My husband did the 6:45 wake up with the kids and then he napped with the baby in the late morning. When they came down, I asked him if I could have an hour to rest.

“Take more than an hour,” he offered, generously. “Take all the time you need.”

So I decided that while I would not take advantage of his kindness, I would take a nice, long shower, wash my hair (this is actually a big deal. Hi, twinny!), get into bed and doze off, likely to the sounds of Slate’s Serial Podcast (I know. “They’ll tell you I’m insane.”

I grabbed my most plush bathrobe, salon shampoo and

and…

and

then this is how it really went down.

I was barely out of the shower when I heard small footsteps and the words “Mama! Mama!” being chanted on repeat. It was my son, who broke into the bathroom. He held out his arms to me, and instead of picking him up, I just hugged him. We stayed for awhile in that embrace, I was on my knees and he smelled like pretzels. When we separated I also saw that he had a handful of my Vanilla Cream Valentine’s Day Peeps. I felt blessed and warm inside, despite being dripping wet.

Not a minute later my daughter was up, joining us in my bedroom as I tried to transfer from towel to bathrobe while constructing a turban on top of my head. “Oh, hi, mom.” She had a handful of Swedish Fish.

I told them both how much I love them. I moisturized and brushed my hair and then I walked downstairs…

to find my husband, perched on the couch, playing a videogame.

“Are you missing anything?” I asked.

And that, my friends, is what an hour of relaxation time is like for a mom. Gotta jet, I still have 21 minutes.

And that’s if Battlefield 4 doesn’t get in the way.

The post An hour as a mother. appeared first on Mommy Ever After.

So, when I heard this song, I was moved, immediately, and sent messages to my husband, and to J, for different reasons; because CSNY was our first concert together and because my inner spirit is a peace sign to her.

Tumbleweed, your inner spirit is a peace sign to me
Life is full of little tricks and we can always pick up sticks
And build again, that’s what we do

Harmony, the way we hold on when we tumble though the night
Life is full of strange delights, in the darkness we find lights
To make our way, back home again

Tumbleweed, I’m baring my soul to you
Tumbleweed, it’s all that I’ve got that’s true

Bite me now, with your confusion, your happiness and delight
It will only hurt a moment, then it’s gone and you can see
There’s nothing left, to leave a mark

Animal, care for your kind, in the way you always do
When the flower moon is shining, it’s eclipse and your lips smiling
Comfort me and I comfort you

It is interesting; when I heard the acoustic version of this song on the “Coffeehouse” station this morning, it was sung as “Tumbleweed, your inner spirit is a peace sign to me.” and that is the same diction used in the official listing of the song lyrics. However, in the link above, which is considered the video for the song, the lyrics are changed to “Tumbleweed, your inner beauty is a peace sign to me.”

I will take either.

Also on “Coffeehouse” I heard this old classic, about which I texted my main band bro, saying, “We should totally do this song!” and then proceeded to belt it out, emoting greatly, publicly, on Lancaster Avenue.

My drive took me to Vivi G. shoes in Eagle Village. It was the coldest day in recent memory, but I wanted to get my flip flop on.

I have mentioned recently that I am just finally starting to very, very slowly replace a few items from my lost shoe collection and I was so lucky that my girl, Jen, owner of Vivi G., hooked me up with my sandal start. But I also managed to have a little fun…

After my quick shoe shopping trip, I had a much more profound trip down memory lane. I met up for tea with an old friend. All that I can and will say is that this person was once very special to me, and though I have not seen her in closer to two decades than one, she now means more to me than ever. She is what I call a Unicorn; she is someone who is, if you can believe it, equally beautiful inside and out. Her inner spirit is a peace sign to me.

 The rest of my day was spent doing regular, every day things. I went to the bank. I picked up an entire roll of tinfoil off of my first floor. I spoke on the phone with my friends.

And when it came time to do bedtime, my daughter asked if she could read along with us.

My kid is reading and it is really cool.

