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worst case scenario need not apply
I’ve thought about how I’d write up the big post on how Luca did at his tooth extraction. Let’s just sum it up, shall we?
Luca’s a freaking champ.
He did everything perfectly. He didn’t eat or drink past midnight. He didn’t complain when I said he wouldn’t get breakfast until after his tooth pull. He didn’t get nervous. He drank the versed without hesitation and he did everything the doctor said to do.
Now let me say what I think about the dentist who did it.
He was amazing. I don’t understand how someone can be so patient with a kid high on versed and nitrous oxide. Seriously. When we brought Luca back to the treatment room, he was noodle legs and full of giggles. When he went to put the nitrous on his face, Luca was smiling so big and uncontrollably giggling. And then he kept trying to grab at the mask.
I had been standing in the doorway at the time, but Matt looked at me, who was sitting on half of the only chair in the room and said, “Why don’t you sit?”
Apparently I looked nervous.
I stayed calm for Luca and Matt of course was fine. I was mostly glad they let us both go back into the room. I know I would have been fine and calm, but my issue is that I feel that I need to help, forgetting that the dental hygienist and the dentist know what they’re doing and if I didn’t go back to the treatment room, they’d STILL do their job. That Luca would be fine. So when Matt asked me to sit down, he was basically saying, “Woman, sit on your damn hands.”
So how did the day go?
We were out the door by 7 AM and at the hospital by 7:20. We got Luca checked in and he had about 10 minutes of wait time that he spent wisely playing on the provided iPads.
When it was his turn to go back, we were immediately greeted by a super nice dental hygienist who walked us back to a nice dim room where Luca got to pick out any chair he wanted to sit in. He, of course, chose the orange recliner and then got to watch his very own TV.
I mean, they think of everything there. Everything. They have aquariums and iPads and games and interactive trains all in the waiting area. They use a pager system so you know when it’s alright to go back to your respective office area so that the rooms aren’t inundated with people waiting. They have personal TVs! Personal. TVs. I mean, wow. Even though the kid in the recliner next to Luca had Sponge Bob up loud enough for the entire hospital, whatever. Luca, at that point, was in happy land.
Now what does versed do to a four year old, you ask?
It’s awesome.
Within about 10 minutes he looked stoned. He was playing with Claire’s Innotab that she lent him and he went from finding treasure to having no idea what end was north or south and then it slowly slipped from his hands.
Fifteen minutes was the magic number and the doctor walked us back to the treatment room.
When I first picked him up he had a case of the Audreys. Read: bobble head. I had to remind him to keep his head on my shoulder over and over when his head would fall all the way back and he’d snap it back up.
So just imagine a drunk four year old. That’s about right.
Everything was funny. When I sat him down on the dentist chair, he started giggling. And then he quickly slumped to the side and laughed at the arm rest. And then the dental hygienist got close to his face and smiled and he smiled so wide and then giggled. Then his head fell over.
When Dr. Lustman came in and sat on his right, he was looking to his left. Dr. Lustman said, “Luca, can you look over here?” Then he, in super slow motion, moved his head, looked at the doctor and started giggling.
So then he sniffed vanilla ice cream (nitrous oxide) and got multiple shots of Novocaine which he didn’t even feel and then when I thought he was just looking at his mouth one last time, his tooth was out.
Best. Dentist. Ever.
When I first made the appointment, I said, “I want Luca to remember nothing. You hear me? Nothing. I want the best mind erasers you have in this joint.”
Dude doesn’t remember anything. Not a thing.
He got to pick out a pencil and a sticker that he proudly wore for two days and Matt carried him out of there.
He did cry a little, because versed makes one emotional. Elevators are a very emotional experience, people.
I stifled as many laughs as I could. I really did.
When we got home, he was hungry, so we fed him oatmeal, eggs and yogurt. He watched old episodes of Superman from the 1940’s and he took a 4 1/2 hour long nap. When he woke up, I had a tent waiting for him made with three full sized blankets.
