burnt toast life

double full time

It is taking every ounce of willpower for me to write this post. If you read any further than this, you’ll understand why.

You know those people who love to tell you being a stay-at-home-mom is a full-time job, or even more demanding than a full-time job because you work way more than 40 hours and never get paid? They’re absolutely right. Even if you have one child. Especially when you have two or three.

I am that. I am the primary caretaker for my children 24/7/365. (My husband may be a loving father but he’s not the one filling up those juice cups every 2 hours).

The thing is, I also have another full-time job.

On top of regular child-rearing, I also work a full-time regular job (from home). I don’t freelance a few hours per week. I don’t work on my business here and there when I can. No, I have a full-time workload with meetings, deadlines, production quotas, and oftentimes more than 40 hours worth of work that needs to get done.

This is why I’m not blogging lately.

When I first started my job, I didn’t see how I could possibly do both things simultaneously. And yes, in the summer I have the help of my 13-year-old sister, who does a good job of entertaining the kiddos for several hours at a time. But let’s be clear — she doesn’t change diapers, she doesn’t prepare meals, she doesn’t jump up the minute she hears, “Come wipe my buuuuuuuuuuuuuutt!” from the bathroom. She’s great for distracting the kids and they love her, but she is not a full-fledged au pair. Not even close.

Also, she returns to school in late August. Last year I frantically interviewed replacements, but then Eric’s hours at work took a hit and we couldn’t afford to have anyone start. After my maternity leave, I just kind of took it day by day, seeing if between the two of us we could both work from home without any outside help. And then we just kind of… did it.

Our setup has been working fine ever since. And by fine I mean… no one died or got fired (yet). But I’m definitely starting to feel the stress of it.

It’s partly because 95% of the time I’m the one with one eye on the kids, one eye on the laptop, simultaneously making sure no one falls down the stairs and formatting my articles. I’m forced to contend with multiple interruptions in the space of 10 minutes. I have taken conference calls from dentist offices. I have turned off my camera to breastfeed during a team meeting. I have worked from cars and campgrounds. Meanwhile, I have to stifle laughs when coworkers complain about their cats/dogs distracting them and affecting productivity. Oh, REALLY?!

But working from home and taking care of kids is also my greatest joy. I am so happy when my 10AM coffee break includes sloppy baby kisses. I love that I won’t miss Madeline’s first steps. I am known to take my kids to the park for a playdate instead of breaking for lunch or hauling my laptop to my in-law’s pool so my kids can play while I work. I’m getting the best of both worlds and I’m incredibly thankful for the opportunity.

The biggest problem is I never feel like I’m doing enough in either space. I want to devote more time to work but there is no more time. Little heads peek out at me from behind my laptop screen and want to play when I can’t. If I had $1 for every time I said, “Not now honey, Mommy’s working,” this wouldn’t even be an issue because I could quit right now and buy a private island.

No matter which task I’m focusing on, the other one gets neglected. There aren’t enough hours; there isn’t enough time. And when my cup is so empty at 9PM and the kids are finally asleep, the prospect of typing more words and using more brainpower is like some form of torture. That’s why this blog, which I used to enjoy so much, has become yet another source of frustration and guilt rather than the creative outlet I want it to be.

Obviously, the solution to this is simple: get help. A nanny, some part-time daycare, something. And that’s certainly a consideration for the future. For now, I just wanted to vent a little and let you all know where I’ve been. I’m here! Frantically trying to balance two full-time jobs and usually failing miserably.

Who complains about working poolside? I guess I do.

Who complains about working poolside? I guess I do.

camping utopia

There’s this campground we go to every year. It’s about 45 minutes away from my house, but somehow it feels like a different universe. I’d happily live there if I could.

How do I explain it? It’s like stepping back in time. It’s like living in a time before strangers in vans with candy, a time before the articles your friends share on Facebook made you want to weep for the world. At this campground, any kid old enough to ride a bike has one and uses it from sunup to sundown. It’s not uncommon to see kids as young as 7 cycling by themselves all around the grounds and not even worrying about it much because the speed limit it 5 MPH and everyone obeys it. Also, the bike curfew is strictly enforced (as Eric learned the hard way).

I don’t know if it’s coincidence or I’m just noticing it more now, but ever since we got home I keep seeing articles pop up about lonely moms who miss the “it takes a village” mentality of raising children. It seems like we’re all so isolated now, peering at our neighbor’s pristine white kitchens via Instagram rather than visiting their houses in real life and noticing the jelly fingerprints cropped from the photo. It’s depressing. We need to get back to the village.

The campground was like a village as a whole and because we were camping with the extended family. There were occasions where I lost track of Liam for periods up to half an hour. At first, it scared me out because I’m used to freaking out when I don’t have a direct sight line to my 2-year-old. But as the week went on, I learned to just go with it.

“Have you seen Liam?”

“Yeah, he was on the playground with the boys a little bit ago.”

“OK, cool, I’m sure he’ll turn up.”

I’m not naive — I know that no campground is immune to creeps and we did set some boundaries. When Molly said she met a new friend and was going to their campsite alone, I was like hell to the no you’re not. But still — camping at a place where kids could be kids and parents could stop helicoptering, where there was a lake for fishing and boating, where we biked instead of driving, where the highlight of every day was an antique fire truck ride for the kids — yeah, that was pretty awesome.

Fun fact: my mom took me to this same campground when I was a kid, though I have no recollection of it. Meanwhile, we’re already planning our trip for next year.

We love you, Otter Lake! Never change.

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mexico

mexico

My whole working life all I ever wanted was to go on a business trip. It always sounds so glam, so fun. Every job I’ve ever had promised “the opportunity for travel” and I always latched onto those words and waited with joyful expectation. But those trips never materialized.

I realize that most of the time business trips aren’t really exciting. People go to lame conferences in boring cities and pretend to pay attention. But then I got this job as a journalist (technically speaking) where I sometimes write about travel and a coworker/friend mentioned this magical thing called “press trips.”

