Happy Together

Ever since the boys have been big enough to bathe together, it's been my favorite moments of togetherness. I love it. They splash and play and it's our last few minutes of together time before bed. Luke was in the middle of blowing raspberries to make Tommy laugh.

But my SECOND favorite moment of togetherness? When all sorts of delicious ingredients, like apples, cinnamon, sugar, and okay, Crisco (sorry, health nuts, I love me some Crisco) come together to create this beauty. I won't tell you how many apple dumplings I've eaten since Sunday, but it's safe to say that it's somewhere between three and A LOT.

(p.s. Tommy is holding a container of shave gel! He likes to drag down all of my shampoos and other bottles.)

Negative

I took a pregnancy test today. It was negative. For the first time in my married life, I was happy to see the word NOT before the word pregnant. It's true. And I only allowed myself 2.5 seconds of happiness before the guilt set in; guilt at knowing how many women have to see that same result for years and years, when they'd wish for the opposite. How could I be so selfish, because of course I'd be happy with a baby (and at the least, it'd explain why my cycle is MIA), but yet, the realism at knowing that the timing just isn't right.

See, we place so many expectations on ourselves, on our thoughts and our reactions. And then the reactions of others, those that are quick to judge without really knowing where you're coming from. Without knowing that your 15 month old still wakes up at 4AM most mornings and how you miss your husband because you're so tired and how maybe you're just not ready to give up your body (and your wine) yet and how you haven't financially recovered from your last maternity leave so the thought of another one made you GULP.

It's okay, you know, to take things for granted sometimes. It's okay to complain and be selfish, too, because if we never had bad feelings or bad times or times when we just wanted things to ourselves, we wouldn't appreciate the good feelings and the good times and the times of selflessness quite so much. Is it okay to do it all the time? No, but not a one of us can be gracious ALL THE TIME and if you know someone you believe is, they're probably not. They're probably just afraid to say otherwise, for fear of how people might react.

Today I hope you'll allow yourself to be a little selfish. It's okay. You're worth it.

Monday, Monday

How was your weekend, this first weekend of Autumn? Mine was lovely, so that I hate to let it go.

Saturday, Julie came to visit, and I know I've talked before about how and why Julie means so much to me, but can I just reiterate how fabulous she is? Because this was her birthday weekend, and she chose to spend it at my house (which probably makes her a little crazy). We went apple picking and picked almost forty pounds (I am not exaggerating) of apples--most of which were picked by Luke.

We probably should have weighed Tommy after we left, because I'm pretty sure that he ate several pounds of apples while Luke was picking. What can I say? The boy likes fruit.

After apple picking, I sent the boys home and we met friends for dinner, followed by ice cream until I seriously considered the logistics of driving home pantsless. You'll be thankful to know that I did not, but as soon as I got home: yoga pants.
The next morning, Julie and I started baking right away, because ON HER BIRTHDAY, she had the idea of making her grandma's apple dumplings and delivering them to people. I know, right? ON HER BIRTHDAY. On my birthday, I insist that the entire world stop spinning and everyone throw rose petals at my feet. So, we dove headfirst into baking, pausing only to sit and eat the first few dumplings we made.



Beautiful, yes? We delivered apple dumplings, sneaking them onto porches like sugar ninjas. And then we totally bought a large pizza and ate it while we were driving, because Julie is one of those friends who won't judge when you wipe your buttery breadstick fingers on your (already stained) yoga pants.

Apple dumplings, food, friends, and family... could you ask for a better weekend?
Oh, and lest I forget to mention... on Julie's birthday, I woke up to the news that she was most likely going to share her birthday with Sarah's baby. If you don't follow Sarah, you must go read and see what a rockstar she is. Is there anything better than a day when a new baby joins your world? I don't think so.