Because that’s what moms do.
(Watching Mulan while in the tent. Claire takes it seriously.)
Last night he was petrified at the thought of the tooth fairy. So we let his bedroom door stay cracked open and this morning when he woke up and found a ten dollar bill in his tooth fairy pouch, he was over the fear. (Ten bucks is the least we could give him after the trauma of losing a tooth that way. Claire was only minorly jealous.)
This morning, exactly 24 hours from his procedure, he decided he wanted to do taekwondo again. Apparently his fear was in his tooth, because he said he wanted to take class, took class and did great at class. And wants to go again next week.
Whatever, I say. Go on with your bad self, dude.
So along with having a nice big gap in his mouth, he has the cutest lisp ever now.
Before.
After.
I don’t even know what more to say. I’m so seriously impressed with him and how brave he was. I am the definition of a proud mom. So proud.
Little dude isn’t so little anymore
Dear Luca,
On the day you were born it was hot, much like today. It was sunny, too. You were scheduled for an induction because I was tired being pregnant, so I figured washing your Auntie’s car would be the smartest thing to do to speed along the process.
Apparently you don’t like being told what to do, and you were born just before 10 that night while hockey playoffs were on the tv in the background. One minute I was commenting how Detroit scored, next minute you were here.
No, seriously. That’s how fast you were born.
You had a pretty busy year, Luca. You almost got swept away by a rogue wave at the beach. You had to share your once peaceful bedroom with Mae-Mae the destroyer. You discovered Legos. You put up with me for a year.
From the stories I’ve heard about your dad when he was little, you’re proving to be just like him. I take that as both good and bad. Good in that, well, I loved him enough to marry him. He’s a really good guy, your dad. But with that comes the childhood daddy that packed a bag in preparation to run away and would choose to be alone over hanging out with his family.
That’s you. I’m 90% positive that at some point you’re going to look around at your surroundings (read: your sisters) and just say, “Peace out, homies,” and walk down the street with a stick and sheet tied to it.
Not that I’d blame you, kid, but I’d kind of miss you. So please don’t be doing that. You can run away to the basement. That’s cool with me.
I love that you’re a self-entertainer. Right now, as I type up your birthday blog, you’re playing with Legos and are enjoying every second. Your imagination is one of your best assets. You’re smart. I don’t mean that in a, you can read all kinds of things and math is your favorite! No. I mean it in a you get it. You get what the big picture is, for a four year old. You have all kinds of common sense and it’s kind of incredible. You are a naturally born smooth boy, Luca. You know what you’re good at and you use it to your best ability. You know that you’re small and maybe not as fast as Claire, but you know the shortcut to catch up with her.
You absolutely adore Audrey.
The Kindness of Strangers
What a nightmare Children’s Hospital dental services are to get ahold of. Seriously.
After freaking out over what he needs to get done and the uncertainty of it all, I tried to get an appointment for him at the Children’s Hospital clinic.
Yah, right.
I got a recording. You leave a message and they say they’ll get back to you within 72 hours. I did as I was told and waited.
Today I called the dentist that was recommended to me by Dr. Griffin. The receptionist was fantastic. So kind. She confirmed to me what I had already figured – Luca was too young, and too small to be anesthetized at an office location and would have to have it done at the hospital.
“But,” I said, “I can’t get ahold of a human being.” Then I nearly started to cry.
Kathy, the receptionist, then told me that’s the way they usually are. She told me to call them again, leave a message, again, and say he’s only 3, and in pain. She said she’d call and do the same for me.
This, for the record, is a woman I’ve never met – and Luca isn’t even their patient.
So I called, and left a message saying, “Hello. I’m calling again because my son, Luca, is only 3 and has an abscess above his top tooth, it’s loose and his dentist said he has to have it surgically removed. Please. Please call me back,” again near tears.
