The Joy of Siblings

  • Their names

    Ok. This is a biggie. Not in the way that some other posts are biggies,

    but in a different (and maybe even biggie-er) way.

    I have been writing this blog for over seven and a half years.

    On it I have shared my innermost thoughts and feelings; my deep secrets; my real-time triumphs and trials.

    I have even shared my birth stories, in full detail, in multi-part installments.

    I opened up about my postpartum depression as it was happening, when I was in the thick of it.

    But, in all of the talk about my children, there is one thing that I have never shared:

    Their names.

    This has been a rule for me since this blog’s inception.

    It is funny, because I love talking baby names as much as (more than) the next person, but, for me, it never felt right.

    When our story was featured in The New York Times in March of 2016 I explained this a bit further

    (and, in retrospect, perhaps a bit more naively).

    I wrote:

    I am very careful about the exposure of my kids on the internet, because I never want my decision to write openly to have a negative impact on them in any way.

    (By the way, the way I justify this as follows:

    I used to only post photos of my children from behind or with their faces obscured, but that has changed, and now their pictures are out there on the internet. I don’t include them in most articles, and try my best to post cute things like their feet or accessories, but sometimes their faces are visible and I know that.

    I have never shared their names on this site and never will. Even in The New York Times article I had the writers refer to my son by the name we call him, but it is not his full legal name.

    And

    I am confident and optimistic that I will raise children who will be proud that their story, our story, was able to help thousands of people across this world. I hope that I do.

    “…and never will” I said, with such conviction. Just as this blog has evolved, so have I. So have they. 

    And in writing the book I made the careful and deliberate decision to reveal their names, both given and the names by which we call them. The book seemed so big, and to continue to refer to them by “my daughter” and “my son” seemed off; shortsighted; not right. They have names and I was writing my most true, raw, open story in a hardcover book and opacity no longer seemed appropriate.

    So, I wrote the book and used their names and told the stories of how their names came to be and it all seemed so far away…

    …and now it is not. The book comes out in less than two weeks (eeeeeee!) and it has been getting some exciting, humbling reviews (eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!)

    In one such review, a “Starred Review” by Booklist, the reviewer talks about my family members by name.

    Screen Shot 2017-12-26 at 10.03.31 PM
    Before I wrote this post there were two people with whom I had to consult:

    my daughter and my son.

    I asked them how they felt about me sharing their names on this blog which, presumably, could have a broader reach than the book (though I hope that is not the case!), to be memorialized on the interwebs for all of time. They are seven and a half and four.

    I explained their privacy to them, and their rights. I explained to them that when people do a Google search for their names I want articles to come up that have nothing to do with me. I explained that I fully expect them to do incredible things with their lives and therefore these blog posts should be buried so far down that this won’t really matter, someday. They both took the time to think about it and then both told me to go ahead and share.

    But, I think that they did a really good job doing so themselves. So, I present to you,

    The Big Reveal: Their Names

    by,

    Annabelle Lily and Alexander Beau

    (Belle et Beau)

    My super star(r)s.

  • déjà vu

    (Editor’s Note: This post was originally composed on Monday, December 19. Writing had to be postponed* which accounts for any confusion as I refer to “today” as “Monday” when it is, now, Tuesday. Many thanks!)

    Today, I had a massive case of déjà vu, and not necessarily for the best reasons.

    I am really fascinated by the concept of déjà vu and I have written about this phenomenon many times before; over 7 years ago, in fact, I shared a cute, little love story about two new parents in their twenties, in case you want to reminisce with me. There is something about the vague recollection or feeling of familiarity that I put in the same category of “nostalgia” for example, as they represent these concepts that are so meaningful and also ephemeral, as they simultaneously feel so big to me and yet they slip through my fingers before I can hold onto them tightly enough to (savor or) save.

    Along with my déjà vu I also had some premonitions and coincidences that were big enough to make me stop and take notice.

    Let me explain.

    This morning was a very typical, hectic Monday. I shared this over on Instagram, but last week a virus decided to walk through my front door, take off its shoes and hang out for far too long, totally overstaying its welcome like that guy. You know that guy?

    My daughter was home sick on Monday. Tuesday my son started to come down with the sniffles and a cough and so he was out for the week. Friday, my daughter was home, again. This meant that I was also home all week, hanging out with no one besides my two sick kids and the doctors at Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital.

