out holding his hand high into the air in my most sanitary march into the bathroom. The “piece” is disposed of and his hands scrubbed. His pants are placed in the dirty clothes basket and underwear thrown away. (I am not going to try and spot clean this.) We have the discussion about placing all the poo into the potty and I sit down thrice more. It takes only a few seconds this time for him to retrieve a second piece of poop to which now I realize was not from a butt scratching, but a separate pile that was actually mounded onto the floor. To make matters more complicated, it is also clear that he has stepped in the pile and traipsed it through… that’s a good question. This in turn results in another hand scrubbing, a foot scrubbing, a second lesson about not touching poop, and a new teaching on telling mommy where the poop is. I then mop the floor from the toy room, through the living room and all the way through the bathroom- including a little spot cleaning the living room rug. Did I get it all? I really don’t know. I’ll probably come unglued the next few times one of my kids tries to eat a fallen snack from off of the floor. (I’m a work in progress). However, I did gain writing material… Fabulous. I’ll take it.

Kawasaki’s Disease

I had already rescheduled the dentist appointments for my two oldest children, I didn’t want to miss them again. My parents had offered to come and sit with my other two kids for the afternoon, so keeping the appointments wouldn’t be a problem. All was going according to plan- except that the baby had been running a fever for the last 48 hours. This being my fourth child, I’m accustomed to the occasional viruses. Still, the fever was persistent- reaching over 104° and even remaining at around 102° after a dose of Tylenol. The day before, I had started alternating with Motrin and Tylenol to try and keep it under control. My concern started to grow when I realized that after taking the Motrin, Noah was consistently breaking out into hives. If you have followed my blog for any length of time, you know that allergic reactions are very common with him  (Allergy Induced Eczema). But this was new, he had taken Motrin before without a problem. What a terrible time to develop a new allergy! However, understanding that even the color of the dye could have triggered a reaction, I had asked my husband to bring home something other than the orange colored Motrin we were using on his way home from work. But the new purple color didn’t seem to be any better as I noticed new hives on his cheek and legs within 10 minutes of the dose… yet, in spite of the hives, the Motrin seemed to be the only thing that was keeping his fever down. And now, on top of everything else, it appeared that he was getting pinkeye… and one side of the back of his neck was really swollen. So, while I stayed home that night with the other children, my husband took Noah on an evening trip to the local urgent care.

While at urgent care, Noah tested negative for strep throat, but due to the nagging fever and swollen lymph node on his neck, the doctor treated him for it anyway- assuming it would show up positive in the lab where they would be sending it out. He prescribed him an antibiotic and sent him home. Having an answer and medication obviously gave me peace of mind and I thought surely by the time the dentist appointments came rolling around the next afternoon, he would be feeling better. But when my parents arrived he wasn’t improving. He was lethargic and miserable. His eyes were extremely red, his swollen lymph node was getting bigger. He had thrown up his antibiotic and later his Tylenol. I called his pediatrician to let them know what was going on and to ask if I could try aspirin for the fever, since he was clearly having allergic reactions to the Motrin. The office nurse advised me not to, for fear of Reyes disease, but suggested the standard lukewarm bath… and to take him to the hospital if the fever got any higher. After a short discussion with my parents, we decided that it would be more comfortable for everyone if they took the two kids to their appointments, and I stayed home with the baby and my other son. I could tell he was getting sleepy, and I thought after they left and things calmed down, I’d try another attempt at a dose of Tylenol.

As soon as they walked out the door, I decided to take his temperature. I didn’t want to disturb his rest, but he hadn’t fallen asleep yet and I thought I had better try now, so I wouldn’t have to wake him later. I readied a dose of Tylenol and swiped his forehead. The thermometer read105.5! None of my kids had ever registered a fever that high. I panicked. I ran him upstairs and into a lukewarm bath. I told my 4 year old to keep talking to him while I began to pack a bag. He was so sluggish, I was afraid that he might even lose consciousness. Why was he allergic to Motrin now? I always pray, but I started pleading out loud to God. Why? Why hadn’t God just taken away his fever? I had prayed He would. I knew He could. I couldn’t even think of what to pack… a change of clothes… a couple diapers… that ready dose of Tylenol… I grabbed some loose clothing to dress the baby and headed downstairs. I was fearful and teary when I put the boys in the car. “Just keep talking to your brother” I told my son as I tried to concentrate on driving to the hospital. I called my parents to tell them to come back. “Meet me at the hospital” I told them.