Photo Card Creations {Giveaway!}

I was recently contacted by Photo Card Creations, a company I'd previously not heard of, but now love. The timing couldn't have been better, because I was a month past Tommy's birthday party and still struggling with getting out thank you cards. In my life before kids, I was a thank you card master. Thank you cards for my wedding shower went out the day after it took place. Thank you cards for our wedding were out within two weeks of our wedding date. And lest you think I just did a generic thank you, I thanked everyone for the specific gift and wrote a personal note. I just think it's important, you know? And then I had kids and MAN, it is HARD.
I am really a huge fan of sending out photo cards, simply because grandparents usually love to display them on the fridge and it's much cheaper than buying wallet photos to send to everyone.

So of course, I chose to make thank you cards for Tommy's first birthday party, featuring a photo of him right where he was born, as well as a photo of his face post-smash cake (see below for a shot of the front of the card). The quality of the cards was wonderful and the turn around was super fast, which made me happy because I was already feeling like a slacker for not sending out thank you cards. I'm also happy that we received a lot of compliments on our pretty thank you cards and both grandparents have given them fridge space.
Photo Card Creations doesn't just sell thank you cards, though, they also specialize in holiday cards, birth announcements (they even have adoption birth announcements, which I LOVE), as well as many other types of announcements and invitations. Their designs are current (and so cute) and they're more than happy to work with you to create the perfect, special card for your needs.

Because I love to give back to my readers (that's you), I'm so pleased to share that Photo Card Creations is offering you a chance to win a $35 Coupon towards the purchase of Custom Photo Cards! They are continuously introducing new card designs and would LOVE your feedback on their cards! Just leave a comment below telling us which card style is your favorite and why you'd like to win this Giveaway. Winner will be randomly picked and posted on October 1st! Good luck!

Concrete Dragons

It's no secret that I love snapdragons. I carried them in my wedding flowers. I plant them in my flower garden every year. My mom would probably woefully tell you that I destroyed more of them than I count, just to see the dragon's mouth open and close.

The other day, coming home from work, I almost stepped on this little beauty. Somehow it traveled from my flower garden to the most unlikeliest of places, a small crack in the cement of our front walk. Despite no one watering it and the tiny trampling feet that cross this spot many times a day, it managed to bloom and thrive.


Thanks little flower, for reminding me that I can bloom and grow in spite of the circumstances.

Girls Girls Girls

Gretchen smiles, but it's not a smale, and I'm thinking that girls never really smile at each other because they don't know how and don't want to know how and there's probably no one to teach us how, cause grown up girls don't know either. - Toni Cade Bambara


The above quote is from a short story that I teach my students every year and every year, it strikes me as so poignant. I want to highlight it and frame it, because it's so very true. Isn't it? I never had really close girl friends growing up. The few I did have, well, our smiles were always veiled by judgment. Once a girl who I called my best friend got mad at me because I wore the same shirt she had, only in a different color. I didn't know she had the same shirt. My mom bought it for me, and I'd never seen her wear the shirt. I explained this to her, but she flounced off. I mean, really, what does it matter? It wasn't like we were both wearing the same shirt on the same day. This is why I had mainly guy friends. See, they knew how to smile and they didn't care what shirts I wore. When I coached the dance team my first year of teaching, I used to periodically lecture the girls that if they called each other names, implying that someone was cheap or slept around or any of that, then they made it okay for men to call them those names, too. And it's not okay, of course.

I've learned a lot since then. I have a group of amazing girl friends who will always get my smiles. Once recently, I went to dinner and a friend was wearing the same dress. We laughed about it. I said I was jealous because hers was longer on her than mine, but it was funny. That's all, because somehow along the way, I've learned to smile at girls.



It's still true, though, that sometimes I don't smile at girls. Sometimes I judge myself against them, frowning that they're skinnier than me, that they still have a flat childless stomach and when they brag about losing weight, it's so EASY for them because they haven't had kids. But see, that's not their fault. And I don't really mind my post-baby belly, because it's brought such good things to my life.



