Bunny

H has never been attached to anything for sleep or comfort. No blanket or toy or lovey. I used to say the only comfort object she is/was (she's still not weaned...) attached to were my boobs.

And up until recently B has pretty much been the same way. But since he started the nights off in his own bed a few months ago he's attached himself to "bunny."

Before he was even born I bought him a Little Nut Brown Hare lovey because I thought it was cute. It was shown no love, yet remained as one of the few baby things we had left simply because I loved it. Being second born and so close in age to his sister, and with all our newborn stuff being gender neutral, we didn't "need" anything before B was born.

So other than a newborn sized flower romper that I still have tucked away (obviously B being a he never ended up wearing it), Little Nut Brown Hare was the only thing I bought especially for B before he was born.

So it remained.

He discovered Bunny when he began sleeping in his own bed. He doesn't really cuddle or play with Bunny, but Mr. B squeals his name in delight and falls asleep touching him.

And this is a must for nighttime sleep if he's in his own bed ( if he's in Momma's bed Bunny is not necessary).

As B is growing, nearing closer to 2 everyday ( a 2 yr old AND a 3 yr old!?), Bunny is a sweet reminder of the dear baby he still really is.

Of that newborn who slept long stretches. Who cried every evening like clockwork from 4-7. Who sucked furiously on the cheap Nuk pacifiers for the first 5 months of his life despite all the expensive, natural, green and organic pacifiers I purchased.

That sweet boy who smiled at me through a haze of PPD and refused to be left behind as he crawled after his sister at 6 months old. A baby who nestled and fit perfectly into the curve of my body each night, who never laid his tiny head in a crib for sleep.

The fearless baby who took his first steps just shy of 10 months and only chewed his food, but never swallowed it and instead always found my hand to spit it into.

That sweet, comical, adventurous baby is growing into a little boy.

But he'll always be my tiny babe.

Bunny is proof of that.

H's pinkalicious bedroom

Before Miss H was born I put a lot of time and effort into making her a nursery. I wanted something picturesque, from a magazine photo from Pottery Barn Kids or something.

I never quite got something that awesome, mostly because I was tired and fat and gave up.

But I did get the exact shade of green walls that I wanted, even though there was a different low VOC paint in the exact same color, just a different name and brand, for half the price (at the time, it sure didn't seem like the same color to me! I could tell the difference.)

I bought her bug bedding from PBK, because although I really thought she was a girl, I was trying to psyche myself out for a boy (don't ask why). I figured it was "gender neutral." Ha! I realize now that gender neutral really means boy. Oh, well.

She never slept in there anyway. She went in a few spurts where she did, because she was our guinea pig baby and I really did a number on her. But for the most part, the "nursery" went unused.

Then B came along and they "shared" a room. So she never had a "girly" room.

Until now.

Boy, oh, boy!

J and I told her she could paint it any color she wanted. She chose pink. Like really, really pink. She called it "pinkalicious pink." And she's dead on.

We hung a few things in her room that were in her old room, but we also let her pick out some new things. I'll note everything with the pictures.

Her room is still a work in progress. J literally took it down to the studs while we were in Pennsylvania, replaced the bedroom and closet doors, etc. So the doors aren't painted quite yet, and he's putting hardware on them right now as I type this.

Again, ignore the horrid lighting. I have a knack for taking pictures in the evening. Go figure.

This is from standing in the doorway. Her closet door is to my immediate right. The bed my little sister slept in as little girl and I used while I was in college. The quilt is not what's staying on there. I'm in the process of making her a comforter with the same fabric as her chair to the right, per her request. The flower light is from Ikea. So is the side table. It used to be in the guest room to hold the TV. That's her 3 month old mug shot up there. The chair was a $10 Craigslist steal that I re-upholstered. H really wanted pink curtains too, but luckily we were able to sway her with that one.

The bicycle decal she picked out at Joann's.  And the bird picture she chose from Hobby Lobby. They were awesome steals, so I was all for it. She has some eclectic decorating choices, but whatever makes her happy and isn't peace signs and smiley faces (those were vetoed).

I was laying on her bed for this photo. The pink on pink on pink ballet picture is a Hobby Lobby steal, too. The doll house she got a few Christmases ago from her Grandpa J. That awesome baby cradle my paternal Grandpa made for me when I was a little girl. It's one of the very few sentimental things I own.

I shall admit I totally salvaged that mirror out of a dumpster when J and I first got together. It was brand new. The super cute butterflies are from Etsy, and were a birthday gift from my momma for Miss H.

That dresser is the only original "nursery furniture" from H's first room. The crib/bed is wrapped up in storage and the other dresser is in my younger sister's room at the moment. That painting J and I bought in Paris (the same trip we got engaged!). And the cute lamp is Pottery Barn Kids (I really love that store, if it isn't obvious).

