Thumbs Down

Because some people do not enjoy reading about dumb ways I injure myself, I'm going to present this post in bullet points. It'll be like a Choose Your Own Adventure story, where if you are like my friend Kristin and you're absolutely terrified by sharp objects, you probably don't want to read this post. Instead, I'll suggest that you adventure over to Design Mom's site, where you can read an edited version of Tommy's birth story and reminisce about how my last medical mishap had a much happier ending.

For everyone else, journey on:

• Luke slept in Wed morning, and I thought, "Should I have another cup of coffee or should I bake?" I chose baking. BAD IDEA.
• I very successfully made a beautiful pie crust, and then moved on to cutting apples. I came across a Pampered Chef Apple Wedger which Shane had never even opened.
  
• I wedge one apple and also when they say it's an ingenious tool, they mean, WILL MAIM YOU, as I cut my thumb along with the apple.
  
• It's such a sharp blade that the cut doesn't actually hurt. At first, I think,oh, that's not too bad, then realize a flap of skin is hanging off of my thumb and it's bleeding rather profusely.
• RUH ROH
• I grab paper towel and apply pressure, then call my mom who says she will come over and take me to urgent care
• While waiting and bleeding everywhere, I email Beth, Steph, and Sarah and ask them to please keep emailing me so that I do not FREAK OUT.
  
• I grab one of Julie's cloth napkins because the paper towel is soaked with blood and wonder if I should remove the paper towel. My mom who is very squeamish yells at me for even considering removing it.
• My mom got to my house even faster than the night Tommy was born. I must've sounded much more anxious on the phone, though my dad claims that the night Tommy was born, she was driving too slow even though he told her to hurry.
  
• The lovely people at urgent care first refuse to treat me, even though my hand is covered in blood because I do not have a photo ID on me. They make me go upstairs to the clinic where I've gone before, and thankfully, they have a photo copy of my license. Oddly, while they refuse to treat me in urgent care without a photo ID, upstairs they have no problem handing me a photocopy of my license and my insurance card with my SS# written across the top. It's a good thing I'm me and not just someone who looks remotely like me.
  
• meanwhile I am still dripping blood.
• They check me in and go through my file, asking rather inane questions like, "You have no religion listed, would you like to update that?" and then say they can't see me without a $40 copay.
  
• My mom pays it, while snarkily saying, "Do you need to see MY ID?"
• The woman says, Oh no, we let anyone pay us! I consider punching her in the face, but I know she is just doing her job, and also, my hand hurts.
  
• Meanwhile I am wondering how many H1N1 germs Luke and Tommy are inhaling
• We sit in the waiting room for 30 minutes. At one point, I start to cry.
• Then I get this email from a friend about the ID issue:
  "So, if you were in a car accident and your car started on fire and you were burned over 50% of your body and your driver's license started on fire they'd be like "SORRY, BITCH." We can't treat you.
  I ain't never seen them ask for an id on ER or Grey's. SHIT."
• After reading it, I start laughing but then think that if I'm laughing, they might think my thumb is okay and make me wait longer, so I loudly say OUCH MY THUMB, and hope they'll think I'm delirious. There is no one else in the waiting room, thankfully.
  
• Finally, they call me back. First they ask me fun questions like, "Do you have a family history of diabetes?" and "When was your last period?" I'm starting to get histrionic and am thinking things like, "I AM GOING TO HAVE TO WALK AROUND WITH A HOLE IN MY THUMB FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE BECAUSE I CAN'T REMEMBER WHEN MY LAST PERIOD WAS, OH GOD WHY MEEEEEEEE."
• The nurse takes off the cloth napkin, then starts to rip away the paper towel while I am all OW OW CHUNK OF SKIN.
• They remove the paper towel and say, Oh, wow. Because they thought I was a big fat liar when I first walked in covered in blood.
  
• I am bleeding everywhere, like more than I ever thought possible.
• No one asks me if this makes me woozy. It doesn't, but a lot of people are freaked by blood so it amazed me that they were like, here, apply pressure, and just left me alone for large blocks of time.
• the Dr finally comes in and gives me a ring block of shots, in which they ring your thumb with numbing shots. Shots in your thumb hurt, but not as bad as having a baby. I tell him this and he hits me in the arm that is attached to my busted thumb and laughs. I like him. He also asks if the blood makes me feel faint. Two points for the doctor!
  