Did you guys know about these? Because apparently, they’re a thing for bloggers too. A press trip is an all expenses paid trip to a resort or some other awesome locale that press members or photographers go on in exchange for coverage. And once you go on one, you get put into some secret database that allows you to get sent on others. I’m not even sure if I’m supposed to be talking about it (?) but you can all google “press trip” easily enough and see they’re real things that people get to do. Lucky people, anyway.

I’ve gotten a few things from PR people thanks to my job — a box of free Tide comes to mind (that one was useful). But so far, no press trips. Until today, when my friend who told me about them in the first place offered to let me go in her place to a luxury resort in Mexico.

My first inclination was to scream yes. But then I remembered how I have three kids who all need me 24/7 and a husband who has never been left alone with the whole screaming, needy lot for longer than a few hours. Right.

I actually just missed out on a mom’s trip to the Jersey shore because of Madeline. Long story short, she’s a boob snob who has never taken a bottle and gags dramatically whenever you put one near her mouth. I tried to get her to take one, but I’ll admit I didn’t pull out all the stops to make her do it. After a few attempts and a lot of gagging, I gave up on the trip and forfeited my deposit. I’ll go next year, right?

But THIS. Especially Mexico! In 2007, I planned a trip to Riviera Maya with two of my best work friends. We went to the travel agent and then counted down for months in anticipation, emailing each other photos of margaritas and palm trees every long, excruciating work day. We were so freaking excited.

Finally, the day arrived. We packed our bags and stayed at my friend’s apartment in NYC to catch our flight out of La Guardia. Got to the check-in counter only to find — my passport expired. Dun dun duuuun…

So, I didn’t go to Mexico. At my insistence, they did. I called Eric (my ex at the time, but hey, I was depressed) to come pick me up and get me drunk, quick. We stopped at a hole in the wall bar and I did tequila shots until I was puking out the window of his Nissan Stanza while crawling through rush hour traffic in the Lincoln Tunnel.

It was not my finest moment.

That was not my time to go to Mexico. But the more I think about it, the more I see the sweet faces of my young kids, who say, “I missed you, Mommy,” when I’m only gone for an evening — I know I can’t go now either. Right? I can’t.

It’s funny, we live in a culture that’s so obsessed with self-care and women figuring out who they are separate from their kids and partners. But when I try to picture who I would be, who I could be, in Mexico with zero attachments and responsibilities (beyond work, of course), I’m coming up blank. Motherhood is so ingrained in every action of every day that I don’t even remember what it’s like to be alone. I’d miss them terribly. Though I don’t think I’d be too miserable at an adults-only, all-inclusive resort with room service. I mean, I highly doubt it.

Anyway, I’ve been bugging everyone for their opinions on this all damn day and I just finished my latest book (reading books is like 90% of the reason I don’t blog in my free time), so I figured I’d write about. What would YOU do? Just curious.

Some of you will say go and some will say don’t go but ultimately, I know I’m the one who must decide. My husband said he could handle the kids alone but I’ll be honest, he doesn’t seem keen on the idea. I know with certainty that he’d be 1,000% more excited about the prospect if I could bring a plus one. Not that I blame him — if he ever went to a resort without me, I’d be super pissed.

Which is part of the reason why I obviously have to turn it down and miss out on Mexico again. That’s definitely what I have to do.

…right?

 

here’s why she’s not getting any new toys for Christmas (seriously)

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There’s something undeniably pathetic about the pile of worn, pre-loved presents that I set aside to wrap for Madeline. Do I not love my third child enough? the critical voice in my head demands.

I felt guilty about it for about five seconds. Then I move on.

I remember Molly’s first Christmas well. She was six months old and even though Eric and I promised that we wouldn’t go overboard because she didn’t need anything and wouldn’t know any better, we swiftly broke our own rule. Somewhere, in my iCloud, there’s a video of both of us excitedly ripping open the same presents we wrapped a few days before as a bewildered (yet adorable) infant gazes on. Predictably, she only wanted to play with the boxes.

This year I actually stuck to my word for several reasons. The first is a matter of practicality. Eric is a consultant who only gets paid for hours worked, which has never affected us before but has suddenly become a real and important detail of his job. Almost zero billable hours available in December has meant a round of layoffs (which he survived, thank God), several people quitting, and the two of us gritting our teeth and having to make a few tense phone calls to people like our mortgage company.

But don’t fret for us too much — this is all supposed to magically turn around in January (and if it doesn’t, he’ll have to look for some other sort of employment). Of course, when we’re literally counting pennies while grocery shopping, it doesn’t leave any wiggle room for extras like Christmas gifts. I was forced to rein it in this year.

The second reason is my desperate pursuit of minimalism, or as close to it as I can feasibly get with three kids. If you think about it, our financial crisis couldn’t have come at a better time. I’ve gotten really good at limiting the number of new items coming into the house (see above, re: our income took a nosedive), but not so great at purging all the stuff I accumulated before my minimalist epiphany.

There is a medium-sized basket full of baby toys that I know Madeline will play with and enjoy. Since my firstborn was female, most of the toys are even pink and stereotypically girl-themed (a fact which never bothered infant aged Liam in the slightest). The only reason I’m putting forth the effort to wrap them is because of my 3-year-old, who will surely cry if her beloved baby sister doesn’t have any gifts from Santa (I can just imagine the conversation now: “Mommy, was she BAD? Does Santa think our baby is a BAD BABY?”)

As for the explanation over Madeline receiving pre-loved gifts, I’m still trying to figure out how I should explain it (and am open for suggestions if you have any). For now, I’m thinking I’ll tell her that Santa knew she would love Molly’s toys better than any new ones and so he stopped by, brought them to his workshop to polish them up, and brought them back all wrapped and ready. Or, Molly will be so enamored by her own presents that she won’t even notice.

The other two did get brand-new-purchased-from-the-store toys… but not very many. Ask Molly what she wants for Christmas and you’ll be rewarded with a list of three items that has not changed one bit since early November:

“For Christmas, I want Shimmer and Shine a big giant LOL Ball and Satin and Chenille.” Now imagine this said in one giant breath as if she’s being timed on it.