    (By the way, when you re-watch Grey’s Anatomy for the third time, starting halfway through season 6, you will discover a few things:

    1. It is just as good the third time around, if not better.

    2. I am now halfway through Season 10 and, in the span of just these 4 seasons I have experienced the gunman episode (best ever), a plane crash, many car crashes, a superstorm, families growing, families falling apart, relapses, affairs, a bus explosion, several proposals, several weddings, a musical episode and lots and lots of tears.

    3. It evokes these feelings of familiarity that are like…hmmm…how do I explain this? Oh. Yes. Déjà vu.

    4. You will be compelled to re-catch-up and then, because you started at Season 6, you’ll then want to go all the way back to Season 1. I just know myself, guys. I mean, yourself. You know.)

    So, this morning! Monday morning, our first morning of being back to a routine that required two lunches packed effectively, two backpacks arranged properly and two bodies dressed presentably. As if Monday isn’t hard enough!

    Screen Shot 2017-12-18 at 9.07.24 PM

    I did OK, as I got both kids dressed, fed, brushed, washed and coated…and we were so going to be on time…

    but I could not find my car keys. Because I have not driven in DAYS.

    When I finally located my keys, on a chair in my living room (because that makes sense), I looked at the clock and knew that I would be late. That familiar feeling crept right in and I was brought back to THIS DAY (that was a big post for me). If I was as late as I thought then I would have to walk my daughter into school and I was not, in fact, dressed to do this. We pulled up to her school, the doors were locked, and I had to schlep two children out of the car, across the parking lot, and into the school office while wearing fuzzy sandals and a pair of pants that are so stretched out that I have to hold them up. And do you know what is very hard to hold while also holding two small hands? Pants. So, on top of everything else, my pants partially fell down three times in the elementary school parking lot.

    Their school day went by in a blur, as I spent time working, advocating, networking, making some big parenting decisions, taking calls and working some more. All was going smoothly–or as smoothly as a Monday can ever go–until my daughter got off of the school bus. My son and I had raced out of the house and down the driveway to greet her. I saw her little friend for whom I had a little Christmas gift, and so I asked her mom if she could watch my kids while I ran inside to grab it for her. I scooted up the driveway (fortunately, I had changed into pants that fit, so they stayed up, this time!), went to unlock the back door and stopped, in horror, as I realized that I had, in my haste, grabbed the wrong set of keys. A set of keys that I do not even recognize. (Apparently it is my husband’s old work keychain?)

    I was locked out. Again. This time I had my phone (a plus!) but also two children (negative!) and I could not believe that I had such a similar experience to that which I described above in the jingle jingle piece. Thanks to my friend in the driveway, some MacGyver-like-skills and a mudroom filled with winter coats, we got back into our home, safe and warm. And yet, I still felt that déjà vu, between the tardy drop-off and the being-locked-out-thing. Both highlighted some incompetency on my part. Both made me feel less than in some way.

    Why am I the mom who, sometimes, makes my daughter late to school? And why, when this happens, am I not dressed in a cuter outfit, or at least one with pants that will stay up?

    Why do I lock myself out of my house?

    If I can’t do it all, am I at least doing enough?

    However, if I am being truly honest, in thinking about it more, I think that today highlighted the growth that I have experienced in the past year.

    When I lost my keys this morning I had perspective and did not feel the world crashing down on me. When I worked all day I worked hard. When I locked my family out of the house I got myself back in, and not because of a stroke of luck, but because I figured it out on my own.

    I have grown. Perhaps not enough so that my pants will fit, but I have grown.

    It is not that different than the interns at Seattle Grace turned Seattle Grace Mercy West turned Sloan Grey Memorial.

    When Mer and Christina and Alex and George and Izzy started out, they were so green. They made innocent mistakes (like George’s failed APPY), but they learned from these errors and they did not make them, again.

    So, while I will not claim to be an Attending yet, I am definitely approaching my Fellowship. I have declared my specialty.

    I am a mom, a wife, an author, a blogger and I can juggle all of those things pretty well.

    When it comes to things that are outside my comfort zone, it’s a toss up; sometimes I can fake it and sometime I fail. Making sure that my kids are always on time and not locked out? I’m a solid 85%

    Making sure my kids feel loved every single day? 100% for sure.