• The nurse comes in and irrigates it with saline. She uses an entire bottle and it is still bleeding heavily. She then gives me more gauze, says apply pressure and leaves.
• First I take a picture because I know I will want to harass Shane with it later.
  
• I wait for a very long time, still thinking about H1N1 germs and how Luke and Tommy are probably hungry and how I left the house wearing this because I couldn't figure out how to change clothes while keeping pressure on my thumb:
  
  But at least I wasn't naked for THIS medical mishap.
  
• the Dr comes back in, removes the gauze and says, Wasn't there skin attached? I look at a large, gaping hole in my thumb, look at the gauze and say, Oh. It came off. It's right there.
  
• He laughs and says, sweetie, you aren't getting stitches today. I consider asking if I can keep the piece of my thumb just to be a weirdo, but I don't.
  
• Then he leaves, and while I wait a million minutes for the nurse to return, I wrap my thumb piece up in the gauze so it can have a proper funeral shroud.
  
• She puts this foam gel stuff in the wound which should help it, but I'm still bleeding profusely. She removes and replaces gauze three times because I keep bleeding before another nurse comes in with super clotting powder. The nurses and I discuss all the various things I can make Shane do for me since he will be, quite literally, under my thumb.
  
• I leave and Luke is disappointed that the doctor did not give me a sucker. I kind of am too.
  
• TWO AND A HALF HOURS LATER, THE END. (except for the part where I have to change the dressing every day and oh, internet, I will spare you what that is like but I will just say GULP.)
  

You Capture: Food

So, I was very excited about this week's You Capture, because I set out this morning to make an apple-based recipe out The Pioneer Woman Cooks. I used to bake a lot, but I have not much in the past few years, so I'm trying to find my way back to that.

I was all cocky and excited because I used my mom's pie crust recipe (my mom's an amazing baker), and it was the BEST I'd ever done.

I was all, IN YOUR FACE, KITCHEN, as I moved on the apples.

What is it they say about pride? It goeth before a fall. Or a cut, in my case, when my thumb got into a fight with a Pampered Chef apple corer and guess who won? HINT: Not my thumb. So, one trip to the Urgent Care later, I'm sporting a super sweet dressing on my thumb (which will thankfully be JUST FINE in due time), and my Thanksgiving will be less one apple dessert.

And then, I burned my S'mores Pop Tarts, proving that today, food is not my friend.

It's okay, because I'm pretty sure we'll be BFFs again tomorrow. Except for the part where I really can't hold a fork. Or type, as it took me approximately 200 years to finish this post.

I Am Thankful

For him and him and him

All these boys. All mine.

Handmade For The Holidays

Last year, I took a pledge to buy handmade. I mostly did, and I loved it. This year, I'm taking the same pledge, and I want to share with you some of my Etsy favorites. And if you could share your favorites with me, plus head over to Beth's to check out some MORE great sellers, I would love that. Beth is running a Mr. Linky for handmade sellers, so if you're a seller, please link up your site.

I wish I could share everything I've bought this year, but many things I've bought or am planning to buy will be gifted to people who read this blog, and so, I will hold off on sharing those items with you. Today I'm going to talk about three of my favorite Etsy sellers and some great gift ideas. If you click on the above post from last year, I listed some other Etsy favorites!

I am a huge jewelry person. I am very big on handstamped jewelry, especially sterling silver. You'll rarely catch me wearing gold, simply because I prefer silver. So when I discovered Create Beauty Daily, it was instant love. I love these necklaces because they have a purpose and a meaning, and they remind me to do and be better when I wear them. Since my first purchase, I've become friends with Cameron, and she is truly as beautiful as the jewelry she creates. But enough about that, let me share with you my most recent purchase from her.

Isn't that gorgeous? I asked her if she could make a necklace with lyrics from one of my favorite songs, Waiting For My Real Life To Begin. Perhaps someone you love has a special song or a quote that they hold dear to them, perhaps a song that you share. What a beautiful, personal gift that would make. And! Cameron is offering a special sale on Black Friday. Free shipping on all orders, orders of $65 or more receive a free pair of earrings, and certain pieces will be on sale. You better shop early, because I'll be hitting up that sale!