(Side note: My 4 year old was incredible; soothing and calm. He kept his brother’s attention while being keenly aware of my fear and desperation. I couldn’t be more proud.)

Now, not to name names, I hate that local hospital. But they were the closest, and I gave them the benefit of the doubt that they could handle a fever and assumed they would obviously have more options of treatment than my failed Tylenol and Motrin. While waiting in triage, I had stripped his clothing and placed damp cloths on his head arms and legs. They took his temperature and it read around 101°. I asked the nurse if that was possible, for the temperature to have dropped that much after a lukewarm bath? She said it was, but decided to take a rectal reading for more accuracy. It was still over 103°, and his whole face was starting to swell, but still I was feeling optimistic: his temperature was down and we were in a place with professionals that could help. Shortly thereafter, my mother came in and took my other son out to the car with my dad and two other children. He would take them back to my house while she stayed with me. I called my husband to let him know what was happening, and he told me he was leaving work and on his way. But soon my optimism began turning to frustration. Call it “mother’s intuition”, or even common sense, but we were left the next 25+ minutes without anyone checking on my son or administering any attempt at a fever reducer. I could tell by the way he was acting that his it was starting to spike. When my husband arrived, I asked him to get the Tylenol from my car. Thank God I had thought to grab it! I had nothing to lose by trying, and in a triumphant effort, he was able to keep the medicine in his system without throwing up. It had now been about about a total of over 45 minutes since we had seen a nurse or anyone. After about 15 more minutes (of now pure neglect) I felt confident that he had enough medicine in his system to get him to Children’s Hospital, about a 30 minute drive further.

When we arrived to Children’s Hospital I was relieved. I knew we would get help. His fever was now hovering at around 102° (and his face was swollen to almost unrecognizable) while we explained to triage, nurses and eventually doctors what had been happening. I told them everything: the fever, the pinkeye, the swollen lymph node, the trip to urgent care, treatment for step, the antibiotic, the hives and seemingly new allergy to Motrin. The ER doctor explained how they would be doing an X-ray and an MRI, looking at the possibility of an infected lymph node or cyst. They started an intravenous antibiotic since he couldn’t keep medicine down. They tested his mucous for different strains of flu. As results started coming in and ruling things out the doctor would give us updates. It wasn’t an infected lymph node… his SED rate and white blood cell count were high… it could be an infection elsewhere… it wasn’t flu… we need to check his urine for bacteria… I loved the attention to detail, attention to my sick baby. (Thank you nurse Melissa.) With Noah in good hands, I was mostly worried about how I was I going to be able to treat future fevers… I mean I don’t have anything else in my fever-fighting arsenal except Tylenol and Motrin!

As the results kept coming in, the ER doctor would give us updates. She explained the MRI, the X-ray, some of the labs… and that some of the labs wouldn’t be in until tomorrow. Because they had tested for some things that came back questionable, they wanted to do further testing, just to be sure they didn’t miss anything. “Sure,” I thought, “Absolutely.” And then she mentioned that although rare, she just couldn’t rule out the possibility of Kawasaki’s Disease. “Uh-huh, ok,” I nodded. I really thought it was just protocol, the physician being thorough. I was convinced it was a just a virus, a double whammy with a case of pinkeye and an unsettling new allergy. She could have said “It’s possible your son is part alien,” and I would have given it as much attention. Understanding that I had no clue as to what Kawasaki’s Disease was, she jokingly suggested that I don’t google it. She went on to explain that the fever was definitely a symptom. (But fevers often are symptom to everything right?) She mentioned that the unilateral swollen lymph node (a less common characteristic of the disease) was significant in that usually with bacterial infections, such as strep, there is bilateral lymph node swelling (both sides). The pinkeye was definitely a trait of the disease. (But of course with 4 kids, I had seen pinkeye before.) She was very clear that it was too early to determine, but went on (for our knowledge) to describe it as an autoimmune disease where the body attacks the medium-sized tissue. The membranes, the soft tissue in the nose and eyes, are affected but most dangerously it affects the arteries to the heart. Therein lied the reason why she clarified that it was important to determine. If left untreated, the repercussions could be fatal down the road. Now she had my complete attention. The infected person could have coronary heart disease and ultimately a heart attack in their early 20’s. She compared it to your antibodies being Pac-man, chomping up the bad cells; but then it’s like they get so proud of themselves doing such a good job getting rid of all of the bad, that they start to attack everything in their sight and consequently attack the good. She reiterated that it is rare, but she couldn’t rule it out- not yet. He had some classic symptoms, like those red hands. She asked when we noticed the red hands. Red hands? I hadn’t noticed. Oh my goodness. Sure enough, it looked like someone had dipped his hand in red Kool-Aid. What? When did that happen?