Shimmer and Shine are characters from a Nickelodeon cartoon that I’m almost certain she’s never seen. Satin and Chenille are from Trolls. A big giant LOL ball is a total ripoff and also one of the hottest toys of the Christmas season. It’s sold out everywhere and enterprising Ebayers are gleefully charging double what they paid. Obviously, I got her one (not from eBay).

She also has a couple other things I saw and purchased because the girl is so dang easy to shop for. Liam is the total opposite. He’s not really “into” anything yet, besides the show Beat Bugs on Netflix, so he got some appropriately-themed items. We also picked up a used Strider balance bike from my SIL as his big gift for the year. (Cost = free).

Eric and I agreed not to purchase anything for each other either. Overall, it’s going to be an extremely light Christmas, gift-wise. But I’m getting to be OK with that.

I’m trying so hard to be grateful every day for what I have. A friend of mine just shared a link about the horrible situation going on in Venezuela where children are literally starving to death thanks to a corrupt government. I read things like that, or articles about real poverty in our own country, and I can’t help but feel ridiculous for complaining that my kids won’t have mountains of presents on Christmas morning. Money may be tight, but for God’s sake we’re eating. I don’t go to bed at night wondering if my children will starve to death. I just cannot fathom.

So that’s my spiel, a.k.a. justification for skimping out on baby Madeline’s first Christmas. I can’t feel too bad for the kid since the only thing she’s interested in is boobies and, lately, examining her hands. It’s a fact: 4-month-old babies don’t care how many presents they get on Christmas morning.

Madeline, if you’re reading this in 20 years, know that mama loves you immensely. You might not have stacks on stacks of brand new presents, but you do have a pre-chewed Sophie the Giraffe.

And that is enough.

remembering that she’s just a little girl

Some people are guilty of babying their children. I’m the opposite.

When I say Molly is exceptionally well-behaved and mature for an *almost* three and a half year old, I’m not saying it because she’s my kid or because I like to brag. Heck, in the same breath I’ll be the first to admit that Liam is a real handful (a sweetheart who will win your heart and then promptly trample it in a fit of wailing and screaming during a textbook terrible twos tantrum). In other words, Molly’s extraordinary self-possession is not a testament to my exemplary parenting skills, but is rather just a “hit” in the ol’ parenting lottery that we all play when we have children. Some kids are naturally easier than others. In that regard, we’ve been abundantly blessed.

So imagine my surprise when our little angel child started acting out at dance class on Saturday. From day one of class 12 months ago, Molly marched in and owned that classroom with barely a backward glance in my direction. (I’ll pretend I didn’t look around the room with a smug smile, trying not to look too pleased with myself in front of parents whose children were crying as though they were being led into a pit of hungry lions rather than into a dance studio). She was so brave and outgoing that I could not fathom why, as a year veteran and the oldest child in the group, she suddenly dissolved into a pile of tears this past Saturday two minutes after the class started.

Trying to speak to her calmly and rationally changed nothing. She didn’t want to dance; she needed mommy to hold her. No amount of bribing with candy or threatening to skip the other fun events we had planned for the day would change her mind. I was completely mystified.

Her dance teacher, a grandmother many times over who is adept with crying children (probably one of the reasons she’s brave enough to offer a dance class for 2 and 3 year olds), suggested that maybe she was having trouble adjusting to the new baby.

“That’s ridiculous!” I scoffed, “She loves the baby, and she’s already used to being a big sister. It has to be something else.”

Her teacher gave me a patronizing smile and said, “I’m sure she’s a wonderful big sister. But I’ve been around the block a few times and I can tell you that kids act out sometimes when there’s a big change like that.”

I nodded so that the conversation would end but inside I still disagreed. I figured she must have seen something that scared her (one girl was wearing aggressive blue eyeshadow for a Halloween parade later… maybe that?), or perhaps she woke up too early, or maybe she was just overstimulated thinking about our busy day ahead… it just couldn’t be the baby. Right?

That morning I had been getting ready while ignoring Madeline’s cries in the Rock n Play. With three kids, there’s just no way for me to instantly take care of her needs the moment she starts fussing or I’d never get anything done. Usually she’s forced to scream for up to five ten some number of minutes at a time while I finish whatever I’m doing, since Lord knows all she wants to do is hang out on my boob forever. So anyway, I was there blow drying my hair (which these days only happens about once a month) and throwing on some mascara when Madeline got the memo I must be taking some much needed me-time and started wailing like I hadn’t fed her in 62 years (untrue). I made up my mind to let her cry for as long as it took when all of the sudden she got quiet. I peeked around the corner into the living room to find Molly gently rocking her chair back and forth, whispering, “It’s ok, little baby, Mommy will be here soon.”

First of all… heart eyes emoji, right? And second, it took all of my restraint not to humble-brag post the whole thing on social media. But I didn’t have time because, remember, blow dryer and mascara. I knew even with Molly’s help I only had five minutes to finish, tops.

But that’s my point! She loves her sister. She’s happy; she’s adjusted. Right?

The dance class incident got me thinking about the past couple weeks. Molly has been unnaturally clingy. Like at Madeline’s baptism, where I was running around like a chicken without a head like I do anytime I host a party. Fun-loving, party-loving, relative-loving Molly had a total meltdown and refused to be comforted by anyone besides me… which seriously never happens. Every time I rushed out of the room to refill coffee or cut up fruit or hide from the guests in the bathroom, she’d run along behind in a panic as though I were fleeing the building forever. At the time I attributed it to the same factors — being overtired, overstimulated, or some combination of those.

At a trunk or treat event at her school the same night as the failed dance class, she once again stuck by my side like glue. It was dark and crowded but we were there with ten people we knew and there was no reason for her to act that way. One instance may have been a fluke and two a coincidence, but with distinct events in our recent past I think it’s time to admit what this is: a pattern.

And actually, she’s been clingy other times too. She seems unnaturally frightened of me leaving her places, even though I’ve never left her anywhere and now that I work from home, I am literally with her 24/7 most days. Maybe that’s part of the problem?