I also love purses, so much that it pains me to carry a diaper bag most of the time. I'm often looking for purses that are still cute, but yet have some functionality as a diaper bag, though I'm learning more and more that all I really need to carry with me is just one diaper. I recently acquired this clutch from Julie Vision Designs, and I am in love.

It is the perfect size to take out to dinner or to the movies and is still roomy enough for me to carry my keys, license, debit card, iPhone, and a diaper.

Isn't that fabulous? This photo does not do justice to the gorgeous gold sheen the fabric has, but trust me when I say it's both beautiful and impeccably made. Although Julie does not currently have anything listed in her shop, I've been told that if you convo her, she'll happily talk clutches with you. And I've also been told that she has more of the fabric she used on mine, so we can be purse twinsies! Julie also makes gorgeous glass bead jewelry, and this summer, she custom made me these cloth napkins, which we use EVERY single day. They've withstood hundreds of washings without so much as a fray.

Last but not least, I want to share with an ornament maker who is very near and dear to my heart. My Aunt Mary runs a store called Dough Ditties, full of meticulously crafted salt dough ornaments and creations. I've always admired her ability to create in such a small, challenging medium. I am currently loving this Nativity ornament that she has in her shop.

It is very simple, yet very powerful and would make a great gift for someone to hang on their tree for years to come. I can personally attest to the lasting power of these ornaments, as the ornament she made when I was born is still in perfect condition 27 years later. We hang it front and center on the tree every year, and how I wish I had it out right now to share a picture, but I promise to share one once our tree is up and decorated. The ornament is a baby, of course, with my name and birth information on it, which quite honestly, would be a perfect gift for anyone who has had a baby this year (you know, like me). Although there are many stores that sell baby's first Christmas ornaments, this would be much more personal, and you have my guarantee that it'll last through even the time when that baby is grown up and having babies of his/her own.

Except

I've come a long way from the high school days of skipping meals and desserts and pinching my side, while saying that I needed to lose weight. Once at a swimming party, I came out of the bathroom in my teeny bikini and everyone was quiet, until one girl finally said, "Erin. You're so skinny," and not in a good way. I don't remember what I said, but I'm sure I insisted that I wasn't.

Except. I weighed 100 pounds.

My body has been through a lot since then. It has stretched and widened to grow a nine pound baby. It bears the battle scars of childbirth and nursing. It has felt sleepless nights and held feverish babies and reached breaking points but still kept going. It's a body that would've made my 18 year old self recoil in horror.

Except. It's beautiful.

Once when I was 13, my grandma overheard me say that I wished I could get plastic surgery to remove my freckles. She yelled me, angrily. The angriest I've ever heard my grandma. She told me they were beautiful, they were special, that they made me who I am. She didn't say, Oh, I know, I hate mine, too. Instead, she stopped and made me love them. And I have, every day since then. I don't have girls, but I teach girls. I have friends with daughters. And for them, I will love my body. For them, I will stop pointing out flaws and pinching fat. For them, I will remember what my grandma taught me. For them, I will never, ever again skip dessert. For them, I will look at photos of myself and point out the good. For them, I will enjoy looking at photos of myself, whether they're taken on days when I'm at my best.

Or days when I haven't slept.

For them, I will love myself.

You Capture: Sunrise/Sunset

There hasn't been much sun in my area of the world lately. I'm going to be honest, there might be sun in the morning, but the two sweet hours from 5 to 7 are about the only times I get to sleep because Shane takes Tommy, and then, I spend time snuggling with the boys. And as much as I love You Capture, I also love sleep. And snuggling.

So instead, I captured those first snuggly moments when we wake up, after the sun rises...

And the blissful, quiet moments after it sets...

And all the moments in between, when my days are always bright, no matter how cloudy it may be.

Hi, this is where I was born!

How Sweet The Sound

Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come;
'Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far
and Grace will lead me home.

Gratitude and grace go hand in hand. It takes grace to have gratitude for all that's in your life, even in those hours where you might feel lost. Truly, there is so much in my life for which I am grateful. I am grateful that even though I don't want to work outside of the home, I have a job. I am grateful for this in a tough economic time when so many would give so much that have a full-time job with good health insurance.