Why is it, though, that we can't just take other women at face value? That we have to judge their clothing choices, their mothering choices, and why can't we just smile, without having to first hide a frown? What if instead of measuring ourselves AGAINST them, we measure ourselves WITH them? If instead of wishing we had what they have, we love what we have, too. Because I might not have a flat stomach, but I have two beautiful children... and maybe she would trade her flat stomach for that.

And maybe for all the girls out there that watch us, whether they're daughters or nieces or just girls in our lives, maybe we can teach them to smile. In teaching them to smile, maybe we can teach everyone to respect and love and not live life wishing that they had something else--instead, maybe we could teach them to live life being proud and happy in what they are, while also being proud and happy of those around them.



We don't practice real smiling every day, you know, cause maybe we too busy being flowers or fairies or strawberries instead of something honest and worthy of respect...you know...like being people. - Toni Cade Bambara

The Time I Almost Failed My Driving Test *GlassesUSA

I started wearing eyeglasses when I was 16. That number not a coincedence. In fact, although I passed the driving portion of my test with only a few points knocked off on parallel parking (because it was in a subdivision and the guy whose car she made me park by came outside and STARED AT ME) and scored an A+ on the written portion, I failed the vision exam. Yes, failed. First, I insisted that the machine was broken because I saw nothing on the left side, until the examiner came around looked at the machine and pointed out that she could see the left side just fine.

As you can imagine, I turned around and looked at my mom panicked, because who fails the eye portion of the driver's license test!? My mom came over and promised the woman that she'd take me to get prescription glasses immediately. The woman was very kind and gave me my license, taking my mom's word. And true to my mom's word, she did take me immediately and hey, apparently I was almost legally blind in my left eye--but my right eye spent all these years overcompensating and had near perfect vision, which was why I'd made it so far without a noticeable vision problem.

But who wants to get glasses at sixteen!? Not me. I picked out the least noticeable pair of glasses and endured a year with them, until I could finally, blissfully wear contacts. Since then, though, I've learned to love glasses. They're fun and can be an accessory, but they're also so expensive. Since I have a blind spot in my left eye that requires expensive, custom contacts, I pretty much shoot my insurance quota right away. So if I get glasses, they come out of pocket and do you know how much the optometrist charges?

I've never bought prescription eyeglasses anywhere other than the optometrist, so I was really excited when Glasses USA contacted me about a review. I've never really looked into ordering glasses online, but now I'm pretty much hooked because oh my goodness, the prices! I couldn't believe how cheap they were, and I love that the prices make me feel like I could order a few fun pairs without taking out a second mortgage on my house. I always get basic brown or black at the optometrist, but I definitely ordered burgundy glasses with rhinestones. I love them. I love that they are lightweight and crazy cute, plus they came in a matching case with a pink cleaning cloth. I've received so many compliments on them and every time I tell someone the price, they a) can't believe it and b) ask for the URL so they can order a pair.

Aside from the price and selection, there are some things that I really love about Glasses USA (you might be interested in joining their Facebook fan page). You can upload a picture of yourself to virtually "try on" any of their glasses. They're also an eco-friendly and compassionate company. If you return a pair of glasses, they don't restock them. Instead, they donate the glasses to organizations that provide glasses for those who cannot afford them. The willingness to give instead of just making a profit really says a lot about the heart of the company.

I'm already thinking about my next pair of glasses, because I love that I can finally afford to buy a pair of fun, funky glasses that I might not wear every day but can still justify purchasing! If you're interested in buying a pair, too, Glasses USA has offered a 10% discount with the code Blog10. The best part? The code never expires. All you need is your prescription!

I was given glasses to facilitate this review, but I really do love this company.

In The Golden Afternoon

My favorite Disney movie is Alice in Wonderland. You know the part where the flowers sing? I love that part.



I took this picture because I was just waiting for this flower to start singing at me. It didn't, but it made for a very pretty picture (with nice bokeh, which I feel TOTALLY PHONY saying because I don't know jack about photography although I DID take that photo on manual).