I was getting ready this morning and once again Madeline was crying in her Rock n Play (it’s a lot like Groundhog Day around here, the weather may change but our routines do not). Remembering the sweetness and, let’s be honest, the convenience of Molly’s help the day before, I asked her if she would rock Maddy for a couple minutes while Mommy finished getting ready.

She said no.

At the time I was annoyed because despite my dear husband’s suggestion, I cannot simply ignore the baby crying. Her little cry makes me stressed out and rush through whatever I’m doing, as it’s biologically conditioned to do. But then I thought about it logically for a minute. My daughter is not even three and a half years old. Why in the world was I expecting her to stop playing and soothe a screaming newborn?

I think part of it stems from my own stereotypical first child experience. When you are the oldest and especially when you are naturally mature and extra especially when you are female, adults naturally place more responsibility on your shoulders than you probably deserve. Right or wrong, sexist or not, that’s just the way it is. When I was ten I was scheduling my own dentist appointments. When I was twelve I was solely in charge of my two younger siblings when my parents were at work.

At the time I resented the responsibilities but in retrospect, I’ve come to appreciate them for shaping me into the adult I am today. Yes, it’s partly just my nature to be trustworthy, but I also think that having adults trust me that much gave me self-confidence I wouldn’t have otherwise. And as a technical millennial, I’m happy to be a functioning member of society, not one of those stereotypical overgrown children who can’t make it out of their parents’ basements.

I don’t remember the exact age that people started treating me like a mini adult. It was probably older than three, but who knows. I do know that I’ve been guilty of expecting that from my little firstborn. How can I begrudge her little tantrums when I have my own mini meltdowns on a daily basis? How can I hold her to some ridiculous “perfect child” standard when in the same breath I concede there’s no such thing as the perfect mom?

I was so busy worrying about how Liam would accept the new baby that I forgot to consider Molly might need to adjust to her too. Maybe she is having a hard time sharing her mom, just as I’m having a harder time juggling the three of them than I’d like to admit.

I really need to remind myself that she’s still just a little girl, even if she doesn’t always act that way.

even the best big sisters need a break sometimes

even the best big sisters need a break sometimes

50 questions

My dear blog friend Amber tagged me to do this, and since I have no brain power to formulate an original post (at least not one that actually makes it from my brain to WordPress), I’m happily obliging. Because I love talking about myself. Obviously.

Without further ado…

50 Questions I’ve Never Been Asked

1. What’s your favorite candle scent?
I don’t burn candles but I do diffuse essential oils. Or shall I say, essential OIL, because my one true love is YL thieves and I just constantly diffuse it in every room. I know that’s not the “right way” to essential oil because you’re supposed to use different oils for different purposes but thieves just smells so damn good and makes me happy plus I’m way too overwhelmed to learn about all the other ones. At least for right now.

2. What female celebrity do you wish was your sister?
Any of them… so I could ask her to borrow money. HA!

J/K. I like my actual sisters.

3. What male celebrity do you wish was your brother?
Same answer as above. I’m not enamored by celebrities at all.

4. How old do you think you’ll be when you get married?
I was 26.

5. Do you know a hoarder?
The closest I can think of is my parents, though they would argue that they are “collectors,” not hoarders. All I know is they have a helluva lot of stuff in that basement. I do not look forward to cleaning it out when they move on to a retirement home.

6. Can you do the splits?
This is a very weird way to say this… the splits? Is that how you’re supposed to refer to them?

I could do a regular split in high school during my cheerleader days. I could never do a straddle split, no matter how much I stretched.

7. How old were you when you first learned how to ride a bike?
5? 6? I don’t even know why I’m doing this; I have a terrible memory.

8. How many oceans have you swam in?
Two – Atlantic and Caribbean.

9. How many countries have you been to?
Only 5 — France, Monaco, Canada, Dominican Republic, and Grand Cayman.

10. Is anyone in your family in the army?
There are lots of veterans in my family, including my husband.

11. What would you name your daughter if you had one?
I have two – Molly and Madeline.

12. What would you name your son if you had one?
Liam!

13. What’s the worst grade you’ve got on a test?
I’ve definitely failed a test or two. Math and Science; never English or Reading.

14. What was your favorite TV show when you were a kid?
When I was a little kid I was all about Fraggle Rock. But sometime during childhood my parents got rid of television and I never got to see any of those 90s shows that everyone talks about. I don’t think I missed much.

15. What did you dress up as for Halloween when you were 8?
Uhhh… seriously? I have no idea.

16. Have you read any of the Harry Potter, Hunger Games or Twilight series?
No, yes, yes.

17. Would you rather have an American accent or a British accent?
I like British accents but I also like me just the way I am.

18. Did your mother go to college?
Nope.

19. Are your grandparents still married?
My maternal grandmother is a widow and my paternal grandparents are still married.

20. Have you ever taken karate lessons?
Yes! My whole family did karate for a solid year when I was young. I think I made it up to the second level (orange belt? Is that right?) before we all gave up on our Karate Kid dreams.

21. Do you know who Kermit the frog is?
Obviously yes.

22. What was the first amusement park you went to?
I want to say Dorney Park because it’s the one I remember visiting all the time and I still love it there but it’s probably Sesame Place (which I hated).

23. What language beside your native language would you like to be fluent in?
FRENCH. I’m such a Francophile.

24. Do you spell the color grey or gray?
Gray because I’m American and that’s how we do in ‘MURICA.

25. Is your father bald?
No.

26. Do you know any triplets?
My husband worked with a triplet a few jobs ago and we went to her wedding. I think she was a natural triplet?

27. Do you prefer Titanic or The Notebook?
I went to see Titanic in the theater seven times. I had a real thing for Leonardo DiCaprio and was a melodramatic teen when that movie came out.

28. Have you ever had Indian food?
I have.

29. What’s the name of your favorite restaurant?
White Orchids. THE BEST THAI.

30. Have you ever been to Nandos?
No, but now I’m skeptical of this survey because someone else said it’s super British. We don’t have Nandos in the US. Is that why they call it “the splits?” Is that a British thing?