But what I am really grateful for are my two beautiful, healthy boys. I've talked before about how blessed and how grateful I am to get pregnant easily, to have easy pregnancies and deliveries. There's another side that I don't talk about often, though. I don't talk much about how as a rape survivor, I had Pelvic Inflammatory Disease. I remember reading up on it post diagnosis, and learning that 1 in 10 women will become infertile after having PID one time. ONE in TEN. If the odds of winning the lottery were 1 in 10, I would play every single day. I was only 19, but I knew I wanted children, and learning that those children might be taken away from me because of a choice I didn't make? Crushed me.

When we've been here ten thousand years
Bright shining as the sun.
We've no less days to sing God's praise
Than when we've first begun.

And so from that time on until I had a positive pregnancy test with Luke, I carried those fears in the back of my mind. The day I had a positive pregnancy test, after our first try, I felt gratitude, I felt victory. I felt so much gratitude for this gift, I felt gratitude for even though so much was taken from me in one act, there was so much that I still had. A veil had been lifted and finally, finally, I felt I could emerge from the darkness I'd lived in for the past five years. I felt that I could forgive. I'll never forget, but I forgave this man for taking so much from me, simply because he didn't take everything.

Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease,
I shall possess within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.

And now, two healthy, beautiful boys later, I haven't lost that gratitude. I remember a time when there was so much darkness in my life, so much fear, and in the end, I am grateful for that time. Yes, I am grateful because that time in my life showed me that there is a grace far bigger than me, a grace that can lead us out of the darkness--if we only believe.

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.

Entry submitted to Scribbit's November Write-away Contest

Say What?

On the blogosphere, it's often discussed how insulting it is to assume that stay-at-home moms do nothing all day long. It's discussed how you should never say, "What DO you do all day?" or assume that moms just lounge around on the couch and eat bon bons all day. We all know nothing is further from the truth, and I agree that it is infuriating that some people have such an attitude toward mothering.

But let's talk about working moms and the comments we endure, too. At the end of my maternity leave with Luke, I remember wanting to hurt people for the things they say. And now I'm here again, as my maternity leave is drawing to a close. I'll freely admit that I'm sensitive, but I also know that sometimes people say things without thinking, without realizing.

So, don't tell me that you're jealous that I'll get to leave the house, that there are days when you wish you could get out. I'm sure there are. I *know* there are, but when you're lucky enough to have the CHOICE to stay home, please don't say that to someone who doesn't have the choice. Because...you're not jealous. You're not jealous that I'll have to leave my six month old to expend all of my energy on other people's children. You're not jealous that I'll spend every break I have pumping, wishing that I could just have my baby in my arms. And please do not tell me that you stay home because you don't want someone else to raise your children. It'll make me feel like a second-rate mom, and I promise you, I'm still the one raising my children.
Instead tell me that you can't imagine how hard it will be for me, that although there are days when you wish you could have a break, you know how lucky you are. Because you are. So very lucky. That said, don't think you can't vent to me when the days are tough because I'll listen and understand. Just don't say the J word.

Don't tell me that if I just make a few sacrifices, I can stay home with my children. Don't you think we've crunched numbers and poured over our bank accounts with a fine-toothed comb? We have. I've spent most of my maternity leave applying for part-time jobs and jobs at daycares where I could take my children, but nothing has panned out. Nothing.
Instead tell me you'll keep your eyes open for something that might work for me. Tell me you'll let people know that if they need a reading or writing tutor for their children, I'm available.
Or maybe, just give me a hug, because I could use that, too.

Don't point out to me how I only have two months of leave left. Don't you think I have it all blocked out in my mind, down to the last minute practically? Don't add in that you bet it went fast or that you bet I don't want to go back, because how do I respond to that? Thinking about it makes me cry, so how do you THINK I feel about it?
Instead give me something to look forward to... tell me about something you'd like to do with me before I go back to work. Or better yet, something you'd like to do after I go back to work. Acknowledge that it'll be hard, but that you know I can do it. And then? Let me know that you'll be there for me, please, because if ever I'm going to need a shoulder to cry on, it'll be in January.

What do you wish people would never say to you? Doesn't have to deal with working or not working, just something that makes you twitchy.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to enjoy my last two months of sitting on the couch and eating bon bons.

Iron Butterfly

A week ago, I wrote about my new iron. I promised you pictures, but then I was so busy ironing that I kind of forgot to share those pictures. I wish I had a video to show you, but I am alas, the only blogger on the world wide web to not own a video camera of any sort. Lucky for you, I take hilarious photos. Also lucky for you, I'm not modest.