    So, while so much of what I was feeling today resembled déjà vu, perhaps it was something new. 

    The parts that felt familiar were less jarring than they were comical. And isn’t that what growth is all about?

    Next time that I find myself in a rushed or frazzled or locked-out-ish situation I will make sure to remember that I can handle this, that it does not make me less of a mom/grown-up and that if I just stay calm and put on my big girl pants I can handle it.

    Even if they fall down.

    *The writing of this post was halted when I learned of the untimely passing of an amazing friend and vibrant spirit. Matthew. I wrote a tribute to him several years ago and I am so glad to have this piece of him alive and with me, always. 

  • Five Things Podcast

    Hello! Hi! I’ve missed you!

    As you can see from the photos above, I have been busy. SOOO BIZZY.

    You know, with things like re-doing my bathroom, getting makeovers at my daughter’s new salon, taking & printing photos at the dinner table with my girlfriends and dancing at Kellerman’s. DIRTY dancing.

    In all seriousness, the collage above shows just a few snaps from this past weekend.

    (Ok, sadly, Kellerman’s was only in my mind–but always in my heart,

    and I spent most of Saturday-Sunday in overalls, Lowe’s and my Powder Room.)

    But, as I was painting and, truly, all throughout the week last week, a few “life lesson”-type-things kept appearing in my consciousness on repeat, and so I decided to memorialize them in my latest Podcast episode.

    The Five Things Podcast, to be found in your iTunes feed, here or in the embedded audio below.

    This past week, I learned so much, and some of it, I learned the hard way.

    I elaborate so much more on the Podcast, but to boil it down to an actual list, here are the 5 things that rotated in my mind like horses on a carousel:

    1. So much can change in an instant.

    1A. Never say never (unless you are willing to admit that you were wrong).

    2. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It can still be awesome.

    3. Friendship is crucial. It is key. It is invaluable.

    4. Try to say, “yes” more often, if you can. Except for the times when you should definitely say, “no.”

    5. Things can be bad and good at the same time. As long as it is within your value system, you should feel free to break any “rule” without feeling too guilty.

    ***

    The list above is vague, filled with cliches and may not totally make sense. But, as I said, so much more will be explained (and revealed!) if you listen.

    And stay tuned as I prepare to share some exciting upcoming posts with you, including a DIY Powder Room Project, book updates and an inside, uncensored look at “a day in the life”.

    I will be sharing things that have changed me, things that scare me, things that move me and my hopes/goals for the coming (and ever-so-quickly-approaching autumnal) season.

    And, of course, the scoop on the doctors at Seattle Grace Mercy West Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital. Because, you guys, it’s really good.

    But, for now, I have some work to finish.

    A watermelon to carry.

    And, most importantly, two kids to kiss goodnight.

    With love, paint-covered-hands and Hungry Eyes

    xx,

    B

     

  • The Never Podcast

    When it comes to my tribe, I am so lucky.

    I have said it before and I will say it again.

    I feel so grateful that my best friends, with whom I speak to regularly, send me texts saying,

    “You NEED to publish a new episode of the podcast! I miss your voice!”

    They know my stories. They do hear my voice, over the phone and in person. They are just amazing and supportive and tribe: I love you!

    That said, I love having this Podcast. It is so much fun. So much so that, if you have listened to (or listen to) Episode 3 you will hear that I had to record it twice, as I lost the first take.

    All of my podcasts are recorded on my iPhone in one take, off the cuff, with no script or plan. I just talk, which is basically the perfect job for me. Because, if we have ever spoken, you will know how I tell a story.

    Instead of going from A to B I go from A to Q to R to an explanation of how Q brought me to R and as an aside did you see this episode of TV show X and then to F and then, finally, maybe, I arrive at B. Oh, and this story will have been prefaced with my saying, “To make a long story short…”

    Brevity is not my strong suit.

    The most recent podcast from last week is based on a blog post that I wrote two years ago, entitled, Never. In it I invent a verb and in the podcast I talk about how life has changed in so many ways, and how it has also stayed the same.

    Why am I telling you this? Because the next episode is going to be the long-awaited “Birth Story” story.

    Birth Story #1 that is, when I had my daughter and first became a mom. The story that brought me here, today.