31. Do you belong to any warehouse stores (Costco, Bookers, etc.)?
Sam’s Club only because it’s the closest to my house.

32. What would your parents have named you if you were the opposite gender?
Michael. They were fairly convinced I was a boy, actually, until I came out.

33. If you have a nickname, what is it?
Deeda!

34. Who’s your favorite person in the world?
I have lots of favorite people for different reasons. They know who they are.

35. Would you rather live in the countryside or the city?
Thank God I’m a country girl.

36. Can you whistle?
Not even a little bit.

37. Do you sleep with a nightlight?
I sleep with a salt lamp, which is really like a night light. Eric complains about it ALL THE TIME because he’d rather have the room pitch dark but I’ve truly come to love it over the years and couldn’t imagine not having it. I don’t know if it’s really making me healthier but I like the dim glow, especially when little visitors come tiptoeing in after having a nightmare or when I need to change a tiny diaper at 3AM.

38. Do you eat breakfast every morning?
Without fail.

39. Do you take any pills or medication daily?
I should be taking prenatals because I’m still breastfeeding but I ran out and have failed to purchase more. I am the worst.

40. What medical conditions do you have?
None that I know of.

41. How many times have you been to the hospital?
Just 3 for 3 c-sections.

42. Have you ever seen Finding Nemo?
Many times.

43. Where do you buy your jeans?
I can’t remember the last time I bought jeans.

44. What’s the last compliment you got?
“You’re the best mommy I never saw.” <--- direct quote 45. Do you usually remember your dreams in the morning?
Sometimes.

46. What flavor of tea do you enjoy?
What flavor of tea DON’T I enjoy? (Also, now 100% convinced this is a British poll).

47. How many pairs of shoes do you currently own?
Much fewer than I used to… I’ll say maybe 20-30? I keep paring down as I slowly come to the realization that I’ll never rock 4″ heels again.

48. What religion will you raise your children to practice?
They will be good Catholics and THEY WILL LOVE IT.

49. How old were you when you found out that Santa wasn’t real?
9ish… I remember the exact moment I found out the truth. And how my mom said, “Oh good, now you can help me wrap all the presents for your brother and sister.”

50. Why do you have a blog?
I have no idea anymore. It started out as a way to connect with others suffering through infertility and now I don’t want to give it up because I like it here. My posts get about 1/4 of the views they used to and it’s become increasingly difficult to figure out what to write about (or find time to write once I do nail down a topic) but every time I do write or get a comment, it buoys me up and reminds me why I still do this. I guess because I see no reason NOT to do it, even if I only post every month or two as opposed to every week. One day I’ll look back read these posts and it’ll make me smile, I think. So if you’re here, I’m here. Even if you’re not here… I’ll still probably be here.

And now I’m going to be an asshole and not tag anyone specific to “copy and repost” because most of the people I read have already been tagged. But if you do feel inspired to fill this out, please do, I’d love to hear if you can do the splits or not.

here in the state of bliss

It’s fairly chaotic going from two to three kids. Anyone who tells you differently is lying (or medicated, or blessed, or has older kids).

But it’s also amazing.

The thing about newborns is that they sleep a lot. At least mine does. She’s either eating or sleeping or pooping in her sleep (or pooping while eating). She’s awake for, let’s say, 10 minutes per day. The chaos comes from corraling the preschooler and the toddler, trying to keep the dogs from eating precious Shopkins that are strewn about (the eternal struggle), an endless cycle of meals and snacks, laundry, nursing, keeping a close eye on the newborn in her rock ‘n’ play because any day now she’s likely to be smothered in hugs (literally) by one or both older siblings. Did I mention dishes and laundry and cleaning? All of it. Chaos 90% of the time.

But… but. The sweetness is nearly unbearable. I gave Liam way too little credit when it came to adjusting to his new sister. I thought for sure he’d be annoyed at her presence; I figured he’d act out and push her away and generally treat her like some kind of intruder. But in fact, he loves her. He is enchanted by “Baybee!” and is concerned when she cries. This could very well change as she gets older and needier but at this moment, I could not ask for better adjustment from him. And of course Molly is enamored/obsessed/helpful as I knew she would be.

I suppose I owe you all a birth story for Madeline but I fear that a planned c-section simply isn’t as exciting as a surprise birth. We made it to the date we planned for – Friday, 8/25, 2 weeks ago today. We arrived at the hospital at 6AM for our 8AM surgery. I expected to be bumped in favor of emergency c-sections or other more pressing births since the end of summer is the start of “busy season” in the maternity wing. But instead of waiting, they were actually ready for me at 8 sharp. Unfortunately, I was not ready because once again it took 4 freaking people to get my IV in. Have I mentioned how shitty my veins are? I swear, I dread getting an IV more than the actual surgery. I was crying and shaking and had almost passed out by the time they finally got one in. Now two weeks later both forearms, hands, and wrists are still covered in ugly purple and yellow bruises from all the poking.

Meanwhile, the more serious cut is healing beautifully. It seriously seems like each c-section gets easier, or maybe it’s just that I know what to expect. More likely it’s that I don’t have time to be incapacitated with 3 kids to care for. Eric took a few days off work but even when he had to go back, the fact that he works from home has been an eternal blessing. He can be full-on working and still within shouting distance. Also it has proven invaluable for naptime errand running because I can just leave the house with one or two or zero kids and know that he can keep an ear peeled for the sleeping ones. It’s very convenient.

The only other big news from the birth was that I’m no longer allowed to go past 37 weeks. Apparently just like last time my uterus was super thin, but this time dangerously so. I mentioned that next time I wanted to put in two embryos and my OB/GYN said it really wasn’t a great idea. She said then she’d have to take me even earlier, and we’d likely be stuck in the NICU, with 3 kids at home… overall, just unwise. But when I asked her if I could safely have two more pregnancies she said she didn’t see why not. Five c-sections sounds excessive but if she says it’s OK and if my body continues to heal as well as it does, I guess it’s not the worst thing. The thought of being pregnant two more times is extremely exhausting but it’s also not something I need to think about right this minute. My baby is 2 weeks old. I can just chill for a minute.