According to www.heart.org:

Kawasaki’s Disease: Named after Dr. Tomisaku Kawasaki, a Japanese pediatrician, the disease has probably been in existence for a long time, but was not recognized as a separate entity until 1967. The incidence is higher in Japan than in any other country. In the United States it is more frequent among children of Asian-American background, but can occur in any racial or ethnic group.

The disease has been reported worldwide and in the United States it is the most common cause of acquired heart disease in children. In recent years, it has tended to occur in localized outbreaks, most often in the winter or early spring, but is seen year-round. Kawasaki disease almost always affects children; most patients are under 5 years old, and the average age is about 2. Boys develop the illness almost twice as often as girls.

The heart may be affected in as many as one of four children who develop Kawasaki disease. Damage sometimes occurs to the blood vessels that supply the heart muscle (the coronary arteries) and to the heart muscle itself. A weakening of a coronary artery can result in an enlargement or swelling of the blood vessel wall (an aneurysm). Infants less than 1 year old are usually the most seriously ill and are at greatest risk for heart involvement. The acute phase of Kawasaki disease commonly lasts 10 to 14 days or more. Most children recover fully.

Cause

The cause of Kawasaki disease is unknown. It does not appear to be hereditary or contagious. Because the illness frequently occurs in outbreaks, an infectious agent (such as a virus) is the likely cause. Sometimes more than one child in a family can develop Kawasaki disease, which may indicate a genetic predisposition for the disease.

We learned it’s a clinical diagnosis. There is no test that can positively identify you have Kawasaki’s Disease. And they still don’t know what causes the disease. The best guess is that there are environmental triggers, and only those who have the sensitivity to those triggers will react. They know it is more common in boys, even more so to Japanese boys, and specifically ages 2-5. The symptoms include a high and persistent fever usually lasting 10 days, red eyes, irritability and discomfort, occasionally the single swollen lymph node, the high white blood cell count… If they can mark about 5 things off of the checklist, especially in the absence of other possible solutions, then the diagnosis is made. After the diagnosis is made, quick treatment is preferred; the sooner treated, the less chance of unfavorable outcome.

By the next morning, Noah was diagnosed with Kawasaki’s Disease. There is no conclusive test or cause, but thankfully there is a cure. They discontinued the administration of antibiotics (they are not effective on the disease.) He was given an EKG and echocardiogram to determine any current damage and for future comparison. He started IV IG, Immunoglobulin therapy, within hours of the diagnosis. It was going to be a long process- on a normal administration it could take approximately 17 to 21 hours depending on how quickly they could ramp up the dosage. However, he had an allergic reaction to the initial treatment. After uncontrollable body shaking they had to stop. The next morning, with a few hours of rest, it was pertinent to try again. Through persistent 104° fevers, body aches, the newly-developed skin peeling (another signature Kawasaki’s Disease trait), and all-around misery he completed the full round of IV IG treatment. We were told there was about a 95% success rate after completion. To be given an approval for success he needed to be fever-free a certain amount of (maybe 6) hours. He wasn’t. And so, we started the process again- this time with a 99% rate of success. If he persisted to have a fever… the doctor gave us a couple options of how we could proceed. But I am thankful to say we never needed those options. The second treatment was effective. We gave him excessive but necessary amounts of prescribed aspirin (forget about Reyes Disease). We followed up with his cardiologist and he has been given a clean bill of heart health. As a precaution, before he starts sports, we will follow up again with a cardiologist when he reaches the age of ten.