    I am publishing this episode this week because my baby–the amazing, beautiful human who made me a mom–is turning seven. Is that even possible? I mean…

    The best thing I can do is to point you here, which takes you on our journey. It links to when I wrote about planning her first birthday when she was six-months-old. And now she is turning seven?!?!?!??!

    Also, my best friend is asking for her birth story to be on the podcast…even though she knows the story. She was there.

    See? My tribe is the best tribe.

    And so, if you want to listen to The Never Podcast (episode 3) or catch up from the beginning, you can:

    click here The Podcast

    go into your phone and look for my name or “Mommy, Ever After” in the iTunes podcast section

    or google it.

    However, with the last option, I caution you…you never know what you might find. I once had someone find my site because they searched for “Jeff Lewis baby unibrow“. So, actually, that could be fun!

    In the meantime, I am going to go play with the little girl in donut pants who has asked me to do Just Dance 2017, teach her yoga (ha!) and snuggle.

    Much love to you, my tribe and babies with unibrows,

    B

    (P.S. if you want to see some recent family antics, including #sibinggoals, hula-hooping, baby’s first manicure and so much more, don’t forget to check out our Instagram page. You’ll laugh. You’ll cry. You’ll judge. But hopefully you’ll like. xx)

  • I DO know how to toilet train my son!

    It only took one year of trying!

    Exactly one year ago, I published this post entitled “I do not know how to toilet train my son.”

    I swear that I wrote a follow-up post to the original, but I cannot seem to find it. I did, however, write a more recent post involving my son and the toilet, but it was less about potty training and more about a Play-Doh toy.

    In any case, we have finally potty trained our boy. It is funny; he’s a really smart kid, but also incredibly stubborn, so his refusal to toilet train was less of a lack of actual readiness and more of a lack of wanting to do things on terms that were not his own.

    Would you like to know how it ultimately ended up going down?

    (No pun intended. Ew, guys!)

    This past weekend I took off his diaper and put a pair of Paw Patrol underwear on his little body. And, once again, I sat him on his little potty seat and in order to get him to stay on, I did what he asked:

    I told him scary stories.

    My kids are obsessed with scary stories. But because my son is also scared of said scary stories, he dictates how he wants the story to go and the storyteller must oblige.

    For example, he will say, “Tell me the scary story about when you go to Bubbie and Zeydie’s house and it’s really dark there…”

    and I will say, “One night I drove in the dark to Bubbie and Zeydie’s house and when I got there all of the lights were off and it was very dark inside their house and I called out for them but no one answered. So, I went up to their room, and they were asleep!”

    and then he will interrupt me and say,

    “No! They were at work! Say that they were at work!”

    and so I will say,

    “Ok, so I was at Bubbie and Zeydie’s house and it was dark and I called out for them and I looked all over and I couldn’t find them so I called them on the cell phone and I realized that they were at work!”

    And then he smiles.

    He’s like this tiny, strawberry-blonde dictator, ordering me from his throne.

    (And yes, there the pun was, indeed, intended.)

    Scary stories FTW!

    I DO know how to toilet train my son!

    ***

    If you listened to the new podcast, about which I am so excited, first of all, thank you so much. Your feedback has been so awesome and I am humbled, as always. I appreciate you so much. Second, since I was speaking off the cuff, I shared that I had just driven my daughter to school that day in my robe and tie-dyed sweatpants from the childrens’ store, and so I prayed that I would not be late and have to walk her in.

    Oh, but today, my friends. Today, it finally happened.

    This morning was a hectic one, and we do not like hectic mornings around here. Do you remember the whole jingle jingle day?

    Well, this morning was unusual because of yesterday’s snowstorm. The roads were icy this morning, and so my daughter’s school was opening 2 hours late, but my son’s school was opening on time. Initially, this seemed like a good thing, as I felt that it would give us more time in the morning, as tasks would be spread out.

    No.

    That’s not how it works, evidently.

    This morning, while rushing to get my son to school on time, I searched frantically for his glasses (which is a general theme on this blog and in my life) and could not find them anywhere. And not only did I have to pack a normal day’s worth of supplies for my son, but today I also had to pack his cozy blankets for rest time and outdoor gear and as many pairs of underpants as possible.

    I finally gave up on the search efforts (I do not want to be a spelunker when I grow up) and loaded both kids into the car and despite the fact that we live directly across from his preschool, we were late.