Continuing with Alice in Wonderland, don't Shane and Tommy remind you of Alice and her teacher sitting beneath the tree and Luke the Cheshire Cat with only his grin showing?



Oh, and if you're wondering, my favorite character? Totally the Queen of Hearts, followed by that dog with the broom on his face. I wish I had a broom dog. It'd make my life so much easier.

You Capture: Photographer's Choice

Warmth

It's always, in the midst of stress and hard times, that life gives us the lift we need to make it just another day.

Like the lift of a friend delivering homemade soup, bread, berries, and whipped cream (in a can!).
And then as if the lift of soup full of goodies isn't enough, another friend sneaks peanut butter chocolate cupcakes onto your porch (along with a hilarious, sweet note about them being a lesser known cure for the Plague). And how I wish I had a picture of those for you, but if we have to be honest... I ate them all before I realized that I didn't take a picture. But they were GOOD, made even better by the sentiment behind them.

Amazing how food can be such a comfort, how normal food can become amazing when delivered by friends.
This weekend, I'm having a candle party, which is not something that I usually do, but I LOVE these candles. I always spend a decent amount of money on new candles every season, because I feel like it adds so much warmth to a house to smell like the season (and I'm sure you will not be surprised to know that my favorite seasonal smells are all food related!). More importantly, though, I've decided that I need to stop complaining that my house is too small or too far away from everyone and instead, fill it with friends, food, and drinks. Because it doesn't matter how much space you have, what matters is the laughter and delicious smells you fill it with--and speaking of, my husband is so wonderful that he's more than happy to make food for the party. In fact, he was offended because I mentioned the possibility of just getting Pizza Rolls (which are delicious and I love so much). I'm not sure what he's going to make, but I hope it involves a lot of carbs, because truly, my comfort foods are all high in carbs (cupcakes, bread, cheese, and more cupcakes). What are your favorite comfort foods? And your candle smells? Are you the type of person who could breathe nothing but cinnamon roll and be happy, or do you like to mix it up with flowers and clean cotton (neither of which you'll ever see me burning!).

Vitamin D

When I'm being good and remember to take my vitamins, I take Vitamin D because it has so many wonderful, healthy properties. But the best Vitamin D is direct from the source, when you can really feel the sun healing. We've all been so sick lately, so sick that it's started make our minds and spirits sick and sad, too, so that we spent all day snapping at each other and just being generally grumpy.

We left the house, found some serious sunshine, and it was good, the kind of good where you just stop and soak it all in. We found a big open area and just let the boys stretch their legs and run, find big leaves, and play hide n seek.


They've started to hold hands when they walk places. It makes my heart explode in ways that I did not ever think possible.

Then on our way out, we found all of these yellow flowers and yellow is such my happy color. Amongst the yellow flowers, monarchs danced around and over our heads. It was one of those moments where you just breathe deep and count your blessings that you're there in that moment.




I might still be germy and gross, but if I could bottle yesterday's dose of sunshine? I think I'd never be sick again.

You'll Always Remember

Two years ago, I tried to prompt my students into a discussion on where they were on September 11th. A few of them remembered parents crying, but for the most part? They didn't remember. They were five. That's when it hit me that this whole generation of children will grow up not remembering, just knowing, never living without THIS as a part of their collective thoughts.

It was a strange feeling, because I remember so strongly where I was. When the first plane hit, I was in Speech class. I didn't know, but this boy was giving a speech about carpe diem and why you should live each day to its fullest. How appropriate, how strange. I left class and noticed two things: 1) It was a perfectly beautiful day, with a bright blue sky and perfect temperatures, and 2) how campus was so deserted. It was 9:30 on a week day. Normally, there'd be people everywhere, going to and from class. It's not as if IU was a small school, so seeing so very few people out was bizarre. I walked back into my dorm, catching a snippet from the TV in the commons. I thought a plane crashed. You know, still a sad event, but that's all I thought. Just a plane crash. Until I went back upstairs and my suitemate had her TV on, sitting rapt with wet hair and a towel wrapped around her. She'd just gotten out of the shower, but couldn't bring herself to stop watching and get dressed. She was the one who explained to me that it was more than just a plane crash. Where were you?