When the iron first came, I wasn't sure what it was. It looked like a strange futuristic device to me. In the hopes that it was a robot maid, I told it to go fold my laundry. When it just sat there, I walked away and ignored it, until I saw Luke doing this.

(NOT plugged in, please do not call CPS!)

And then I was all, so THAT's how that thing works. After that, I announced to Shane that we now owned an iron. He threw several shirts at me, mumbling something about how he now no longer has to be that guy with the wrinkled shirts. I got a little angry at the iron for causing me MORE work, so I glared at it for awhile.

See all those shirts in the background? I told you he threw shirts at me.

When I finally gave in and ironed Shane's stupidshirts, I realized just how easy this iron is. It took me under a minute to get each shirt completely wrinkle-free. I will admit to utilizing the steam tool, which shot out a pretty powerful burst of steam and cleared out some of the hard to reach wrinkles.

I hear some people have a fancy device called an ironing board. I bet these people also have robot maids. I, however, have a table and a towel.

Luke was watching me iron and in the midst of it, removed his shirt and said, "Iron my blue shirt!" At first I said, "Iron your own shirt!"

But then he put his Tyrannosaurus Rex on the table and was all, "Iron my shirt...OR ELSE," so I thought it'd be a wise choice.

Unfortunately, while I was ironing, he colored on his face with a marker, but at least he looked styling in his crisp shirt!


When I last wrote about the iron, several of you left comments in the form of also hating ironing (fist bump of solidarity, sisters!), and I just want to follow up with that. I really, really do hate ironing, but this iron really makes it so easy. Like I said, I was able to do each of Shane's dress shirts in a minute or less. The steam feature makes it so that if you don't have time to iron OR if you have a garment that can't be ironed, you can still quickly remove wrinkles.
I also like that this iron has an auto shut off feature. This is really important for me because I can't count the number of times that I've left the house with candles burning or something turned on (please don't tell my husband).
I really do find myself leaning more toward ironing than I ever did before. I'm finding that in the time that it takes to run the dryer again to remove wrinkles from shirts, I can actually have the shirts ironed and hung in the closet. So while it used to seem like the dryer was the quick easy way, the reality is that this iron is much quicker--and our clothes look better for it!

Now that I no longer need a robot maid to iron my clothes, I would most definitely have my robot maid clean the bathroom and put the laundry away, my two least favorite chores. Oh, and clean the microwave. I eat a LOT of bacon and our very old microwave takes forever to cook it and is a pain to clean, but all the bacon eating I do makes it necessary to clean it often. See, I need a robot maid. Or maybe a new microwave, but a robot maid sounds so much more appealing. What would your robot maid do?

I received a Panasonic iron in exchange for this review. Still waiting on that robot maid...

Life Began When I Saw Your Face

As you wander through this troubled world
In search of all things beautiful
You can close your eyes when you're miles away
And hear my voice like a serenade

I slip in bed when you're asleep
To hold you close and feel your breath on me
Tomorrow there'll be so much to do
So tonight I'll drift in a dream with you

They didn't have you where I come from
Never knew the best was yet to come


Lullaby~Dixie Chicks
Photos by Crooked Eyebrow

You Got A Fast Car

It recently came to my attention that my high school reunion is next summer. Once I stopped having a panic attack over how very old I am because I swear to you, I was just in high school YESTERDAY, I realized that this meant that next summer, Shane and I will have been together for ten years.

Ten years ago, I was sitting in Themes in Lit class. Every time I'd ace a paper or test, I'd take his glowing compliments over my writing to mean that he wanted to marry me. Probably he just meant that I was better than the derelicts in my class (seriously), but a girl could dream, right?

This means that almost ten years ago, I had my last first kiss with him. I'll never kiss anyone for the first time again, except for our sweet babies. And as far as first kisses go, it was amazing and full of fireworks and floating on air. We only "dated" two weeks before he said I love you. I didn't say it back because I was only 18 and leaving for college in just days and love was such a big thing for me, too big to acknowledge. I had to make sure that I loved him for him and not for the thrill of someone older who had a house and a car and a job. And then he told me to spread my wings and not break too many boys' hearts. I didn't break any hearts. I couldn't, because I left my heart with him. When boys would ask, I'd tell them I had a boyfriend, even though I kind of didn't know if I did or not. People sometimes act like I did myself a disservice by going off to college attached, but I don't think that's the case. I still had fun and made friends, but I'm glad I made the choice I did.