    We missed carline.

    And do you know what that means?

    I had to walk him in.

    It finally happened.

    I had to walk a kid into school while wearing my robe.

    I am just so basic right now I don’t even know what to say.

    So, I walked my son into school WITH:

    pigtails

    my husband’s beanie on my head

    a robe

    sweatpants

    my daughter (also in her nightgown, with jeans under it)

    bags (in my arms and, I assume, under my eyes)

    trepidation

    I walked my son into school WITHOUT:

    his glasses (boo!)

    diapers (yay!)

    makeup (fine!)

    dignity

    ***

     Yesterday was a successful snow day in the land of mom. I worked and I played (major emphasis on the latter) and I hit all of the major “successful snow day” marks (which I talk about in Episode 2 of the podcast! I recorded it last night and I am so excited!)

    I tried to take a photo with my kids

    17212153_10113235760262224_1975004720463154806_o

    and ended up with my favorite video ever.

    (Just know, if you decide to watch said video in the link above, I suggest you do so without a beverage in your mouth or a full bladder, as I have now watched it at least 20 times and I cannot stop laughing, just as hard as I was captured laughing in this video clip, if not harder. My son is my shy child, and so watching him dance like this–especially with the facial expressions–slays me!)

    Last night, my daughter told me that I am the reason why her life is good, because I am “nice and loving and cuddly” (even though she later asked me if I would be sharing her sweet quote on social media; I am going to trust that she was being sincere).

    So, I have done a lot since the last time I wrote, despite the fact that it has only been two days.

    I got my kids to be completely obsessed with Fleetwood Mac (my daughter is walking around the house singing, “What makes you thing you’re the o-o-one”).

    I jumped off of the swing into a huge pile of snow.

    I did the preschool version of the “walk of shame”.

    And…

    I learned that I DO know how to toilet train my son.

  • It was amazing

    “You never play outside with us like that, mama!” my daughter said, smiling. 

    “I know, love,” I began. “I want to play outside with you…”

    She cut me off. 

    “No, mama. You did play outside with us today and it was the most fun day ever. It was amazing.”

    ***

    I cannot even begin to count how many times I have written about my mom guilt and that number is about 8 billion fewer than the number of times that I have felt it.

    I think that there are enough nuggets in this post that I should not have to link all of them individually, but it has certainly been a focus on this site, because, in all honesty, it is a focus in my life.

    I hate to be redundant, so I often refrain from complaining about all of the things that I cannot do. I try to stay positive.

    I write about the little things that make me proud.

    Sometimes, it is the tiny things, like making homemade chicken tenders that my children actually eat, and sitting with them, reading a story, as they smile and chew.

    Other times, it is after a stressful morning, during which time I have made food for four individuals for at least two meals each, dressed three of said people and gotten everyone out of the door, on time.

    On those mornings, I pat myself on the back, drive to work, and give it all I’ve got.

    Then, there’s this.

    Screen Shot 2017-02-07 at 3.36.10 PM

    If you can read the caption from my Instagram post last night, you will see that yesterday morning, after successfully getting my daughter to the bus stop on time (SCORE!!) my pants fell down. On the street. As a car drove by. Slowly.

    There was a full moon in the Philly Suburbs yesterday morning.

    I often try to make light of, and to find the humor in, my current “situation”.  I do it subtly. It’s a coping thing.

    I also don’t want people to read this site and say, “Womp Womp, there she goes complaining again,” and so I try to really illustrate how I cherish so many things in life.

    I could make a list right now, with great facility, of the reasons for which I am so grateful for my tribe, just because of things that they have said and done in the past few days alone. I have the best team ever.

    But I am getting off topic.

    I was talking about being proud. And I can’t let myself diminish that, nor do I want to take away from the main point of this post.

    And so I am going to tell you a story. I do love to tell a sweet little story from time to time.

    One week ago, last Tuesday, I picked up my son from school and we had a nice snuggle session while waiting for his sister to get off the bus. Once we fetched her from the bus stop, we took the 30 second walk home and instead of trekking right inside I suggested that the kids play on their jungle gym. The backyard is right off of the top of our driveway and so it was staring at me, beckoning us for some imaginative play.

    I should back up a bit. When we decided to move to our new house, one of the greatest selling points was the property.