So strange because the day before? My little hometown was all over CNN, because of a bank hostage situation. Just 24 hours earlier. If it'd happened a day later, NO ONE would've cared, but the day before? It was big news. A day later? It didn't matter. Life was changing.
I drove home that weekend, my breath catching in my throat as I passed the Indianapolis airport, still as a morgue. It was common to see planes flying in and out, but this day, it was like a ghost town. Shane and I got together with friends that Saturday night and we talked about where we were and where we were going to go from here. I remember drinking one too many strawberry daquiris and Shane's coworker putting her arms around my neck and saying that she loved me. I said it back and then, do you remember how for awhile after that, everyone just LOVED and held close? It was really nice, in spite of the great tragedy. I remember September 12th, when it'd sunk in just how many were lost, all of the people in NYC with signs looking for lost loved ones and how those of us who knew where our loved ones were? We just wanted to hold them so tight.

What if just for today we did that again, in honor of all of those who didn't live to see September 12th? I'll start. I love all of you, who email me when I have to go back to work and who hope that the sickness that has gripped our house passes and who tell me that I deserve a break and generally make me feel a little less crazy. Now, you do it. Hug, hold closer, and go out and love like it's September 12th.

Cleanliness Is Happiness

This has been a bang up of a week. And by bang up, I mean, DEAR UNIVERSE, PLEASE STOP BEATING ME OVER THE HEAD WITH A MALLET. NO LOVE, ME.

Wednesday, I tried to man up and go to work, despite waking up at 2AM with my eyes swollen shut thanks to my arch-nemesis, pink eye. Work was a disaster because instead of being understanding that you're sick, 8th graders tell you you're disgusting. Repeatedly. Then to add to the disaster, the boys' sitter called and said that Luke was crying and complaining of an earache. Some major shuffling involved and we ended up at the doctor that afternoon. He walked in the room, looked at me, and said, "Is anyone in this room healthy?" Because his doctor is wonderful, he checked me over, too. We both had pink eye and ear infections (a first for both of us!). Apparently my ear drum was bulging (ew) and he couldn't believe that I wasn't in more pain (because I am a rockstar). We walked out of there with four prescriptions. The doctor is usually more of a "wait and see, try these natural remedies" guy, so I was pretty convinced of our sickness at that point. Well, not to mention the part where I thought I was surely going to die at any moment.

But the completely awesome amazing part of Wednesday? My house cleaner came. And I was having 11th hour thoughts that I was being ridiculous and lazy in not being able to clean my own house, but walking into a clean house on Wednesday? Vanished those thoughts. Of course, not even five minutes after we got home, Tommy dumped his entire snack on the nice clean kitchen floor. I wanted to cry for a moment, but then as the evening wore on and I saw all the little touches, like dusted and Pledged dressers and sparkling mirrors and windows? Oh, hiring someone to clean my house is quite honestly the best thing I've ever done. I feel so much more relaxed, knowing that right now, picking up at the end of the night is all I have to do. I don't have to pick up toys and dishes and then go mop or vacuum. The vacuum tracks on the floor were done by someone else. The squeaky clean bathtub I bathed in last night? I got to enjoy it, but I didn't have to clean it.

Honsetly, I have no idea why I didn't budget for this before, because it is SO SMART. Seriously. I might be sick and miserable, but at least I am sick and miserable IN A CLEAN HOUSE.

Today started off a little suspect. I slept past call off time because Tommy had me up at 3:30. I got ready to leave in ten minutes... and then backed into Shane's car in the driveway. Something tells me it's going to be one of those days where I run out of the building in the afternoon, shouting TGIF!