About 30 minutes later, Kathy called me back and said she hadn’t heard anything, but she did leave a message about it. She then said she talked to the dentist she works for and he recommended we go to the ER tomorrow if we don’t hear from them today, because then they’d be forced to put us on the schedule. Then she asked that I call her back regardless to let her know what the turnout was and was so gentle and kind in her words.
A few hours later (when there’s a usual 72 hour wait) Children’s hospital called me to schedule an appointment.
Luca gets seen on Monday at 8 AM.
I called Kathy back and thanked her profusely. She told me she didn’t do much, but I told her she did everything. She kept me calm, offered to help a stranger – someone whose son isn’t even a patient – and clearly pushed them to call me back sooner.
It was everything.
On this terrible week that I’ve had, it was everything.
Tuesday can suck it
Yesterday was bad. Like, really bad. Monday was bad, too. But having a crappy Monday then a crappy start to a Tuesday just ensures the fact that Tuesday was going to be a bad day.
Why was Tuesday bad? Here’s the highlights:
1. I’ve discovered that almost four year old tantrums are way worse than two year old tantrums. Why? Because you can reason with a four year old. They understand consequences to their actions. But do they care? No. They don’t give a shit. They’re mad and they don’t care who knows it.
So how did the tantrum go down?
Claire had only two more miles to run in order to be at the 25 she needed in order to race Saturday – her final 1.2 miles to become a kid marathoner. A pretty big deal.
Yesterday was gorgeous. Sunny and in the upper 60’s. Perfect. I only own a double jogger, and I have more kids that I care to handle sometimes, but Luca wanted to bike alongside. That’s cool, because I was prepared to stick Audrey in the Moby wrap and have Mae and Luca in the stroller. No biggie.
Way biggie.
Luca, as determined as he can be, can’t keep up with his sister, even on a bike, which irritates him. Then his little legs can’t push him up the hills and he starts to yell. Loudly.
Now I live in the kind of neighborhood that, on a good day, you hear the birds chirping, the neighbor mowing their lawn and an occasional dog barking. That’s it. So let’s just say this serves as a public apology to my neighbors for what followed.
He yelled. And cried. Then fake cried. Then cried some more. And when Claire, so proudly came running past me after finishing her last cul de sac, and was on the home stretch, I was so proud, but wanted to strangle Luca.
Mind you, this was day two in a row of him freaking out, for no real good reason.
2. Audrey. Yesterday was a bad day for Audrey. She’s entering that annoying phase where she wants to see all the things that are going on while awake, but honestly hates being awake. She’s spent the first two months of her life asleep off and on, and frankly, everyone liked her better that way. But awake she has become and if I’m not holding her up to see all the goings on, then blast you mother! I WILL YELL.
She’s not discriminatory towards who she will yell at, too. Because she didn’t spare the daycare ladies Monday night. She was kind to them on Tuesday, though, because when I went to pick her up after teaching, they said to me, “What’d you drug her with?”
3. The dentist.
Matt took Claire and Luca (and himself) to the dentist for their six month appointment. When I got home, Claire proudly said, “I have a cavity!”
Joy.
And then Matt said that they’re only using Novocaine on her. Yah. Ha ha. HA HA HA. Good luck with that Dr. Griffin. I know for a fact that just a few months ago I had to body block her to get her a flu shot. Not a high point in my life.
Further more, I don’t want her having a lifelong fear of the dentist. Because really, who enjoys the dentist? I don’t mind it, but I’m happier when they say I’m fine and can leave without any drama.
But then Matt says to me, “Luca’s news is worse.”
See, last week or the week before – I can’t remember – Luca was accidently pushed into the bookshelf, and there was blood. Again, the gums above his teeth were bleeding pretty bad and already turning purple.
About a year ago, Luca had fallen at the gym and that was when he had to see Dr. Griffin in the first place, because he was complaining of pain. Dr. Griffin said that his tooth would probably turn black because his nerves were involved and not to be alarmed, but he’ll be fine. His jaw was only minorly bruised and not fractured.