 



 This is the closet door - needs painted! Hung up beside it is her gifted cross from her baptism and a super cute bow holder one of my good friends made for her (the bows have yet to be put on it).

So there you have it. An outrageously pinkalicious bedroom. But she happily sleeps in it, so it's more than worth it!

The marriage and baby fairy is coming for you!

I'm entering that stage of my life where you know, all my friends are either graduating from grad school or getting married or having their first babies.

It all makes me so happy and excited for them because I know how awesome marriage and kids are, so they're getting ready for some really magical moments ahead of them.

At the same time it makes me a little nostalgic for my own wedding and first baby days. I don't have any experience with grad school, so I just feel excited for their accomplishments there. I don't really know anyone who hasn't gone to grad school at this point in my life, so I'm like a freaking rare gem, just saying.

I planned zero of my wedding. Nothing. None of it. Honestly, I wanted to elope. I still feel a little saddened that we didn't, but it's done and over with. No use in crying over spilt milk (unless it's breast milk! In that case, have a flipping sob fest for that gold, my love!).

I ordered a cheap dress I never tried on until 8 weeks before my wedding. It fit awesome then. Come my wedding day, I was 7 weeks pregnant with mega huge boobs (yep, who knew that they could have gotten so much bigger so quickly?) I'm sure people tsked at the Jezebel walking down the aisle. Oh, well. I was happy regardless.

We had a cheap, shitty photographer so I have no real great pictures from that day. Nothing better than from my prom anyway. I tell myself it doesn't matter. Our wedding was just a day. Our marriage is a lifetime. That's what matters.

And really, our marriage is kick ass, so what more could I possibly ask for?

I'm excited for my friends who are planning these gorgeous weddings and are blissfully happy about this. I'm so happy that they will get to walk down the aisle - or stand at the end of the aisle waiting for someone to come down - and they will get to pledge their love to their partner in front of an audience of people who are crazy happy for them and thrilled that they have found one another.

I'm happy they know love.

I remember those crazy blissful 40 weeks of pregnancy. Okay, some of the first weeks weren't blissful when the doctor thought I was going to miscarry. That was pretty terrible, but otherwise. J and I were in baby bliss. We talked about our perfect little family and all our beautiful ideals. We oohed and ahhed and loved every little flutter and kick that came from within my womb.

When we brought that sweet girl calmly into this world, at home, in a placid and loving environment, perfect, whole, without medicines swimming through her body, we were in love. Over the moon, outta this world kind of love. When she was 3 months old my doc asked me about a million and ten times how I could possibly be as smiley and chatty and eager for another as I was. She said most sleep-deprived moms with tiny babes and thrush and plugged ducts were not as obviously elated and so ridiculously happy about getting up in the middle of the night as I was.

But are you kidding? Those days are so easy! Two parents. One baby. Babies eat and sleep. Sleep and eat. You wear them everywhere you go. You take them with you out to eat and to the movies and they sleep or nurse the whole time. You can do anything and everything that you could beforehand. They're simple and easy and fun.

I wouldn't trade in my crazy, hectic, sleep-deprived, never ending days that I have now for the world. They're beautiful and perfect in a very different way.

But I also understand that the time J and I had as a family of 3, especially those early months, was a very special time. A very sweet and dear time. We can never go back there, but man, do we have some wonderful memories.

I'm excited my friends are going to get this. Are getting this right now. I'm happy that those are moments they get to experience for themselves. That no one can take that away from them.

Life without marriage and life without kids is great, don't get me wrong. Just a very different kind of great. I love this marriage and baby fairy that is floating around, guiding my friends into this awesome world. Because I know they're gonna rock it. And I know that they will find as much love and joy from it as I have.

And nothing makes me happier than seeing the people I love so very much being oh-so happy themselves.

Let's talk about sex, baby

My 3 year old has seen all the pictures from her birth. She's seen her little head of black hair crowning, her placenta splayed like the beautiful tree of life that it was.

This really disturbs some people. I mean, why would I show such things to a little girl?

One, it's only a "bad" thing if you make it so. I think it's beautiful and amazing.

Second, I didn't intentionally show her the pictures the first time, but that's long past and I want her to hear and see and know about these things from me instead of someone else. It's her and it's me and it's beautiful and natural and magical.

Birth is not a secret. It's not something that's shameful or shouldn't be shared or discussed. It's beautiful and amazing and should be celebrated.

Much like sex.

I don't plan on talking to H or B about sex tomorrow, but I will if they ask. Luckily H hasn't questioned how she or her brother ended up in my tummy, she just knows that's where they baked for awhile before coming out.

It's outrageous how young kids are these days who know too much about sex. I know of a little girl in kindergarten who was asked to give a blow job at recess. Another in the 4th grade who went home and asked what a pregnancy test was because her best friend had to take one. And that's here. Real people with real little girls that I know and see and talk to.