    I am not a gardener in any way and I have never thought about “the property” when looking at homes (I have been much more focused on where I could envision putting my Jonathan Adler canisters and pillows, tbh).

    But this house. I found it to be enchanting. Not only do we have this great backyard with a fully operational greenhouse

    (do you know how magical it was for the kids and me to be able to make THIS from our own backyard this past summer?)

    but I found our front yard to be reminiscent of a fairtytale forest. We have about 70 different types of trees (and that is actually not an exaggeration; if anything, an understatement), with those that are huge and majestic, others that are short, twisty and look like giant Bonsais and some trees so tall that I literally cannot see the top.

    But, despite my adoration for my outdoor space, I have not been able to enjoy it fully, yet.

    We did not cook out this past summer. We did not play capture the flag or manhunt or build a real snowman.

    And so, last Tuesday, something inside of me said, “Stay outside. Capture the moment.”

    And I did. But in the real way, meaning not from behind the lens of the camera on my phone. In fact, my phone died, and so it was just the three of us, with no phone, no camera, no inhibitions.

    That is why the picture below looks like summery; it is from the summer.

    image3My kids played on their jungle gym, making up games that involved pirates and rescue missions. I sat and watched them and took in the beauty before me.

    When when I looked behind me, I noticed something else. Our property is all gated in (Lola heaven!!) and there is a huge area of pachysandra that spans from the far side of our backyard all the way to half of our front yard. And I thought to myself,

    “We should totally make a path this summer so that we can go from the backyard to the front yard from that side of the house, as well. That would be so much fun! The kids could have the run of the entire place in a safe way.”

    I mentioned this to my kiddos and told them how excited I was feeling for the warm weather and how we could run around and go through those passageways and up the different paths that lead to the front door and play games and…

    I paused. What was stopping me? What was holding me back?

    Well, primarily, I was nervous about walking through the thick pachysandra for the first time, as I envisioned animals and nests and things popping out at me. But I was wearing over the knee boots, which was comforting for me

    (and yes, this is how my mind works) and so I thought, “I can do this. I think I can. I think I can.”

    “Hey guys, do you want to all hold hands and be brave and run through to the front yard?”

    So I stood in the middle of our group, a small hand in each of mine, a lot of leather covering my legs (in case of a rogue squirrel colony), and we ran.

    We ran across the crunchy green below our feet and made it to our front patio.

    We literally laughed with glee, and ran around, celebrating.

    “How cool is this? We can do this!”

    image1

    And so I suggested a game. First, I tried to play tag, but since none of us are big fans of running and there are some size/speed discrepancy issues, I then moved on to hide and seek.

    We spent the next 45 minutes playing hide and seek behind the beautiful trees in the front yard. We took turns, and this game got intense. In fact, I hid so well, at one point, that my son got scared. I had to call out, from my post behind a large Holly tree*, to say “Buddy, I’m here! I am just hiding because I am supposed to be hiding!”

    *I have no idea if it is a Holly tree but it looks like it to me based on my knowledge of trees and my extensive Google Image research.

    We played and played and laughed and squealed and played some more.

    My son even coined a new name for our game, the super creative, “Hide and Seek Trees”.

    (The name has stuck, by the way, and they’ve talked about it every day since.)

    image2

    When it was finally time to go inside, we went to our back door, stripped off our muddy shoes and coats and though it had gotten a little cold, I felt so warm.
    It was one of those times when I did something that was so “normal” or “easy” for most parents, but such a big deal for me.

    It took extra mental and physical fortitude, but I pushed myself, and it was so worth it. I cannot always push myself–

    I should not always push myself–

    but in this case it was the perfect balance of motherhood and self-care.

    We had barely crossed the threshold into our house when my daughter grabbed my hand. She looked up at me.

    “You never play outside with us like that, mama!” my daughter said, and when I tried to reply with an apology, she made sure to add,

    “No, mama. You did play outside with us today and it was the most fun day ever. It was amazing.”

    And that meant more than anything.

    I had taken the other path. And it was scary, but it was everything.

    My pride skyrocketed higher than the tallest trees.

    My heart felt bigger than the fullest Holly-looking-tree.

    It was enchanting.

    It was magical.

    It was amazing.

  • #motherhood

    Why lick the bowl of brownie batter when your brother can paint your face with it!? 