But see, in Luca’s world, it’s two strikes and you’re out, and now his nerve is severed and his tooth is loose and, insult to injury, has developed an abscess in the gums.
What does mean?
It means surgery. It means sedation. It means probable intubation.
Yesterday, I freaked out. However, Cassie’s version of freaking out is probably what a stoner looks like before he tokes up. I was still calm, I didn’t let Luca see it and texted back and forth with Jessica.
Then I drank wine.
It was good.
4. Both my CPR and Nursing Licenses expire soon. Annoying.
Today is a bit better. The scale was kind to me, and I’m now only 8 pounds away from pre-Audrey weight. The sun is shining and only three of the four kids have freaked out on me. Could totally be worse.
That said, this week can be done now. Because I am having one hell of a time trying to get anyone who is a pediatric oral surgeon to call me back. Luca freaked out on me again, and so I have very little sympathy for him in this very moment and Audrey is being awfully needy for a fourth kid.
BUT, in good news, Claire ran her final mile today, which brings her to 25 miles run since March and on Saturday, when she runs her final 1.2 miles, she’ll be a marathoner.
Plus, the last two days of her running she’s said she’s had so much fun. So maybe she’s found something she could really enjoy.
I just want some quiet. So when 1 o’clock rolls around, EVERYONE’S TAKING A NAP and I’m going to sit on my couch and stare and enjoy some silence. Because damnit, I deserve it.
we don’t give in to terrorists
Luca. Oh Luca. He is so stubborn. So beyond tolerable stubbornness and into the realm of, I have no idea how to counter your stubbornness, little man. Not a clue.
But 90% of the time he is the sweetest, kindest little boy I have ever met. And I’m not saying that because he’s my kid. He just is.
Anyhow, there are times when I get so frustrated by him and I sit and wish that he would grow up a little more so that I can actually reason with him, as I do with Claire, but then I stop myself.
Because he will be my only little boy and he will only be this little defiant two year old for a short time. Because soon, he won’t need me quite like he needs me now. And because in a little while, he’ll think me embarrassing asking for a hug.
One thing I’ve noticed all my life watching other people is that there are kids that are genuinely good, and have bad days or kids that are typically hellions. And it’s typically the ones that are hellions that get excused for by other adults.
Hear me now. I’m not excusing Luca. Yes. He flips out when I tell him it’s nap time. Yes. He pitches a fit if he doesn’t get his way. And yes, he refuses to eat dinner 75% of the time.
But – when he flips out over nap time, I am stern and he still naps. When he doesn’t get his way, I don’t give in just to get him to stop. (As we frequently say in our house, “We don’t give in to terrorists.”) And when he refuses to eat dinner, there’s no way in hell he gets a treat (the only time during the day when we offer it,) and if he decides he’s hungry later on, he either gets dinner reheated or fruit or carrot sticks.
I don’t keep many secrets, and I’m very open about a lot of things. And I’ll be honest when I talk about my kids. The good, the bad, the in between. I’m not here to toot my own horn and say I’m the best mother there has ever been – because I’m not. I know how I could improve. But I also do know that I’m a damn good mother and my kids are living proof. They are kind, considerate and say please and thank you. They aren’t rude, they don’t back talk and they have respect for Matt and I. Bottom line.
Someone said to me, “Oh just you wait, you think he’s bad now?” And I wanted to scream. Who is anyone to say that because my kid is being a stubborn two year old that he’ll be some sexually active 12 year old smoking pot? I see that as highly unlikely. And really rude. And he’s not bad! HE’S 2!