My mom was never secretive when it came to sex with us. She always answered our questions and was open about things.

Yet even I learned about sex at an incredibly young age.

I spent the night with a friend in the 2nd grade. She had several older brothers and in a trunk in their basement they had a stash of porn.

I remember it vividly. Her opening the trunk. Her telling me I will never believe the magazines her brothers read. Her not even knowing the words to explain what we were seeing in those pictures.

As an adult I know it was girl on girl pornography. It still makes my stomach churn a little just thinking about it to be honest.

At 11 a friend introduced me to the word "masturbation" and I had all kinds of questions for my mom about that. I just couldn't wrap my head around that. At all. I still played with dolls for goodness sakes.

At 14 I was introduced to video porn one New Year's Eve. It made me laugh; I totally did not get it.

At ages much too young I learned about how some men want these sexual things so much, they'll take it without asking.

And because of all of my much too young experiences and introductions into the world of sex, I want to shelter my children from it all for as long as humanly possible.

That way they are able to see sex for what it really is, not the skewed and immature versions some people think it is.

Like birth, I want them to know its beautiful. It's natural. Between two consenting adults who are in love it can be one of the most magical experiences in the world.

But how do you keep that sacred in such a sexed up world?

Even knowing what I knew, experiencing what I had, I felt completely naive in regards to sex when I got married. And I'd been shown and told and gone through a lot.

So in a world where kindergartners give blow jobs and 4th graders take pregnancy tests how in the world do you keep your children as children? Safe and protected until they're ready? And at the same time make sure you beat everyone to the punch before they can rock your baby's world and tell them about the things mommy has yet to tell?

I don't want them to be so young. But I also don't want someone else to be the one to enlighten them.

So where do you draw that line?

I don't know. Haven't even a remote clue at this point.

J says that's where knowing your child comes into play. Knowing their friends and their friends home lives. But to an extent, you can only know so much, no matter how friendly and informed you are where your children's immediate playmates are concerned.

A random kid at the park or at the YMCA play n' learn could be the one to drop the ball, not necessarily H or B's close friends. You just never know.

I'd like to think I have several more years to figure it out. But it doesn't look to be that way with the rate sex is being introduced to our children these days.

Night Owl

H has always been so much like J, especially where sleep is concerned. Neither one of them seem to really need any.

Well, last night I had H all snug in her bed at 830pm.

Come 9pm I'm sitting on the couch, wine in hand, about to watch a movie with J when I hear the oh-so familiar sound of pitter patter on the stairs.

"Can I share your wine?" my tiny dancer asked, peeking through the bars of the stairs.

I smiled at her. Really, this kid is incredulous. And absolutely irresistible, you can't help but smile at her. Even if you tucked her into bed 30 minutes ago.

"Probably not," I answered her truthfully.

"Well, can I sit on the couch with you?"

Typically I'd send her back to bed. Mostly because she'll go, and because I took a shower and had a totally different type of evening planned. But alas, I said, "Sure, kiddo," and patted on the couch, making space between J and I.

"What are we doing?" she asked, making herself comfy, little Duckie snuggling onto her lap.

"Getting ready to watch a movie," I answered, thankful we'd opted against D'Jango.

"You know this movie is rated R for language," J said. Not to make H go back to bed, but to give me the opportunity to opt out of the movie.

"You know our daughter is rated R for language, too," I laughed, after having listened to her tell everyone in Target "Holy shit!" while I shopped earlier that day.

J got the movie ready. I told him "sorry" because our night had clearly taken a drastic turn thanks to our little night owl.

"Don't be," he told me. "This is what I signed up for. Spending time with my wife and children. I couldn't think of a better way to spend my evening."

The movie was slow at first, and H and Duckie posed for a serious photo shoot on J's phone. H drank water out of a wine glass and gave tons of cuddles and kisses.

When the movie was over, past 11pm, and J and I were beat, H still wide awake, I took her into her room and kissed her good night. Again.

H wrapped her arms around my neck and told me, "Momma, you're my best friend. I'm so glad I got to watch a movie with you and papa all just for me."

Mood Food

I've always stood pretty firmly on the belief that food doesn't have an effect on my kiddos. Like, I've seen some kids eat one cookie or one pouch of artificially colored gummies, and they are off the walls mental. But not my kids (and I'm not saying this facetiously).

I've pretty much always known food effects me. Carbs and sugar bring me down, make me sluggish and zombie-like. Even J will say something to me when I start getting in a funk about eating better foods for me.

But I've never seen either effect on my kids until recently.

Oh boy.

After having a few fun-filled weeks of eating things that they are privy to on occasion, but certainly not every day - lots of crackers, Annie's fruit snacks (AFC free), macaroni and cheese and spaghetti, and more pancakes than could possibly fit in my children's bellies, I started to see it.

Badly.