Signs

I'm not a fan of fall. Well, I am IN THEORY, but in actuality, I hate that it's a sign that winter is coming soon. But in the few moments I spent outside this weekend, I noticed the signs of fall all around us.
Of course, the Midwest girl in me always knows that when the cornstalks start to bend and brown, fall is coming.

The flowers follow and dance long shadows that you don't see in the summer.

And naturally, the biggest sign is when you start to crunch on fallen brown leaves.

But if I had to pick a favorite sign of fall, which I'm not really doing because remember? I hate fall. But still, if I HAD TO, it'd be when the sky does this. The sky doesn't do this in any other season.

And then I noticed the creepy face that looks like a Dark Mark in the middle of the clouds (can you see it? because I can, and I really don't know what I did to anger Lord Voldemort, except that he probably knows that I find Snape to be deliciously sexy in a dirty way) and I'm certain that that canNOT be a good sign.

Lost and Found

The first time I rode in the back of a police car, I was soaking wet and pantsless. I was also five.

Yes, my life of crime began at a very young age. We were visiting my cousin, only a year older than me, and somehow we wandered off. I don't remember how or how far we went, but we ended up at the Iroquois River. I was wearing a pink striped shirt with buttons. I remember this because I couldn't get all of the buttons undone and when I tried to take it off, it got stuck on my head. So I had to settle for swimming in my underpants and shirt, instead of just my underpants like my much-more clothing adept cousin. I remember that we had goldfish crackers and I was throwing them in the river and giggling while we splashed around. It's strange how I can't really remember what I wore last month, but I can so vividly remember that pink striped shirt with the white collar and the muddy brown of the water juxtaposed with the orange of the crackers.

What I remember, too, is having no concept of time when we were gone and never thinking for a single moment that we might be worrying our mothers. We were, by the way. They were fairly panicked, calling for us, and eventually calling a neighbor who was a state police trooper. I remember when he picked us up, he put a tarp on the backseat because we were so wet. I remember my legs sticking to the tarp and I remember my cousin telling me that it was okay if we got a time out, because we could just take toys in time out. I don't remember getting in trouble, really, but I do remember coming home to two very relieved moms. On the drive home, I remember my mom asking if we heard us calling and I answered honestly, that no, we didn't. At the time, I didn't understand her worry, because hey, we were just having fun, but now? Every time I read a story about children drowning or children wandering away, oh, I get it.

And so, with this precious childhood memory in mind, should I ever win the lottery, the very first thing I will do is send my mom and Aunt Mary on some very expensive, relaxing trip to a tropical locale to apologize for the time I was brought home in a police car. Pantsless.

Sniffle

I hope everyone had a long, restful weekend. Ours was not so much. Tommy and I are both pretty sick. Truthfully, I should probably be at the doctor today based on the sheer size of my glands, but as long as we're being truthful, I hate the doctor and how even though I have good health insurance, it still costs eleven billion dollars for someone to tell me I have swollen glands. We are both very sniffly and sneezy and stuffed up right now. Every time Tommy nurses (which he wants to do ALL THE TIME), he has to stop every thirty seconds to take in a breath through his mouth. It's sad, but also kind of cute.

The way I have to grab a kleenex immediately when I sneeze because EW? NOT CUTE.
Normally when someone is sick, you try and stay away from them, but it's hard when that someone is one. Naturally, within 48 hours of Tommy getting sick, my throat started to hurt. Last night, I was all of a sudden shivering and knew I had a fever, but didn't want to take my temp. I did and it was 101, but I woke up soaked in sweat this morning, thankful that my fever broke. At least one part of me is getting better! Luke had a little runny nose but seems fine now. I hope he stays that way.

