The Nog

This morning a fellow blogger posted her recipe for egg nog. And before the breakfast dishes had even been cleared we had a batch of our own in the works.

So. Delicious.

So. Simple.

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So. Dangerous.

Because now when that egg nog craving strikes, I know I can just go in the kitchen and make some.

Just like biscuits and gravy.

I’m powerless to resist the pull.

How about you?

Enjoy the holiday, my friends. I’ll be checking in with pictures and few words over the next two weeks. Well be savoring our holiday, visits with family and a little road trip too.

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Seeking Advice

So. Here I am to break the facade that things are all lollipops and rainbows around here. All felt boards, fun family outings, and mama-made clothing. Here I am dear family, friends, and readers, to ask for some help. To admit that this mothering gig is TOUGH. And to reach out.

You see, for the past few months (ahem, has it been that long?), I’ve been feeling a bit off. A bit down. A bit anxious.

I’ve, largely, kept it to myself. Putting on a smile around friends. Saying all was well when checking in with family. Thinking that I could fake it till I made it.

Well, I’ve been doing a whole lot of faking, and not a whole lot of making, and it is time to get REAL. Time to reach out to this fantastic online community and my in-real-life community, as well. Time to admit that the image I project isn’t quite jiving with reality. Time to admit that I could use some advice and some perspective.

That’s where you all come in. And there are a few key places where I could really use some help and advice.

First, you’ve probably heard the phrase or seen the poster that, “good moms have sticky floors, dirty ovens….and happy kids.”

Image via mamafield over on etsy

 

Well, I have some of the dirtiest floors and biggest stacks of dishes you’ve ever seen. While the kids may be happy, I am miserable. Those dirty floors make me cringe as Xander is starting to crawl. Each time I brush off the bottom of my feet because they are caked with cheerios or any number of other things, I get frustrated. The dishes stacked in heaps on my very limited counter-space drive me crazy. These un-done household tasks make me anxious. I lay awake thinking of all that needs to be done, all that should have been done, all that didn’t get done, rarely focusing on all that did get done.

So, friends, help me out. Give me your tips for streamlining the housekeeping. Give me your tips for quick cleaning fixes. Give me your tips for getting things done that need to be done (without quitting doing the things that actually make me happy – sewing, knitting, playing, writing, printing).

Next, I’d love your tips for getting out with two little ones in tow. So often I find the hassle of it all overwhelming. And since Xander left that uber-sleepy-newborn stage we just haven’t been getting out as much as we had been, as much as I’d like to. The diapers, the snacks, the unknown toilet locations. Wrangling a spirited two-year-old while tending a babe. Sitting, nursing a babe while entertaining a toddler. With 7 months as a mama-of-two under my belt, it seems I’d have this down by now, but I don’t. Help me out.

And finally, I’d love your tips for letting go. It seems so easy. I just shouldn’t let that stack of dishes bother me. I shouldn’t worry about the pile of books in the living room that really should be donated. I shouldn’t let thoughts of bills creep into my mind as I’m reading “Sammy the Seal.” But I do.

Image via HoneyBoo over on etsy

So, help me out. Give me your tips, tricks. Give me your shoulder. Let’s be real here, but not always.

Tomorrow we’ll go back to sunshine and rainbows. Because, really, as hard as this is, as anxious as I’m feeling, it’s still a pretty cool gig. I still get to hang out with two of the coolest small people I know and I am really grateful for that.

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This Moment

Inspired by Amanda over at Soulemama, I’ve chosen to spend Fridays taking the chance to record a single moment from the everyday around here. One moment that I just don’t want to forget.

Look at that! A babe, my wee one, sitting all on his own.

It’s not a perfect system just yet, bonks still happen, but nothing that a little nursing can’t fix. How great is that?

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Big Rumpus

So, most times things go pretty well around here. So long as I remember that all deadlines, all to-do’s, are flexible.

Dinner doesn’t have to be done at 5:30,so long as it is done and eaten before bedtime.

The floors don’t really need to be washed, we just need to give our feet a little wipe down before climbing into bed. Okay, maybe they do need a washing.

Friends will understand if we show up at 10 rather than 9:30.

And if Xander’s diapers aren’t washed (we have far fewer in his size than I remember), well, he can always wear one of his brothers in a pinch.

The result is a comically large rump.

The horizontal stripes certainly amplify the effect.

Why is it that, when it comes to babes, the bigger the bum the cuter it is? And, when does that change?!

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