Why does anyone have to suffer anything? I don’t know. But during all of the hours (and my 40th birthday) spent at the hospital, I had a lot of time to think about all that had transpired. By the second evening I had concluded it was nothing short of a miracle that he had developed an “allergic reaction” to the Motrin. I thought about myself in the beginning of the whole ordeal- in desperation crying out to God, about why now with this high fever Noah had developed a new allergy to the only thing that helped his fever. And how now with a clearer understanding, I was thanking God for the reaction! …One of those Unanswered Prayers song type of things. If I had kept his fever down with Motrin, I’m sure I would have spent days trying to treat strep throat with an antibiotic. It’s likely I would have thought he also was also fighting a virus… that would have explained the rash. I’m sure I wouldn’t have thought twice about the pinkeye- not initially, when time is of the essence. Kawasaki’s Disease wouldn’t have crossed my mind. Usually, the diagnosis of the disease is made around day 5 of the fever. We started treatment at about 3½- because of an “allergic reaction to Motrin.” God was with me through it all. I was (and am) in awe of His faithfulness.

Coincidentally, (because we hadn’t had enough fun) within a week my daughter began to have high fevers, a slight rash and red eyes. Of course we took her directly to Children’s Hospital. Obviously, I was heightened to the possibility of Kawasaki’s Disease. We were assured when we brought Noah home that the disease was not contagious, however, the possibility of them both being exposed to the same environmental triggers was not out of the question. Turns out she had the Adenovirus… and pinkeye. Who’d da thunk?

I should mention that these events took place last year. Oh and interestingly enough, Noah is not allergic to Motrin.

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All of this Life

My daughter’s birthday was over the weekend, sandwiched in between two separate family funerals (and a soccer lesson). It’s one of those delicate parenting moments. Of course you want your children to feel they are safe and secure while acknowledging the reality of loss… You still want your child to feel special on their birthday. So as life goes on, you are pressing dress shirts for your sons to wear to a showing, and explaining to your 4 year old how we are related to those who have passed. You need to make sure your daughter has her 22 snacks to bring on her appointed day to her kindergarten class. It’s important that your 5th grader still gets his homework done. And when you realize on one of the evenings you are too exhausted to stay up with him, you have to make sure you write the teacher a note explaining you’ve been to a funeral and ask for another day to make it up. (Then, if you’re like me, you judge yourself for not planning your timing better.) I am in remembrance that it was about this time last year that I lost one of my best friends, Barbara. I miss her. And sometimes all of this life feels like it’s coming and going so fast.

You try to keep it in perspective, right? It’s a balancing act. I have so much to be thankful for: My children are healthy. My two year old is having the longest period ever of clear skin on his face, and we haven’t been to ER in over a month. We made it through the last asthmatic attack right at home! We are warm, even though it is snowing outside… because I managed to locate two AA batteries to put in our digital thermostat that stopped working. We have food on our table… Which reminds me someone still needs to pick up the birthday cake…

What would I do without my support group?

My husband? Who takes the day off of work to attend my great-aunt’s funeral with me. And exits with my 2 year old when he claimed to have pooped during the service. Diapers still need to be changed.

My parents? …Who offer to pick up the cake and bring it to the party. Who say, “Do you and the kids have something to wear to the funeral? Do you need us to come watch the kids so you can go shopping?” I still have to get dressed.

And I realize that I have loved ones who just lost a mother, an aunt, a sister, a grandmother… It’s a time of reflection, grief, appreciation… But you can’t just stop. There are still wishes to be made.

Through all of the uncertainty that’s going on in our country, in the media, in our families, in our homes… You realize the significance of family and the strength in love. And sharing that love.

Hugs help.

At times, I know we all feel like we are in a wind tunnel… a storm with things coming at us from every direction. Sometimes, it’s really hard to navigate. My advice? To myself? Remember this is temporary…

Look for the good. Be the good.