Because if I hadn't, I might not have this.

Photos by Beth Fletcher Photography

If Ever

I wonder if ever there will come a day when I'll be able to look at Luke and Tommy and not marvel at how they came to be mine.

Or if I'll be a 90 year old woman shaking my empty martini glass at them (because I plan to drink a LOT in my old age), saying, "I can't believe you're mine!"

I'm thinking I'll still get chills at them...

And forever wonder at how lucky I am.


Photos by Beth Fletcher Photography

Fall To Fall

Almost exactly one year ago, Beth did our family photos. We looked like this:

A year later, we look like this. I've lost ten pounds and some hair, but I have gained SO SO MUCH.
See?

The sling I'm wearing is a Sakura Bloom that I borrowed from Steph, and I love it so much that when I give it back to her I might actually do that thing when you hand something to someone but then you refuse to let go.

Luke was being a punk and refusing to get anywhere near the camera, but the joke is on him because that photo turned out so lovely.




Photos by Beth Fletcher Photography. If you live in Northwest Indiana, you should definitely hire her, because she is obviously so very amazing at what she does.

These Two

Are not very good at having their photos taken (but check back tomorrow for some amazing photos by Beth, because if anyone could capture good shots of these two, it'd be her).

They are blurs of movement. Yesterday I caught Tommy inch-worming toward a toy that had caught his eye. He didn't make it very far, but he moved off the blanket. He rolls back and forth and twists and turns when I change his diaper. He laughs a lot, but mostly when I fly him through the air and especially at night when I take off all his clothes before his bath. He lets me kiss his nose somewhere around a million times a day. When he nurses, he plays with my necklace and touches my chin. He thinks his big brother is the center of the universe. Wherever Luke is, Tommy is watching and listening and smiling.

Luke is my buddy. He's stubborn and strong-willed, just like his mama. We have our moments where we butt heads, and he definitely has his two year old days. But more often than not, he has his days where he hugs and loves and colors pictures for everyone he's ever met in his entire life. Shane and I taught him our first names because that's important in case he ever gets lost, and the other day, he said, "Erin. Be quiet, Erin!" Even though he'd just told me to be quiet, I loved him so much at that moment. His sitter tells me that she can count on Luke to steer the other kids in the right direction and how she never has to give him time outs (if only we could repeat that at home!). He has big brown eyes and if I leave my eyeshadow within his reach, he puts on makeup before I can stop him, and you know, for a two year old? He does a pretty good job. The other night my dad made him salmon stir fry, and he kept saying, "More pish, please, Papa," because he just loves food, all food.

The other day my dad joked that the universe has a funny way of laughing at us, because if ever there was a least likely candidate to have two BOYS, it'd be me. But then he said that maybe the universe knows just what we need.

I think he's right.

You Capture: Anything Goes

Originally, I planned on still tying my photos together with a theme even though this week's You Capture was a free for all, but I couldn't really come up with a theme. So instead, I have a very loose theme called: "Photos I took this week that I really like."

I've been working on a Christmas present for my mom and in the midst of doing so, Luke and I used leaves from my parents' burning bush to make a heart.

While at their house, we walked through the woods where Luke was enamored with this truck. This truck was in the woods when my parents bought their house, and it's so much a part of the place now that if you look very closely, you can see that the tree in the foreground has actually grown through a center of one of the metal parts of the truck.

There are many things that I dislike about our house, but what I do like is the view out the back windows. It's peaceful.

And of course, the obligatory pictures of kids:


p.s. Today is Sarah's birthday. You should most definitely wish her a happy birthday because she is so very special.

Iron Maiden

If you've ever read my Blogger profile page (and if you haven't, you should because my answer to the question is really quite amazing), you'd know that I hate housework. I do enough to keep my house livable (read: bug free. Except for those stupid asian beetles, which you can't really prevent), but you will never find me gleefully scrubbing the kitchen floor.