When I decided that I wanted to be a mother I made myself a set of rules:
1. Don’t coddle.
2. You see that mom being a helocopter parent? Yah, don’t do that. It’s annoying.
3. Being respectful works both ways.
4. Remember the poem by Shel Silverstein.
5. Kids just want to be heard. Not just listened to.
6. Allow free thinking and small amounts of freedom.
7. Build trust by being honest. No one likes a liar.
8. Don’t be their friend.
9. Know that each kid is different and needs to be treated as such.
10. Just be there for them.
11. Remember what it was like to be a kid.
12. Love them for who they are.
And I try like hell, every day, to stick to those rules. Those are the only rules I follow.
So yes. I have a defiant 2 year old. And who out there, who has children, didn’t have a defiant 2 year old? I take it one day at a time, I stay firm and I try to talk it out. That’s all I can do.
Because that 10% of the time that he’s being a little turd I can deal with if it means I get to have my sweet boy the other 90%.
Can I get a “what, what” for not getting pooped on?
Last week I took the kids to the Aviary. It’s good for about an hour of fun, which could be more, but a certain four year old has the attention span of a gnat when it comes to the place. Luca sat on a bench looking at all the birds, and I’m pretty certain that he would have sat there all day because A.) it was super warm and humid in there and B.) he’s surprisingly patient for a two year old.
One of the many things I love about the Aviary is that it’s pretty hands on and self guided. Given that you don’t get your hand bit off.
The only thing Claire cares about there are the penguins. She, of course, dressed herself. And she handles the map.
Claire made sure to tell me that there was “cash inside the penguin’s head.” She then proceeded to jam her finger inside to make sure that no one stole the money for the penguins. I think she was partly disappointed when I told her that the money wasn’t actually for Crosby, rather it was for the animals.
For the record, it didn’t laugh at me.
The tropical room is just that. Hot and humid. As soon as I tried to take a photo, my lens would fog up. Claire thought the birds were neat and all, but the pink caution sign was pretty damn spectacular.
Luca was amazed at how smooth the ‘rocks’ were. Even more so, that the birds completely ignored him.
Mae was pretty upset with her teeth that day and the birds served as a pretty good distraction. So much so that she spent the majority of the time growling.
Then some of the birds started calling back, which intrigued her.
Claire was very bossy that day. She insisted on going back to the penguins three separate times. Then she was adamant that I take a picture of Sidney the penguin. (For those who aren’t in the loop, that’s Crosby’s first name.) In fact, Claire made me take 3 different photos of her. (I think they’re all girls. But don’t quote me.)
Then Luca decided to dance in front of the penguins.
In this room, the birds were divebombing. This, of course, freaked the ever loving poop out of Claire. So, she decided to be brave and put her taekwondo to the test and ducked when a bird would swoop. She also threw in a few punches and a kick for good measure.
(Is it wrong that I laughed?)
There was a very large bird cleaning itself. To hell if I know what kind it was. No one was offering the information and I had three kids to keep an eye on instead of reading the signs. Anyhow, Mae was obsessed. She grabbed on to the railing with an iron grip and proceeded to growl. She was straight up white knuckled. And then she growled some more.
The kids read the sign for me instead.
Then we ended our trip at the penguins yet again because Luca learned he could crawl underneath and taunt them.
Claire thought the bathroom was awesome, so I took a picture of us in it. At this point, I was tired from holding Mae in that carrier and my diaper bag that weighs about 50 pounds. (Well, techinically it’s not a diaper bag, it’s a messenger bag from H&M, but I’ve been using it since Luca was a tiny baby and it works for me. And Matt. Because really, two separate bags are just a pain in the butt. Been there done that.)
So. Good trip had by all.
And as opposed to last visit, Claire didn’t get chased by a over sized pigeon.
getting lost in a corn field
Avast ye mateys! Today was the kids’ first visit to a corn maze. Complete with a hay ride. And an obstacle course! Oh – and it was pirate themed…ARG!
Which, isn’t that convenient? Luca was planning on being a pirate for Halloween! He wasn’t that excited to be a pirate after I ordered the costume, stating that he instead wanted to be a motorcycle. Not sure what to do with that information, but this corn maze instilled his want to be a pirate. So yay for that.