As much as I fought the notion that I’d need to take time off work, I am glad I did. This week has been a little nuts with Molly starting preschool – which so far she LOVES. Me, I love being able to drop her off and pick her up, and love that I’ll be able to continue doing so even after I go back to work.

For some reason I recently clicked on that really old super secret blog I had years ago. I kept writing there for about a year before abandoning it and starting Burnt Toast. The last day I posted? August 25, 2011. I mean… how weird is that? If you would have told me then that on August 25, 2017 I’d be welcoming my third baby to our family I would have been so skeptical. I was thinking that the other morning when I had Madeline sleeping on my chest and the other two cradled in my right and left arms. I was immobilized because I was literally covered in children. And I realized that’s all I ever wanted to be, and there I was, living out my dream. It’s weird to feel so content in what I have… given the choice I’d definitely want more money, less debt, and thinner thighs. But overall I am totally happy with what I’ve been given and couldn’t ask for more.

And it’s funny too because I was reading some past posts where I talked about having a kind of pre-midlife crisis, wondering about the Point of It All and just generally feeling blah, but now six months later I feel completely different. Proof that the real problem was simple: I hated my job. Once that one thing changed, everything else felt a million times better.

A part of me feels guilty posting stuff like this because it feels kind of like bragging — oh look at me, everything is SOOOO perfect. Trust me, it’s not. Lots of mini dramas and crappy things going on currently, and even motherhood isn’t always the best time ever. I definitely yelled at Molly for not listening the other day. She went silent for a few minutes and when I looked over, she was just sitting there with huge eyes and silent tears streaming down her face. I said, “Oh my gosh, Molly, what’s wrong??” and she said, “You YELLED at me!” in the most accusatory voice. I guess she’s not used to being yelled at? It was so funny/sad. But also very telling. Even perfect angels like Molly aren’t always perfect. (Her latest thing is to question everything I tell her to do, and give long-winded explanations why she should be able to do it her way, so now my phrase of the moment is “Stop arguing with me!” which she often parrots back to Liam, who seems confused).

Anyway. I feel like I’m rambling and since the other two monkeys are sleeping, I’m neglecting this precious small amount of Mommy/Maddie cuddle time (because I’m usually too busy to just sit around holding her. This poor third child). I’ll leave you with some of my favorite photos from the hospital, which if you follow me on social media you’ve already seen, but oh well. I am obsessed with them and am currently planning a total photo wall redo just to incorporate them.

one of my favorites

one of my favorites

our beautiful Madeline Grace

our beautiful Madeline Grace

what did I do to deserve all of this? how can I possibly thank God for these precious gifts?

my gratitude for these blessings is infinite

currently

I promised myself I’d get around to posting something BEFORE the birth of the baby, which now is just three days away and who am I kidding, it’s not going to be some epic summer recap full of photos like I wanted it to be.

Just know that our summer was glorious.

It was truly everything I wanted it to be. Relaxed, fulfilling, joyful. Stressful yet satisfying. At this point I’m 90% positive you’re sick of hearing how much I love working from home but I don’t even care, I’m saying it one more time: IT IS SO GOOD. I had pool days on Tuesdays, I had afternoons free to do whatever with the kids, I had farm visits for my lunch break. I had 11AM snuggle time and exactly zero stressful commutes. It was trying at times (whining kids + deadlines = stress), but also worth it. Now that I’ve tasted this side of life I’m never going back.

I’d say my biggest complaint about the summer has been the physical demands of being 7 then 8 then freaking 9 months pregnant. Two days shy of 39 weeks and I’ve hit a wall. I’ve figured out that every day I’m able to complete one physically demanding task — anything from grocery shopping to carrying a box up to the attic to visiting a playground — and after that I’m useless. My to-do lists are laughable thanks to these limitations and now I’m totally out of time. Everyone has been making fun of the fact that I haven’t packed my hospital bag yet… well, I’m getting there. But that will be the only thing I do that day and so far it keeps getting bumped in favor of more exciting stuff.

But anyway. In an effort to keep this blog on track and actually produce some content, I’m going to try some writing prompts. Without further ado, here is my edition of “currently” for 8/21, aka Solar Eclipse Day, aka today.

Reading…
I’ve been reading A LOT in the last couple of weeks, mostly because that’s the only thing I can do that doesn’t cut into my “one thing per day” quota. Also, my neighbor is a teacher and home for the summer, plus she’s a book-a-phile like I am, so she runs to the library (since Lord knows I don’t have the energy for all that), picks up a big pile, and we swap back and forth. I read so many books this way I lost count, including one book in a matter of 24 hours when I was laid low on the couch recovering from the stomach bug. The kids watched movies while I tore through a novel. Probably the only thing good about the stomach bug is not having any guilt about “wasting” a perfectly good summer day literally not moving from one position except to flip a page.

If you want to know all the titles I’ve been reading lately, check out my Goodreads. But at this very moment in time I’m about 100 pages into Swimming Lessons, which is OK not great.

Watching…
It’s amazing how little TV I watch, especially since cutting cable over a year ago. I watch Game of Thrones and that’s really it. However, I do anticipate wanting to watch more stuff once I’m up at all hours breastfeeding because I don’t know if I’ll have the mental capacity for books like I do now. I’m actually dreading my hospital visit because my sister told me there are literally NO good channels; they don’t even have HGTV! It’s a little sad how disappointed I am about that.

BUT, I do have Netflix and Amazon Prime. So any suggestions you have for someone who is unapologetically ruthless and picky in regards to television, I would love to hear them.

Listening…
To silence. Can I get an Amen for kids who nap at the same time? It is one of my favorite things.

Drinking…
Water + flavor drops out of my new Atlin cup! It’s supposed to be a Yeti knockoff and so far I’m loving it. I can’t believe how long it keeps my drink cold… I’m talking insulated enough to keep ice cubes intact for 12+ hours. Plus, I got it on Amazon for $11, as opposed to like $40 or whatever for the almighty Yeti. #winning

Eating…
Nothing. Shockingly. I am already thinking about dinner, when I’m making some sort of very healthy concoction of crescent rolls and chicken that resembles chicken pot pie.

