wait…

(checks calendar)

it’s January?!?!

51 degrees and sunny. In January.

It is wonderful. Glorious. But slightly off-putting. It’s supposed to be winter, after all.

So. Delicious.

So. Simple.

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.

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.

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?

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?!

Watching the way a two-year-old dotes upon an infant is just plain funny. I’m pretty sure Xander thinks so, too.

Horsing around with my first, little, love. This little man never stops bringing joy into my life.

I do love this little man.

So, I’ve been pumping every afternoon and, as it turns out, Ewan’s been watching. And now, he’s imitating.

He gets it, mostly.

And then we decided to give Xander his first bottle of pumped milk. Just to get him used to taking it, just in case.

Ewan loved feeding his brother. Xander, my go-with-the-flow child, had no problem getting milk this way. And Papa was pretty smitten with it all too.

Then I got pregnant and all of a sudden all of my hopes and wide-eyed dreaminess about siblings changed, a bit. Instead of being pure joy, I began to doubt the decision we made. How could we love another babe? Would Ewan love being a big brother as much as we hoped? Would our relationship with Ewan change? How? Would everything be ok?

Then Xander came. Yes, in fact, we managed to find more love. And, as we hoped, Ewan absolutely adores his little brother.

Adores him.

Ewan even shares his favorite firetruck.

Though he doesn’t quite understand Xander’s lack of interest.

Ewan adores him and I’m hoping that Xander feels the same. Because really, siblings are pretty awesome. (Even if they are a total pain in the ass sometimes, too.)