So, of course, Claire insisted on wearing her costume, even though it has nothing to do with pirates. She insisted that she was the police officer of the pirates.
I’ll give her that one for creativity.
Maelie dressed as herself – which I describe as adorable.
Luca paraded around the corn maze in uniform complete with a parascope. (Well, it’s technically a telescope, but that’s neither here nor there. Point is – it’s Claire’s and she willingly shared.) He stayed in character the majority of the time, stopping every so often to check his parascope for treasure.
Holy crap do I have a good looking crew there. Kids? Adorable. Husband? Hottie-hot-hot. Me? Lucky.
It’s par for course that they’d be uncooperative for me. So I just squeeze the stuffing out of them to elicit smiles.
Mae was feeling existential.
Luca is all boy and part MacGyver. He sees mud and he has a pencil, so he makes a hole.
Pretty sure we got lost five times.
But the sun was shining and it was a beautiful day.
Of course, while on the hay ride, we saw all the cows in the pasture. As the kids waved and shouted, “Moo,” I said under my breath, “Hello cows. You’re all going to die very soon!” Which made Matt laugh and the kids ask an annoying amount of questions. (The corn maze is hosted at a meat farm.)
And since we were riding through 4 inches of mud, it was bumpy and Luca insisted on holding my hand.
And I loved every moment of it.
an update in photos
Despite what the scale may say, I swear she’s chubbing up. Here, Maelie is attempting to steal the camera from me.
This was yesterday.
This is today. See what I did there?
Sure, sure. I brushed her hair and stuff. But seriously. Notice the new shirt? Yup. Claire got a new Crosby shirt.
So did Luca, but he won’t sit still long enough to get a photo of him. Two year olds.
So back to Mae. She pretty much smiles all day. I’m not exaggerating.
And she’s teething, so she spits a lot.
Plus, since she’s my kid, she’s got the huge eyes and long lashes.
And since she only rolls, all her toys stay right next to her, so the house stays kind of neat. You know. The kind of neat with two kids able to destroy it as opposed to three.
I know, Mae. I’m so hilarious.
never underestimate the kindness of strangers
“Whoever you are, I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.” -Blanche DuBois A Streetcar Named Desire
Today is the big moving day for Carly. She had asked a few weeks back if Matt was able to help, and of course, Claire had to tag along. I didn’t have anything big planned for the day, just grocery shopping, so I was glad that it was only two kids instead of three. Even though Claire is the best behaved of the bunch.
After Luca and I unpacked the groceries, we sat on the couch to have a snack. I was bored. And it was cloudy. And nothing sounded like fun. But I thought to myself, how often do I ever get just Mae and Luca together? I should do something that only the three of us can do.
So I got out ye olde jogging stroller that I have lovingly named The Beast, packed it in the back of the Jeep, gathered the troops and headed out to my favorite jogging trail – The Pittsburgh Three Rivers Heritage Trail.
I won’t lie, I was pretty excited. The last time I used my jogging stroller for actual jogging, I had Claire and Luca in the seats and Mae in my belly. This time I only had to push 55 pounds. 20 pounds for The Beast and the rest for the kids. That’s great in comparison to the 65 pounds of pushing and the extra 15 pounds of baby and baby related weight gain.
We found a spot by the 31st street bridge and took off running. Luca had insisted on bringing his blanket, so I felt it was only right to bring Mae’s too.
The trail was packed, mostly with bikers, however, there were a lot of Pirates fans walking up to the game. We had to do a lot of people dodging once we got near PNC park, but we got a lot of smiles. People can’t help but smile at the kids, especially with Luca pulling his Linus act with his blanket up to his ear and his thumb in his mouth. I had to have said “Good Morning,” at least a dozen times. Luca even started saying it, too.