Wearing…
Last night’s pajamas. At 3 in the afternoon. Not ashamed.

Loving…
My job! And not just the work from home aspect, though that’s clearly the main appeal. The exciting news of the hour is that they asked me to go full-time following my maternity leave. This was after I said I didn’t really need maternity leave since I’d be home, but they kind of insisted. Which, I’ll admit was sort of an awkward phone call with HR but thankfully it all worked out in the end.

So basically I admitted that I can’t afford six weeks off with no pay. They agreed to let me work when I wanted, logging hours as I wanted, but no pressure throughout the month of September, then start up full-time hours at the beginning of October. Which is like, absolutely perfect and everything I ever wanted.

I even get to set my own schedule, so I’ll be working 7-3 and still off in the afternoons. AND I found a mother’s helper. It’s just… it couldn’t be better. Everyone from my boss to HR to my whole team is so friendly and chill and accommodating, and now I have the added bonus of making a full-time salary to boot. I could not possibly be more satisfied with how it all worked out.

Anticipating…
Uh, I dunno, how about HAVING A FREAKING BABY ON FRIDAY?

Hoping…
Really hoping everything goes well with my c-section. This is my first planned section, so I have way too much time to Google complications and stuff. I may or may not have asked my OB/GYN how she “knows when to stop cutting so she doesn’t slice the baby.”

Wondering…
If I’m the only one who isn’t 6,000% jazzed about a solar eclipse. I’m just not that excited. There, I said it.

Trying…
To motivate myself to pack a hospital bag.

Worrying…
About surgery and recovery, plus Liam dealing with not being the baby anymore. I think he’s really going to have a hard time adjusting and I’m just dreading that part.

Planning…
I’m pretty proud of how much I got done in anticipation of Molly starting preschool ten days after the baby is born. I finished her back to school shopping, got her an outfit… she’s ready to go, and she’s so excited about it.

Contemplating…
A nap. But I really shouldn’t.

OK, time to go maybe take that nap and/or read some more! Have I mentioned how much I love coordinated nap times for the kids?

We had such a great summer.

We had such a great summer.

reflections on one month at home

It’s been juuuuust over a month of doing the work-at-home mom thing and I thought I’d recap a few observations I’ve noticed in that time. So I can look back and laugh or cringe in a few years when everything is completely different, obviously.

Observation 1: There’s time for boredom.

Those first two weeks were a total whirlwind of figuring out my schedule and settling into a new state of being, but now that I’ve kind of gotten into the groove there are plenty of moments where I’m just… bored.

It’s so weird to be bored.

Granted, I have two young children and they keep me busy, but without the added stress of commuting and working a full time schedule, now there’s actually downtime in my afternoon that wasn’t there before. I have a list of random little projects to tackle that I’ve been chipping away at but it really feels weird to actually be doing them rather than just endlessly adding items and knowing they’ll never get done. I finally cleaned and organized my spice rack and one shelf (baby steps) of my linen closet. It’s incredible. I shudder to think what I’ll be able to accomplish when I’m not 7 months pregnant and super lazy.

Observation 2: I could never be a full time SAHM.

I already knew this about myself but now I REALLY know it. Even working part time makes me a little antsy, like I need to fill my hours with something else or like I’m forgetting to do something. I also find myself allotting way too much time for simple tasks that I used to schedule much differently. Like, I’ll mentally block off an entire afternoon for a quick grocery store run that I used to accomplish in 30 minutes.

Plus, being stuck in the house on rainy days is some particular form of torture. I’m not creative enough to come up with fun activities plus I am working for the mornings. So I’m just stuck with antsy kids who need an outlet. SO FUN.

Observation 3: The weather rules my life.

No offense to old people but… wow, I’m like an old person with how obsessed I’ve become about the weather. I’m constantly checking it and planning my life around it, mostly because our main excitement every day is going to my MIL’s pool, which of course we can’t do in the rain. Last week was crappy and we were going so stir crazy that I loaded up the kids and took them to McDonald’s so they could run around the play place (#parentoftheyear).

Actually, I felt really good about myself because Molly has literally never been to a McDonald’s in her life and kept asking if we were going to see “old McDonald had a farm” and I haven’t been inside one in so many years that I didn’t even know their screens are all digital now. The kids loved the play area and it was just what they needed. Molly marched up to two little girls there and said, “Hi. I’m Molly. I like you guys. Let’s go play.” It’s truly a shame about how shy she is…

But then she was having so much fun playing that she forgot to tell me she had to go potty and ended up having an accident. In the climbing structure. Fun times.

Observation 4: I will never go back to an office. Ever.

So I thought a part of me would miss hanging out with coworkers… or office life in general… but as it turns out, NOPE.

Seriously, I’m sure you’re all sick of hearing this since my last three posts have mentioned it, but if there’s any feasible way for you to do your job from home – make it happen. It’s sooooo good. I’m not going back and you can’t make me.

I supposed that’s it for observations. The end of June was particularly crazy but now on the other side of that it looks like I have absolutely nothing going on between now and Baby Girl’s arrival besides our family beach trip the first week of August. The lack of busyness is actually kind of sad, and I’d love to find something to fill the space between besides just really long grocery store outings and weather checking. It’s sort of annoying to be a faux SAHM, as I like to call myself, because I can’t schedule things in the mornings when I have office hours and by afternoon it’s nap time and after that time to make dinner. I know, I know, FIRST WORLD PROBLEMS.

I do truly enjoy all the extra time spent with the kids and the other morning I came to the realization that I would not have to supplement this baby (hopefully) due to decreased milk supply after returning to work. I know I’ll have to pump so I can get a little stash but it’s not like I’ll have a 3-times-a-day date with my breast pump in a closet somewhere. That is so cool.