Love.

Happy Birthday Naomi! Mommy loves you!

Laundry Day

You know when it’s time to do laundry… but you woke up feeling like you’re just zapped and you have done all of the laundry that you are ever going to do? But then somehow you doubtfully convince yourself that you will feel better tomorrow. Then the next day comes around and you’ve got an attitude about it, and you’re like “There is no way I am doing laundry today.” So when day four approaches you have to prioritize, and you say to yourself “We are out of bread and milk, I can’t do the laundry! I have to go to the grocery store- like now!” Then on day 6 you look at the mountain of laundry and admit defeat. And you’re kind of depressed because you know in your heart of hearts that you can’t possibly do all of that laundry. That’s it, your kids are never going to have clean clothes again. And you’re at least thankful that one of them just had a birthday because they should get like two more good days. It’s about the next day when you just have to suck it up, because giving up is really not in your nature; so you do like 10 loads in one day? Well, I would have no idea what that is like.

Okay, I lied. I wrote this about me.

Loving Lately ?

Loving lately: Clothes Recycling
I love getting rid of stuff. Decluttering is like the best part of organization; which I think is directly related to my good mental health. 


I’m a part of this very well orchestrated system of clothes recycling. In a group of friends of mine, I have the oldest son and my sister has the oldest daughter. It all kind of branches out and braids back in from there. 


I pass the outgrown clothes of my oldest son to my sister’s son and likewise she passes her daughter’s clothing to my daughter. Then when her son outgrows the attire, they get passed back to my third child, my second son. After that, it starts to get fun because when my second son gets too big for his wardrobe, it is passed to my sister’s sister-in-law, Annie’s oldest son. 


When he’s finished they get pass back to my back fourth baby and final son. Anything that is worth passing, which always seems like a lot because things are always being added, gets moved to my sister’s other sister-in-law, Erica’s baby boy. I also pass anything from my daughter to Erica’s oldest child and daughter. 

She passes those close back to Annie who has a baby girl. And I’ll admit I feel very good about our system, because everything gets good use. For those of you keeping track, that is a total of 10 boys and girls. 


The kids have clothes. It’s a blessing. It’s also a big head ache. My basement is like a storage unit. I could probably use a better labeling system. But the best part of my organizational day is when I pass my only daughter’s or my last son’s clothing on- because I know they’re never coming back. What Annie and Erica do with the clothing after that, I don’t care. Good riddance! And sure there might be a day when I’m’s stricken with grief for times gone past about my kids who are all grown up and don’t fit into those baby clothes anymore. 

But today’s not that day. Today is the day I pass on totes or large plastic bags or even a little grocery bags with stuff that I don’t have to see again or at least isn’t taking up space in a drawer for a child who can no longer wear it.
(Healthy sigh of relief)

And thank you to my brother-in-law, Ryan, for many of these adorable pictures of all the clothed children.

Visions of Grandeur – Confessions of a Stay-at-Home Mom

I love my family. I love my children. I love that we, as a family, have the opportunity for me to stay-at-home. I never want to take that for granted. That said, I have more to give! Ok that’s an overstatement, I’m exhausted. Maybe it is more accurate to say I desire to do more.

I don’t want to quit my day job. I don’t want to give up my nights and weekends, sacrificing our only all-member family time, for a part-time job. But I do want a connection to the outside world. As of late, that yearning has lead me down a path of expression through blogging; writing and dabbling in the art of photography- specifically food photography. I’m inspired to write short stories, mostly in the form of plays and dialogues- but first I need to get the kids on the bus. It’s the regular routine of changing the baby’s diaper, making breakfast, packing lunches, cleaning up breakfast, getting the kids dressed (or checking what they have dressed themselves in), inspecting teeth, braiding hair, etc. It’s a sigh of relief when the oldest two out of four are on the bus and on their way fully prepared.

Now would be a great time to enjoy a cup of coffee and jot down that funny thought I had earlier! What was that line again? …But realistically, first I should probably start the dishwasher anyway. That reminds me I have a load of dish towels in the dryer. Crap, the dish towels are still in the washing machine. I need to bring this load of boys clothes upstairs so I can dry the dish towels. “Kids, we’re going upstairs.”