We pretty much had to give up on all of our weekend plans. Thankfully, my parents took Luke to a parade and kept him at their house yesterday, because it's really hard to balance cuddling with a sick baby with playing with a toddler (I know that Tommy is technically a toddler now, but technicality is dumb and he's still a baby) and we felt guilty that he was just expected to sit inside with us. He came home from the parade with an obscene amount of candy, which meant that at 2:30 this morning when I was up typing up lesson plans, I was eating Sweet Tarts. Probably not the best idea for a sore throat, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. Then to balance out the acidity of the Sweet Tarts, I ate three Tootsie Rolls. I know I should be eating fruit and we have lots in the house, but I just want comfort foods. I also really want a pumpkin spice latte, but the nearest Starbucks is 25 minutes away and as much as Shane loves me, I don't think he's going to make the drive.
Anyway, Luke went to the sitter today so he could play with his friends and Shane stayed home to take care of Tommy and me. Isn't that sweet? It's really hard to take off when you're a teacher, because you can't just miss, you have to prepare someone else to do your job for the day. Sometimes I dream of a job where I could just call in sick and roll over and go back to sleep, instead of emailing lesson plans to my teammates and making sure that they know where my seating charts are.

Today it's really pretty outside, but also very windy (Beth would be proud to know that I used my weather channel app to discover that there's a wind advisory this afternoon). I've been taking it easy today because I really hope to go to work tomorrow and not the doctor. I've just been lying on the couch and watching Lois & Clark, which was my favorite show back in middle school and is now on Netflix Instant. I loved that show so much, but I am now questioning my 8th grade crush on Dean Cain because he's not nearly as cute as I remember. Of course, compared to 8th grade boys, I'm sure he had much to offer. Anyway, the show's a little cheesier than I remember, but still fun and easy to watch while you're sick because you don't have to pay much attention.

It wasn't the weekend I wanted, for sure. I'm still a little sad that our three day weekend didn't pan out the way we'd planned, but I'm hoping that this is it for sickness in our house for awhile because as nice and comfy as a weekend on the couch can be every once in awhile, I'd much rather be out living. I hope your weekend was full of lots of living, whether on or off the couch.

Labors

The word labor has so many meanings. The work I do five days a week (and say what you will about the teacher's union, I'm proud of to be a member).

The 22 hours I spent in labor to finally, blissfully hold a 9 pound baby boy. The hardly even counts as a labor except at the very end when it really, really hurt.

The labors of love we go through every day, caring for sick kids until we end up sick ourselves. But the kids still need to be rocked and loved, so your own sickness goes by the wayside. I don't ever remember my mom being sick as a kid and I think of that every time I get sick. Yet, I wonder if it's not that she didn't get sick, just that she pushed it aside enough to keep going.

This weekend was not the three day weekend that I'd looked forward to since the start of school. Instead, Tommy has been miserably sick and today, I woke up feeling awful. Still, he doesn't feel that well, so as much as I'd like to curl up and nap... I'll be spending my day rocking and cuddling a sick little boy. So maybe I can't breathe and swallowing is excruciating, but the rocking and the cuddling and pushing aside my own sickness? That's one labor I don't mind one bit.

Morning Glory

I have a love/hate relationship with mornings. I hate them, because ten months out of the year, I have to get up and get dressed and go to work in the morning. And that's just dumb. But really, mornings are pretty glorious. The world looks a little different, a little nicer, a little fresher in the morning.
Sights that might simply be pretty on an ordinary day are made beautiful by the rising sun (except for the part where I may as well drive with my eyes closed because the sun is blinding).

Sometimes in the morning, when the clouds are backlit pink by the sun I think that the clouds look like cotton candy. And then I wonder where I can buy cotton candy at 6AM, because my relationship with cotton candy is strictly a love/love one.



But the best thing about mornings are the little boys who slow down just long enough to be all warm and snuggly for a few minutes, before they run off and start getting into all sorts of trouble.

Proof that his serious look in that photo was him contemplating what sort of trouble he'd like to cause? Two seconds after I snapped that, he did this. Someone hold me. I have a climber.