Finding a mother’s helper for the fall has been a particular sort of torture because no one seems to have accountability anymore. The first girl I messaged with for several days sounded like she had so much potential. We scheduled a meeting – she bailed – and then disappeared off the face of the earth. Ohhh kaayyyyy…

The second girl rescheduled twice on me and then showed up late. (Traffic. Obvi.) She was very nice but seemed very young, shy, and quiet for a 19-year-old. Was I like that at 19? Not that there’s anything with being shy… she just seemed, I dunno, immature. Maybe because I already had some negative first impressions from the scheduling issues. And the lack of punctuality.

My third candidate was supposed to come today but – surprise! – she had to reschedule! And she was my favorite, too. WHAT IS UP WITH PEOPLE? If I had a job interview, I would be there when I said I was going to be, and on time. I’m giving her another chance because I’m reaching a point of desperation. Good thing I started my search early…

Anything else? No. Time to go check the weather (again).

7QT on a Thursday

A lot of the bloggers I read now do this thing called 7QT, an acronym which took me an embarrassing amount of time to figure out and even when I Google it, nothing helpful comes up so maybe it’s just a v. v. small subset of the blogosphere using it. 7QT = 7 quick takes = 7 random things going on right at this moment.

So since I can’t seem to get my ish together to write a long post with any kind of cohesive theme and since I have so many things to cover all the time, I’m just going to go with it.

1. My baby is turning 3 tomorrow. MY BABY. IS TURNING. 3. TOMORROW.
If I’m being honest though, I feel like she’s been 3 for a while now because I do this thing where I round up my kids’ ages, which my mom calls me crazy for but sometimes it just makes sense. Like, she was calling my little sister 11 literally the day before her 12th birthday and I’m like, mom, get over it. She’s 12.

Maybe I round up kind of early but oh well. Part of it is that she acts 3 and has been exceptionally mature for such a long time, I just can’t think of her as 2. And because it’s been so gradual I haven’t exactly noticed it, but at times I’ll go back and watch videos of her from as close as 6 months ago and just be amazed at the difference in how she speaks. I’ve been taking for granted how easy it is to communicate even complex emotions with her and as much as I hate that she’s growing up, I also love it. She’s becoming her own little individual with quirks and mannerisms and I can’t wait to see what’s up next.

We’re having a very tiny get-together at our house tomorrow with pizza and cake. Half the family can’t be there and since my sister is so close to popping out her kid, I’m truly expecting her to call me tonight and announce she’s in labor. Which would be cool since Molly and her cousin would share a birthday, but would also NOT be cool because her family is half our party guests and Molly is so thrilled about her little not-really-a-party that I can’t bear to break her little heart.

2. I’m also, ahem, 30 weeks pregnant as of yesterday. WHAT.
No closer to being ready for the baby to come, but I did buy an obnoxiously large box of baby wipes at SAMS Club yesterday and got a little weepy when I realized that many of them would be wiping a tiny baby bottom very soon. Very, very soon.

3. Molly gives birth every day.
Not surprisngly, Molly’s favorite thing to play lately has been “having a baby.” She stuffs dolls and balls under her shirt, insists I call the doctor, and even has a green plastic saw that she uses to get the baby out. I’m not sure how she knows to lie down with her knees up and to wince in pain when the baby is actually being extracted… (seriously…), but she does. Maybe it’s some innate woman thing.

4. Working from home is absolutely glorious.
I cannot stress this enough. I love it. Loooooove itttttt. There were definitely some bumps in the road and there still will be, but overall I am completely happy and feel like I am where I need to be. On beautiful days, I pack up a lunch and bring the kids to my MIL’s pool around lunchtime (along with my au pair, who watches them until I’m done working). So when I sign off at 2PM, I’m literally poolside. That’s how I’m spending my summer. Not stuck in an office… not counting down the minutes until the weekend… at the pool, with my family. I am so grateful for this job it’s ridiculous.

And while I wasn’t expecting this, I actually like the job itself, too. I became so obsessed with the idea of working from home that I would have taken any opportunity to do so, even a really awful sounding one. But I really like my team, I like the things I’m writing, and I felt this definite surge of pride when I got companywide props today when one of my articles was trending on Yahoo.

I’d say my only complaint is that I’m running into the issue Eric warned me about with working from home… since my office is in my home, I’m always at work, and I have noticed I seem to work more now than I did before. I’m one of those people who likes to have things “done,” so if one of my articles is ready for the next step at 7PM, I’ll totally want to log on and do it, rather than waiting for morning. I need to stop doing that.

5. Liam is talking…and eating… and eating.
I found the best swimsuit for Liam that says “Always Hungry” with a giant open shark mouth on it and it’s truly like it was meant for him. He eats and eats and eats and eats and then announces he’s hungry. The only time he isn’t eating is when he’s sleeping… and he has totally fallen asleep while eating. Bottomless. Pit.

He also picked up the phrase “I want to get out,” but not necessarily the proper usage for it. So “I want to get out” could mean anything from I want get out to I want to get up, get down, go there, open that, eat this. It’s really universal.

Also, he says it in this pretty awesome Arnold Schwarzenegger-esque accent, so picture it repeated 100 times a day as sounding like “I wanna get AHHHWWWT!”

6. I’ve become obsessed with Jane.
As in, this super cute daily deals site. I’m not actually buying things because hello, 7 months pregnant, but I am pining over them and anxiously awaiting a day when I’m NOT super fat so I can get all the things for none of the monies. Check them out.

7. This is the busiest week ever.
Molly’s dance recital dress rehearsal was today, her birthday/mini party is tomorrow, her recital is Saturday, and Sunday we leave for a week of camping. I’m pretty excited to be extending our normal weekend camping jaunts into a longer trip because getting everything packed and ready for camping is no small feat and then it seems like such a waste to only stay for a weekend. After our camping week, we head back home and thankfully don’t have much going on for July besides our annual beach trip. So maybe I can spend some time getting stuff ready for the baby. HA!

I would promise to speak soon, but that could be a total lie, so how about I’ll just leave it at I’ll see ya when I see ya and goodnight (it is almost 9PM, after all).