My husband still loves me despite this character flaw, but the other day, he hinted that perhaps his work shirts were a little wrinkly. And that perhaps my method of just repeatedly throwing things in the dryer wasn't working for his dress shirts. I said that this was a problem, since I was pretty sure that we received an iron for a wedding gift, but I was also pretty sure that I had no idea where it was. He suggested getting a new iron, and I said, "Yeah, okay" and then I pretended that our conversation never occurred. Now before you're all, "Make him do his OWN LAUNDRY, GIRL POWER," let me clarify that my husband does ALL the cooking and grocery shopping, so I'm mostly content to do laundry duty.
He brought it up again, and I was all, "Listen, if someone wants to send me a robot maid in exchange for a blog review, then your clothes will get ironed. Otherwise, don't hold your breath."

Panasonic did not send me a robot maid, but they DID send me the Panasonic 360* Quick Steam/Dry Iron. When it arrived, my husband was so excited that he threw about ten shirts at me and told me to get to work. Now, it's been years since I last ironed something, but I do remember what a pain it is because it seemed like the end of the iron always made more wrinkles. Panasonic has effectively solved this problem by creating an iron that is pointed on both ends. It also has a steam jet button, which means that you can get wrinkles out even faster. See above for why I like anything that promises faster results when it comes to housework. I found that the steam jet button really did work, especially around hard to iron areas like buttonholes.

I found this iron to be so user friendly that when I do find a company to send me a robot maid, I probably will still do the ironing myself while the robot maid cleans my bathrooms. Now that I've shared a tip with you on how you can make ironing easier, I would love tips on how you make other facets of housework easier. Someone recently told me that they don't light candles until the house is clean, so I've been using that as motivation to get each room clean, too, because I love candles! Oh, and if your tip involves having a robot maid, I'm going to hate you. Also, check back in a few days because I took some hilarious, yet informative, photos of me using the iron, but I'm too lazybusy ironing to upload them at the moment.

I did receive an iron for this review. I did not, sadly, receive a robot maid.

Counting The Ways To Where You Are

A year can seem so short. 365 days. One birthday. A few holidays. But the reality is that so much can change in a year.

One year ago today, I got that flashing digital readout.
My hands were shaking so badly that I had to take this picture over and over, and this was still the best I could do.
I was home alone. Shane was picking Luke up at my parents' after work, and I took advantage of the quiet to test--feeling in my heart of hearts that I'd throw it away, disappointed. I didn't. I ran up and down the stairs looking at the test saying OHMYGOD over and over. I don't know why I ran up and down the stairs (and to one up any of you from making the joke, yes, perhaps I WAS preparing to eventually have a baby on said stairs), but it seemed like the right thing at the time. Then I called Keely and continued to OHMYGOD all over the place. I didn't think I was pregnant because I spotted a few days before my period was due and then really spotted the night it was due. It was Election Night, so I shrugged off the lack of pregnancy and drank a margarita (okay, three) to celebrate the election. Then the spotting stopped. We went to visit Shane's dad in the hospital the next day after a knee surgery, and I remember wanting to vomit at all the hospital smells. When we left, I mentioned to Shane that it smelled, and he said he didn't notice anything. That was my first inkling of a maybe. I took a test, really though, because I was throwing Shane a surprise party (by the way, today is his birthday and if he wasn't so old that he doesn't have a twitter or a blog or ANYTHING except Hotmail, I'd tell you to go wish him happy birthday) and wanted to make sure I could drink. Ironically, that's the same reason I tested with Luke. Most people get drunk and then get pregnant, I just find out I'm pregnant when I'm thinking of getting drunk.

I was scared but hopeful. We usually wait until we see a heartbeat to tell, but Shane drank too much at his surprise party and told my parents. So then we told his parents. Everyone at the surprise party guessed when I was all, No, thank you, I would not like a Jaegerbomb. Instead I will enjoy this delicious ice water. And then Beth found out. I liked it, though. When we finally saw that flickering heartbeat at ten weeks, I was relieved but thankful for all the love I'd felt up until that moment.
I took my first belly shot at 13 weeks. When I got pregnant, I made a vow to myself that I was going to be a cute pregnant woman, and I hope it's okay to say this, but I never felt more beautiful than when I was pregnant with Tommy. Not even on my wedding day. When Beth did my maternity shots, Keely told me that I looked more beautiful than in my wedding photos, and you know, I think she was right. There was just SO MUCH LIFE inside of me, and I relished every single moment.