The meltdowns were continuous and inconsolable. Whereas I can typically talk to H and she'll get her head together and calm down, she looked to be in a foggy haze and totally not coherent half the time. The sleep was more minimal than typical with crazy wakings. They were just bonkers.

It didn't happen from eating some graham crackers or a package of gummies, but from eating that daily.

J and I have always tried to have a pretty open policy to what they kids are allowed to eat, especially in other people's homes. It just seems to be the most respectful way of going about things. But from here on out, I think we'll have to be more leery on that.

The one thing that kept going through my mind during these epic meltdowns was how awful it has to be for some kids, who have these kinds of behavioral effects from the things they're given to eat, and then are also disciplined for how crazy they food makes them eat. What a lose-lose situation for little kids.

So if you're like me, and you're pretty certain food does not effect your kiddos, then try an experiment and see if their behavior changes if you take the sugar and processed foods largely out of their diets. It's like night and day.

Obviously H and B aren't angels all the time (don't tell my sister this - she might decide not to move in!), but the difference in their behavior and reasoning skills, as well as their sleep, is drastically different depending on what they eat.

I get it now.

B's big boy room!

It does not feel like the kiddos and I have been home for 5 whole days. I'm beat. I've hardly had a chance to sit down, hence the lack of posts.

My sweet little sister C is moving in with us this week, so I've been trying to get things around here in order - which most definitely include H and B's new bedrooms.

Yes, yes, laugh at will. They might not sleep in them, but they now have some mega cute bedrooms.

Actually, tonight is their first real night in them and H went gladly and willingly, and B even fell asleep with me sitting on the floor beside his bed, no cries or anything. So I'll take it. Even if it only lasts an hour.

The kids' rooms still needed painted when I got back from PA. A good friend of mine came up Thursday and helped play with the kids while I painted B's room. Then J and I worked like madmen Friday, Saturday and today getting things arranged and in order, as well as running to stores for last minute things such a little cubby for B's room and a twin sized mattress since we decided not to put H in the full-sized bed, but that's for a post about her bedroom (if I get around to it).

I love B's room now. Like truly, mega adore it. It's pretty simple and basic, no clutter. I adore it.

Here are some pics of the before. Remember, they shared the room then (though rarely slept in it). It's not very cute, but got the job done (because it's only job was look like these kids have a room if anyone comes here).

 

 

 

And here are the pics of B's room now. Despite the absolutely shitty lighting. I snapped these right before putting B in bed, so it's evening and the light is crap. Maybe if I ever get ambitious I'll update with better lit photos. Maybe...

 

B has the awesome bedroom furniture of being 2nd born. You'll see. It costs 1/14 of what H's did. I wish I was making that number up. The saddest part is I actually prefer his furniture to hers now. Go figure. Let's hope he doesn't hold it against me.

 

That super awesome space mobile is from Pottery Barn Kids. I guess the sun didn't quite make it into the picture. The little moon light and the bed are Ikea. You can't forget the sippy cup of water or "Buuunnnyyyy!" (aka Little Nut Brown Hare) or else bedtime won't happen (the giraffe pillow pet is H's, he was just photo bombing here). B wanted orange walls, so this was the orange J and I settled on (J wanted a more pastel, I wanted more vivid, so I made a comforter with the vivid orange instead).

This is his cute reading and play area. I think it's my favorite part of the room. I got the little circus tent that's hanging on top from Ikea, as well as the photo shelves that I used for his books. The little cubby is from Target, and if I'm being truthful, it is completely empty right now other than the little Thomas sitting there.

This is a view from standing in the doorway. You can just barely see the end of the bed to the left. That is the curtain and blackout curtain that has been in the room since H was an infant. I thought about switching it, but meh. Maybe some other time. The rug on the floor is from PBK, too.  And of course, there is a photo of my handsome boy plastered on the wall back there!

Looking into the room at a slight right angle. His little cross he received at his Baptism is almost visible hanging by the closet on the left hand side. And yes, we still need to hang the closet door back up.

Here's my Pinterest masterpiece. The dresser. That's a $30 Craigslist solid wood dresser, painter by moi. Of course, I'm cheap so I just used leftover bathroom paint, so it's not really a color that matches anything. Oh, well. The little clothes hamper is from Ikea and belongs in the closet, but H kept pulling it out and crawling into it and meowing like a cat. Whatever makes her happy.

Those amazing robot canvas pics came from Hobby Lobby. I picked those up while Christmas shopping when they were on sale for a whopping $15 each. Who can beat that? My favorite part about them is that they have glitter on them. For a little boy who loves his sparkle, they're perfect!

 

 

So there you have it. B's big boy room! I can't believe he is sleeping in his own room right now!

 

There is a lot of color in this room. Like a ton. Which I adore. And it's so much B's personality it fits him perfectly. Anyway, hope you enjoy seeing this as much as I had fun creating it!