Happy Half Birthday to Gavin!

On Monday, Gavin celebrated his (sniff, sniff) half birthday (tear, tear, tear). He celebrated in his own way by popping his first tooth, sitting unassisted for about a minute, and popping up onto his knees and rocking a bit more than usual. Excuse me for a minute...

STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP GROWING PLEASE! I'M NOT READY!

Ahem, sorry. I had to clear my head. Like I was saying, my baby is growing up. We all love him dearly.

The anticipation is over.

Phew. After pining after my custom-made silk sling for two weeks now, the postal service finally got it together and delivered it. Gavin and I are happy to have an easy on and off sling to use when he's not ready to sleep for a couple hours, but still needs to be up away from his brothers.


I found a few other fun photos from the past several weeks that I thought I'd post, too.

Birthday dinner with Colleen and Abby at Dos Rios:


Jack's current favorite book, "In the Dark" (Berenstain Bears):


The Big and the Little:


Big shoes to fill:

It's official: negativity is out, positive thoughts are in.

Pity party over. I won the $1,000 for the biggest Farrell's transformation at our location. I was stunned. And grateful. And just bowled over. It makes me feel a little guilty that I ate chocolate chips nearly every night. But mostly it makes me feel thankful for the awesome team of coaches, instructors, and fellow kick-boxers who were all there, supporting one another, 6 days a week. It gives me strength to know that if I can keep working, even at my own pace, I'll accomplish that pre-baby weight eventually, and start feeling even better about myself. What could be better than ending a downer week with a night out alone with my husband, and coming home with a $1,000 check? And it doesn't hurt that I can stop feeling guilty about my lost sling, and just buy another ;)

Warning: self-indulgent shameless pity rant

Do you ever have one of those weeks where you try to see the silver lining of things, but you keep falling into a deep pit of self-pity? This is one of those weeks for me. No matter how hard I remind myself that things could be so, so much worse than my teeny little stresses, I can't help but feeling sorry for myself. I'm stuck in a cloud of negativity that I can't seem to shake. So I figure I just need to vent a little with the intent of getting it out, and eventually moving on. Please navigate away from this page if it disgusts you to hear someone complain about their mostly priviledged life.

Last week I bought myself an overly expensive, indulgent birthday gift-- a silk baby sling from a merchant who is renown for her awesome sewing skills. I was able to get the customized colors and accents that I wanted. In a phrase, "dream sling." I spent $100 (yes, indulgent). But I rarely buy anything for myself, and it was my birthday after all. So I went for it. Now, it seems, the post office has lost said sling. Now I'm kicking myself for spending so much on something I'll likely never see. And I'm still left without a sling that I can get on and off in a second, which I desparately need right now. Yet I hate to spend even one penny more (even on a super cheap one) since I already lost so much $$. I should've known that purchase was too good to come true.

Mike and I are stressed as individuals, and as a couple. He has battling IBS for over a year now, and though he has hope that the chiro and acupuncture treatments will bring him eventual relief, he remains in a state of discomfort. Being sick all the time makes one unhappy, which gives them a much shorter fuse for dealing with life's everyday anxieties. For us, those every day anxieties are dealing with three young kids. He's become pretty sickly on top of this, constantly ravaged with colds and chest congestion and sore throats.... it seems his body just can't get it together. And instead of being the most compassionate wife I can be, I find myself feeling increasingly resentful that I have to pick up the slack in our parenting partnership. I just want to scream, "When is my sick day??!" It's not his fault and he does an INCREDIBLE job of dealing with the kids when he needs to. Even dealing with them on days when I attempt to write the dissertation. But it's hard. No self time for either of us, no time together as a couple, and parents who can barely stay with the kids for an hour before calling us to come home because they can't manage their grandchildren. Add to this Mike's gluten and dairy free diet, and we've got a recipe for chaotic meal-planning and general unhappiness in our household.

Dissertation. Every month I swear I'll finish this last chapter by the end of the month and move into revisions. But with a sick husband, sitters who are out of town for spring break, and a mountain of other things that never get done, I'll be lucky to graduate by August. And at $1,000 for every additional semester I stay registered, this is getting pricey.

I just can't seem to swing this as a mother some days. I try to be the best parent I can be at any given moment, but it's never enough. Never enough positive attention for Jack, never enough one-on-one time for Gavin, and not enough arms to keep Benjamin from harming himself or others. These children are literally tearing apart our house. I've got holes in the wall of each room where they've pulled out curtain hold-backs. Benjamin has gotten up early from his naps and used his chest of drawers as a climbing device, succeeding in breaking off the runners of two drawers already. This bedroom set was supposed to be something they'd have through college (the crib turns into a double bed frame), and now it's in crappy shape.