At the end, I didn't want to stop being pregnant, I just so badly wanted to meet my sweet baby. At 36 weeks, I had my first dream about the baby, and do you remember that I dreamt that I had a baby on the kitchen floor? I didn't remember until I started writing this post and looked back in my archives, but oh my goodness, I was off by about five steps! Then he was here, and it was the craziest, sweetest, most surreal seven minutes of my life. Sometimes I still can't believe it.

This was our very first photo, taken with my phone. Tommy was still under the warm blankets , cuddled against my bare skin (does this count as posting a naked photo of myself? Because I was. Totally naked.). That smile is perhaps the most genuine smile I've ever had. I was scared, you know. I don't talk about this much, but I was scared. I was frightened we'd get to the hospital and they'd take him away from me. I was frightened they'd take him to the nursery and poke and prod him, but they didn't. Frightened they'd judge us, frightened someone would yell at us for not leaving on time (when deep down I knew that it happened much quicker than anyone could have anticipated), just so scared of what would happen. When we first came into the ER, a doctor came running over and started to peel back the blankets, and my sweet EMTs shooed him away. I owe so much to those women and to the nurses who let me hold my Tommy for hours and nurse him and love him before anyone even suggested weighing him or examining him.
And then, the outpouring of love that followed. The emails from my girls. The visits that morning. The hugs and joy and even the tweets and emails and comments from all of you. I've never felt so lifted, so surrounded with love in my life.
The sweetness that has been in my life for this past year is overwhelming, and life? It just keeps getting better and better.

(Same wall as in my maternity photo. I'm so clever. Also, please don't judge my footwear. We'd just been hiking.)

I don't know what I've done to deserve this past year. I'm not sure that I really do deserve it, but oh, am I ever thankful for the blessings of the past 365 days...and all the blessings that are yet to come.

Spooktacular

In my esteemed (and totally awesome) opinion, Halloween needs to happen more than once a year, for the simple reason of the beauty of a holiday that involves FREE CANDY. I love Halloween so much that I trick or treated every year until I was 18. I wasn't one of those dumb high school kids that went around without a costume, either, I brought it. One year, I went as Hester Prynne in a Puritanical dress with a red letter A and a Cabbage Patch doll. Most people were like, Are you a... witch? but one woman said, "Hester Prynne, thou wilt be damned!" as she handed me candy, and I will forever remember her.
ANYWAY, the point is that I really like Halloween, especially now that I have kids. This year, we had three solid nights of Halloween activities, and it was so much fun!

Thursday night, I took Luke and Tommy to a Halloween party at the nursing home where my mom works. The party ended in the kids going trick or treating with the people who wanted to participate, and I know it really made some of their days seeing the kids. Also, one old woman on the Alzheimer's ward totally tried to steal Luke, which made MY day (and I maybe kind of didn't stop her and instead was all, HEY, free babysitting!).

Friday night, we went to a Halloween party at Beth's. There was SO MUCH delicious food, Rock Band, and fun times. Luke played well with the other kids, I think, except for as we were leaving, Steph's son said, "Luke ate all of my candy!" But it's probably not such a surprise that my kid would be a candy thief, is it? Luckily, I turned it into an amazing lesson called, "You don't steal candy, unless you're a mom then all candy is FAIR GAME." Then Luke said he was a mom, and I was all YEAH RIGHT, and he told me that he was a mom to his toy lawn mower and that it came out of his mouth. I was like, Yeah, no, that doesn't count, SORRY.

I was really excited to be a geisha (dress and idea from Beth, thank you) because it meant that I could finally use this red eyeshadow I've owned for four years and never had any chance to use, as well as my red lipstick. Which means that it wasn't a totally wasteful purchase.
Although thematically our costumes did not match at all, Shane and Tommy matched, and I think they were beyond cute.

Saturday, we went trick-or-treating of course. We had so many people at our house that we ended up recycling some of Luke's candy, but not before I removed all of the peanut butter cups. Oh, and I ate so much candy that I swore off candy forever... a vow which lasted all of five minutes before I stumbled across a package of Reese's pieces.

I hope everyone had a great Halloween! Or if you don't celebrate, I hope you enjoyed your last weekend of October. And remember, when I become President (which is sure to happen just as soon as I'm 35, even though it appears that I'll turn 35 in 2017 which is NOT an election year. So either I'll wait a few years, or I'll organize a coup to overthrow the US government), Halloween WILL occur more than once a year.