We said goodbye to my nephews yesterday. We had such a great time with them. We are slowly recovering from our two-week run of hosting family. We showed them all the best sites in OC (pretty much a repeat of all of the places we took my sister). Then we spent a long weekend lazing around the pool in Palm Springs. It was so much fun, but now I'm dealing with a serious vacation hangover. Today I was determined to "get back to business", which meant sifting through 232 emails, 59 messages . . .
The Lazy Mom’s Guide to a Great Vacation
1. Load the car up with every baby gear item in your home to the point that you cannot see out of the back window.2. Under the children's feet, stuff bags of food from your own kitchen so you don't have to eat out the entire trip. 3. Find a creative way to breastfeed your baby in the car without having to stop your three-car caravan and make your friends wait on a nursing session4. Leave the kids in the car while checking in so the resort staff won't see you have one more child than the "maximum . . .
assuredly uninsurable
I've been wanting to write about healthcare reform for a while now. I feel really passionate about it, but I have so much to say that I end up getting overwhelmed and then say nothing. I've also been a little hesitant on what to say and how to say it, because it is such a divisive and polarized political issue. I know my views are sure to tick a few people off. But my unwillingness to choose a side in the conservative/liberal identification game, along with my tendency to blather on about my . . .
the nephews are in the building
This morning, we said our goodbyes to my sister and her sweet family. I sent Mark to the airport to drop them off, and then to pick up my other sister's kids. My younger sister's two boys, who I still think of as looking like this:Mark returned from the airport with two grown-ass men. I don't know how or when this happened, but these boys are HUGE. Derek rolled in wearing his do-rag, and since Karis is still dealing with cradle cap, they had a matching look:Then Austin put his on, which made . . .
touristy
My sister, her husband, and their 15-month-old daughter have been visiting with us this week. It has been so great to have them out - it's been way too long. The last time they came out was right after I had India (when I took a road trip to Vegas with a 4-week-old. 'Cause I like to keep it classy like that). This was a much more mellow trip, although we are all a bit sleep deprived. My three kids shared a room while they bunked (and I mean literally, bunked) in Jafta's room. It was a FULL . . .
beach day
. . .
love means . . .
Tonight, while putting Jafta to bed:ME: Jafta, do you even know how much I love you? JAFTA: Well if you love me so much, maybe you should buy me a Robin Hood costume. . . .
risk prevention
Jafta has acquired quite the collection of costumes in the last year, and dressing up as a knight/superhero/spiderman/fireman is his favorite thing to do. I used to store his costumes in a big box on a ledge over his closet, so he had to ask me to get a costume down. The other day, he came strolling out of his room dressed as spiderman, and I was wondering how he got access to the box. This is what I found:A chair set on top of a toy chest, with his drumset stool balanced on top. Creative? Yes. . . .
The Three-Month Hump
Karis turns 3 months old today. Three months is a beautiful thing, where you start to emerge from the fog of newborndom and you settle into some semblance of normal. Well, a new normal, anyways. I am managing to feel a little less day-to-day crisis, and I'm slowly finding my rythm. I still haven't had a trauma-free grocery store run, but most days I am managing to get showered and dressed and leave the house at least once. And not cry. That is the new measure of success. I am also getting a . . .
A Fair to Remember
I am slowly recovering from the Frenzy of Fair we were involved in last week. I am sitting here trying to think of how to explain what lead me to the fair, not once, but TWICE, in one week. Really, I have nothing to say for myself. Mostly I blame Rosie, my housekeeper.Rosie cleans my house twice a month on Wednesday mornings, in order to keep me from divorcing my husband arguing with Mark about the division of labor in our home. I love Rosie but I have some weird quirks about having a . . .
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