When we got to Heinz field, we turned around.
By the time we got back to the car, I realized that Luca’s blanket wasn’t on his lap. I asked him where it was and he said, “Bye, bye banket!”
Crap.
I asked a biker as he passed by if he saw a blanket on the trail. He said no.
I drove up the road half mile, asked another person, she said no.
I pulled along side the trail another half mile up and asked a gaggle of bikers and the one who answered was very rude, but she said, “Um, yaaaah. It was up the trail a bit.”
Score.
There were two other people walking along side that said they’d pick it up if they saw it. I thanked them and drove up the trail a little further where I could park.
Frantically, I got Luca out and lugged the infant carrier up the trail, all the while asking people if they had seen a green blanket. Someone finally said, “You mean that one?”
I turned around and there it was, held up by those two people I had seen before. They were in their Pirates tees and were very tall – a cute couple. The man handed the blanket to Luca and he cheered, “Baaaanket! Tank-you!” While he was doing that I was profusely thanking them. They said they understood, their niece was similar to that, stating that they called her Linus. I had to laugh out loud because, of course, that’s what we call Luca.
The fact that those two people went out of their way to help me find Luca’s blanket when they could have just carried on and went to the ball game proves to me that there is more good in the world than bad. All while I was trekking up and down the trail with Luca in one hand, Maelie in her carrier in the other, people were asking me if I needed help. And no one laughed because I was looking for a simple blanket. Sure, the look on my face made it look like I had lost a kid, not to mention my face was all flushed from just having run 5 miles, but they all looked at me sympathetically. They understood.
That’s Pittsburgh for you.
So to the couple that found Luca’s blanket, I thank you ever so much. Because good blankets are hard to come by.
And Let’s Go Bucs.
my idea of fun
It seems I have a slight obsession with photo taking. Especially when the subject matter is Maelie. Claire and Luca are simply too busy to sit still for a photo. Looking back, I didn’t get very many fun pictures of those two when they were babies. Oh well. Too late now. I’ll wait until their “I hate the camera” phase is over and then get them. For now, the backs of their heads and blurred faces will suffice.
Yesterday, all the big kids were napping and Miss Mae was awake. I actually had some make up on, so I figured it was a good time to take shameless self portraits. It’s what all the cool kids do, you know.
I’ve been doing them forever, mainly with Claire, because, well, she’d sit still long enough for me to get a shot or two:
Heck, I’ve even got one of Luca! That’s pretty hard to do, for the record.
So, in a nutshell, it’s a favorite pass time to take an obnoxious amounts of photos of my kids. Of course, to me, they are the most beautiful creatures I’ve ever seen. Gosh I love them. And what amazes me further is that they’re half me. Pretty sure they got all the good genes.
While I’m not one to go around flashing photos to any passerby I see, I will, however, flash them to you on here. The only reason why I feel it’s OK to do this and not be considered annoying is because y’all chose to come to this blog. Yah. Justification. I’ll go with that.
I don’t put myself in the photos with the kids often, but sometimes, I just feel it’s necessary to remember everything about a moment. For example, yesterday during my little photo op with Maelie, I was feeling happy. I’d like to remember that 98% of the time I’m feeling happy. Not overwhelmed, anxious, upset, frustrated or angry – but happy.
I’m not a photographer, nor will I ever be, but sometimes I get lucky. Yesterday I had a couple fun shots. And they make me smile because in that moment I felt good. And it’s such a wonderful feeling.
I even got one with my favorite little dude.
Now that I’ve successfully nauseated each and every one of you with photos of my children, I’ll add as a side, Luca is now 95% potty trained. (Meaning, we only wet our pants when sleeping.) Mama Cass’s Potty Training Boot Camp has successfully turned my pants crappin’ little man into a Diego undie wearing, potty pooping, victory dancing dude. Ladies, he’s single and has been poop pants free since May.
“Call me!”
Sisters From Different Misters 