I don't have time for a deep breath. I can't finish my magazine that arrived two weeks ago. I can't find time to read through the books on vaccination to help myself feel like I can make an informed decision on what to do and when for Gavin's vaccines, yet he has his appt. on Tuesday and I'm not anywhere near prepared for it yet. I need time. To finish a dissertation, to spend one on one time with each kid, to sit in a coffee shop and read magazines, books, to journal. To call friends I havne't called back in months. To clean the damn house. To exercise more and get rid of the last 10 lbs of baby weight. To feel happy again.

Uck. I want to shake out all the negativity. After all, my kid doesn't have cancer. *I'm* not the one in this family battling IBS. I may have lost $100 on a sling, but I did not lose my job or my insurance benefits. We have more than enough. I am blessed with three healthy children and a husband who loves me. We've enjoyed a 60 degree day yesterday and two lovely playdates this week. There are plenty of things to feel thankful for. I just need to keep this mantra until all the uck passes.

Subtlety goes out the door

So, when I was 29 I started dropping hints that I really, really wanted to have an excuse to get a chocolate mint cake from Carefree Patisserie in Valley Junction. I love, love, love chocolate mint and had tried their cupcakes in that flavor before. To. Die. For. They aren't cheap, but they are amazing and local. I figured that Mike would spring for one of these cakes for my 30th birthday. Nope.

So before my 31st birthday, I dropped a few more hints, and also told his co-worker (and our good friend) that I really want one of these cakes, thinking it would get through to him. Nope.

Perhaps after nearly 8 years of marriage, subtlety doesn't work anymore? So this year I took no chances. I told Jack what I wanted, and he started telling Mike about 3 times a week, every week, for the past several weeks. "Daddy, mommy wants a chocolate mint cake."

Today I turn 32, and at 6:30am (prior to going to Farrell's this morning), I opened the fridge to find a box and a card. Inside the box was this:



SUCCESS! I can't wait to eat a piece of this cake. Partly because I'm sure it will taste magnificent, and partly because I had to wait so long to get it ;)

I'm going out tonight with a couple girlfriends for a girl's only dinner at Dos Rios. And this time I can actually have a margarita! Then tomorrow night Mike and I are going back to a fabulous restaurant, where we last ate a year ago after finding out we were pregnant with Gavin. Sunday, my in-laws are going to come watch the boys so I can have a brunch/coffee outing with some of my favorite old friends. In addition to all this celebration, I just ordered myself an indulgent birthday gift-- a silk ring sling from Sleeping Baby Productions. And with that, I burst into song :)

{Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday to Mee--e, Happy Birthday to me. }

oh my....

Right after posting that last post on the subject of cake, Mike asked me to come upstairs for lunch and I found a mountain of goodies, and two little boys singing a birthday song.


While subtlety may not work anymore, 8 years of marriage has definitely taught Mike something: that my stomach is the way to my heart. French pastries and a sandwich from La Mie, smoothie from The Juice Company, and mammoth cinnamon roll from the Machine Shed? Oh my, good thing I worked out at Farrell's this morning :) Also a good thing I'm doing Farrell's right now, since it cut my sandwich in half, and saved all the pastries and goodies for another day. Hello, new me. Still, With just one week left till my final weigh-in, I'm not sure these last few days will go my way on the scale due to birthday cheating. Ah well, you only live once.

Little Hoarder

Jack's newest obsession is hoarding. He calls it "building forts;" I call it hoarding. He'll take nearly everything in a room and put it in one big pile. The other day it started on the playtable:



Later, it moved to the floor:


The grand finale was that evening, when he decided the pack and play was best suited for his stuff. He ended up piling nearly everything in our playroom into that crib:




And while I liked how "clean" the rest of the room looked...


This was a little overwhelming


After he went to bed, we decided to unload the pack and play and just take it back down to storage. You wouldn't believe the stuff he fit in there: about 20 loose cds, an entire load of clean laundry, the contents of our magazine rack, the entire Sunday newspaper, diaper bag belongings, shoes, every Little People figure we have in the house, two boxes of baby toys..... and my personal favorite is this magazine (note the title on the front page):



In other news, Gavin is continuing his journey toward crawling. He pushes up straight on his arms and then "worms" down and up onto his knees. He's quite adept at scooching backwards in this manner across the floor. I give him another month, and then I fear, the baby gates will be going back up. He's the most smiley guy ever, and has a tendency to wake up from a deep sleep and break into an immediate smile or laugh.

My favorite photos of the past couple weeks

Jack feeding his doll


My little Apolo Ohno


Reading to the Lil Bro


Crazy Hair Day


Yesterday Jack's best bud, Jaxson, came over to play. At one point I went upstairs to check on why they were so quiet, and found one completely naked, one down to just a diaper, and one fully clothed, but all in the bathtub--reading.


Who me?


Drool monger