Laundry, my nemesis. They say write about what you know. How can I personify laundry? A dark, looming presence always growing in strength, a force my heroine has to face head on. A little dark maybe, but not untrue. Meanwhile in the real world, what is Noah playing with? It looks like he is in his sister’s jewelry box.

“Oh no, mom, you have to see this!” Elijah yells. Ah! Noah has painted his bangs with nail polish. Oh Noah, I’ve already cleaned up two large spills from you this morning! (Which meant his sister wasn’t on the bus fully prepared, because her baby brother swiped her water bottle -that he poured all over my comfy chair- as if I was going to sit down anyway).

“Noah, No!” I say realizing that at this point it’s not going to make a difference. Let’s get you into the tub. Where is my nail polish remover without acetone… “Stay here.” Okay, I’m back let’s get off that diaper. Plop! Are you kidding me? I just changed a poopy diaper 20 minutes ago!

“Don’t move!” Thankfully it’s in a tub right? (Optimism gets me through the day.) Poop has been transferred to the toilet, now to disinfect. Joys of motherhood. And finally, let’s get to that hair. That is not coming off. I can’t use acetone, this is too close to your eye. What am I going to do? Shave your head? Well, looks like you are going to live with it for a while.

I have a headache. “Everybody downstairs.” I am not doing laundry right now, someone has to keep an eye on the baby. Drats laundry, you win again.

“Yes, Elijah you can have your snack now.” While we’re in the kitchen I should get started on dinner. Crockpot dinner tonight! We need to eat early because Naomi has gymnastics. 

Still, somehow I know these are the best days of my life. I want to cherish every moment. A couple weeks ago, my then still 3 year old said when it was raining “maybe the clouds are crying” -a theory he discovered all on his own. A couple days later, my 5 year old daughter was not feeling well and misquoted a popular saying by explaining “I’m feeling over the weather.” People always say it goes by so fast, and I know it’s true. In the midst of it, it feels fleeting.

So, I am by choice a stay-at-home mom. Coincidingly, I realize the importance of “mommy time”, the need to preserve my sanity and identity. I still have goals! However for me, right now, it’s a necessity that takes a back seat to the priority of “being mommy”. As for my writing career, my prospective coffee shop, my strategy du jour; I’m still dreaming.

What’s Up: Summer’s End, School’s In & Photo Fixes

Summer vacation has finally come to an end. We spent our Labor Day weekend at Lake Michigan. Naturally we spent Labor Day itself getting the boys haircuts, buying last minute lunch boxes and finding new school shoes.

By the way, this is what little siblings, not going to school and still in their pajamas, do on the sidelines while camera crazy mom snaps 1 billion photos of the school kids waiting for the bus… (Do however notice the haircut and new shoes, not to be completely left out of all of the fun.)

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In blogging news I finally started to redo some old pictures- it’s part of my revamping plan. For example, my very first recipe was Jambalaya (sans Seafood). It’s one of our favorite family recipes and we probably eat it once a week. I didn’t even have a picture when I first posted it; then I found one on the internet; next I replaced it with my very own picture (much like the one I found on the internet); this week I took a couple different shots to try and replace my original.

The original:

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The almost replacement:

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The final replacement:

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I have no rhyme or reason for why I choose my photos. I usually try to poll my kids- if I can get their attention. I don’t have fancy lighting… or a studio… sigh.

In other exciting news (I understand that is relative, but I’m excited), I have been passed some new recipes that I will be sharing soon. My new “How to use my camera for Dummies” book has been delivered and I intend to practice my photography. I am looking forward to the blogging future! (As soon as I have a minute to write cook think.)

Featured image courtesy of my brother-in-law, Ryan French.

 

 

Mommy Blogging

If a picture is worth a thousand words; this is the my definition of mommy blogging. Something’s got to give in order to make it happen. 

Have a good weekend! (I’ll just be over here cleaning up…)

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When your 3 year old takes advantage of your open laptop…

So sorry!

But how could you get upset with this face? (Him taking selfies with my phone)