    Scene: Home, after a long, lovely winter break. It’s the last day before going back to school. 

    11:30am

    Boy: Boppy! Do you want to go downstairs and get a snack together?!

    Girl: Yes!

    Boy: Yay! Because we are best friends!

    (I thought to myself, “Wow, these are the moments we live for. This is what it’s all about. We are so blessed that our children love each other so much. My heart could burst!”)

    11:42am

    Girl: MOM? You might want to come downstairs. Someone is drawing letters and numbers…

    with syrup.

    Me: What? Where?

    Girl: On the kitchen floor.

    (I thought to myself,“Wow, these are the moments that I could not make up if I tried. This is what it’s all about. And three really is a harder age than two! He is still so cute..but is he actually the kid from “Problem Child”?”)

    and then, I asked, out loud,

    “OMG what is on his face? Why does he have blue paint on his face? Where is the paint?”

    I felt a moment of panic.

    Girl: Oh, no. It’s not paint. It’s just the frosting from his blue doughnut.

    #motherhood

    Keeping it real since 2010.

  • Morning Glow.

    Morning glow by your light
    We can make the new day bright
    And the phantoms of the night
    Will fade into the past
    Morning glow is here

    At last.

    -Stephen Schwartz, Pippin

  • Things that made my heart burst yesterday:

    The incredibly touching comments that I received on my emotional day post on Facebook.

    The launch of the new website for Pearl Communications, my PR firm. It was actually the owner who suggested that I use Brand Revive and then ended up hiring them herself, with brilliant results.

    A great phonecall with my friend who told me she would make a wish for me at 11:11.

    Eating brownie batter (pre-egg) with both of my kids and having matching chocolate mustaches.

    Discovering, accidentally, that over a half a year ago, a woman blogger whom I do not know nominated me for a Liebster award.

    liebsterScreen Shot 2015-01-08 at 11.14.51 PM

    An impromptu visit by my grandparents so that they could drop off two new winter coats for my daughter, just because…

    …and then my son falling asleep in my arms as we chatted; My daughter then climbed onto my other side and wrapped us all in a blanket and my Mommom and Poppop watched the three of us with sheer joy.

    Getting a card addressed to “Aunt Becca”. #friendshipisthickerthanblood

    Catching a phonecall with J, with whom I have been playing phone tag for two days, only to say, “I have to go in 7 minutes because I have an important call with a doctor and my kids are running around like crazy and I’m home alone with them.” and then hanging up on her when the doctor called, only to see her face at my front door 10 minutes later. She didn’t offer. She didn’t ask. She just showed up.

    My husband coming home from work and saying, “I have something for you.” That something was not a traditional gift (it was actually a self help book to be honest) but he’s never been big on the traditional romantic gesture, now has he?

    Giving my son his bedtime and kissing him twenty times before placing him in his crib. Giving my daughter her bedtime and cuddling with her, nose to nose, as she told me, “You are the best mom in the world and you make me so happy and I want to be with you all the time. You are super.”

    Sending a goodnight text with a friend that was, incredibly, truly identical to the goodnight text she sent to me.

     Cozying up in a bathrobe and towel turban next to my husband on the couch as he played Grand Theft Auto 5; Bob Seger’s “Night Moves” came on as the background song and we sang it together, belting out, “…Waited on the thunder!”

    Getting a video text from my dad’s secretary from their firm’s holiday party (which included margaritas and karaoke). Because it is the greatest thing ever. (Hint: Click the link below and allow Quicktime. You won’t be sorry.)

    IMG_4551

    Agreeing to listen to a kooky podcast before bed. Because that’s the kind of thing that girls do early on in relationships when they really like a guy and they say “Oh yeah, I would LOVE to watch that monster truck alien zombie space ninja action movie with you!”, which I think means that I still feel that way about my guy; I want to listen to something to make him happy because I really like him. Even though it’s weird.

    Parenthood. And I will leave it at that, because I am not a show spoiler.

    Holding my hot and crying daughter at 2am as she said her ear was “killing” her. I told her that she probably had an ear infection, like I have just had. “Awwww, mom, are you trying to copy me?” she asked.

    I think that I am blessed to have had all of those moments, but, I think I am even more blessed that now,

    because I can finally appreciate them.