I, meanwhile, could barely read “Fox in Socks”, despite the fact that I consider myself to be a master at tongue twisters (I even teach classes on the things!) and definitely said some inappropriate words. Sorry, Dr. Seuss.

We somehow made it through the Tweedle Beetle Battle and cuddled up and talked her favorite subject, once again: the plans for her upcoming birthday party. “We could do a swimming party,” she said. Her birthday is April 18. “Where are we going to be able to have a swimming party?” I asked.

“Miami!”

I held her to me and did want to let go.

I chose a new lullaby for my daughter tonight. “Kiss Me”. I thought she would like it.

I was right.

And a few minutes ago, long after we tucked her into bed, as I was working on gathering the music for this post, she came to my door and said,

“Keep on playing it,” she whispered. “It’s amazing.”

Her inner beauty is a peace sign to me.

The post Your inner spirit is a peace sign to me. appeared first on Mommy Ever After.

My husband’s early morning Facebook status update.

This was when she crawled into our bed around 7am. Usually, one of us gets up and takes both kids downstairs, but this morning, for a change, we both woke up and brought the baby into bed and she followed.

“Daddy, I had a dream and you and [K’s best friend] took me to this party at a haunted house and I made a new friend. And there were ghosts, and skeletons. I was just walking along and suddenly there were dancing ghosts. And skeletons. And ZOMBIES.”

 Then the discussion turned to her birthday party. Her birthday is in April.

“We could have a clown come.  [beat]  The problem is, I don’t. like. clowns.”

It was then probably 7:02.

“We can have a Scooby Doo party. I already told J that she is Shaggy. Or, actually, let’s do a Grease party. Or we can do the Scooby Doo party and daddy can dress up like a ghost and we can make your car into the Mystery Machine.”

The thing about my daughter is, she does not stop talking. Apparently she comes by this honestly; I have been told that I was the same way as a child, but I cannot imagine that it was to this extent. She actually never, ever stops talking.

There was a Saturday, two summers ago, when we decided to do a “new” “fun” family activity and visit an organic orchard somewhere west of our suburb. The drive from our house to the highway is probably 4 minutes long. She was so chatty in those four minutes that when we got to the place where we would get on I76 I told my husband to keep driving straight, so that we cross the bridge into Philadelphia and have lunch right there, one minute away. It was even too much talking for me.  I was already so exhausted by her that I could not imagine another 45 minutes in the car. And this sounds so terrible, as I adore my child and love how verbal she is. It is one of her most fabulous defining features. But sometimes, when she won’t stop talking and we are expected to engage in every part of the conversation…

it gets to be a lot.

This morning, my husband took the kids down for breakfast while I lingered a bit longer in bed and I came down to find her eating,

wait for it–

Rice Krispies and a chocolate donut. Good intuition, that kid.

She then asked if we could sing the finale song from “Into the Woods” with the Baker’s Wife (me) and Baker Baby (her). I was in the middle of singing, “Hold him to the light now,” when she stopped me and said “No, really hold me to the light.”

Next, she wanted to hear this song, which is awesome.

It is actually something we are working on next door, as my bandmate and I like to try to find interesting harmonies or songs with counterpoint melodies. We have gotten into a good groove that way and music means so much to me.

In any case, this morning my daughter wanted to sing the girl’s part of the song so I sang the boy’s part.

And then she wanted to be the girl. Not Taylor Swift; nor Taylor Swift specifically from the “Blank Space” video; she wanted to be Louisa from the YouTube video.

I put lipstick on her, tied her half into a half up bun and dressed her in the closest thing I could find to a blazer, which was a jean jacket with leather arms.

She then performed her part, alone (refusing help when I tried to teach her the actual lyrics) and asked for me to video tape her.

I did and put it on my private Instagram. My friends pointed out something very funny. Truth be told, I actually just laughed out loud while typing this.

Instead of singing

“Got a long list of ex-lovers
They’ll tell you I’m insane”

she actually sings,

“Come along with stomach lovers…”

And then it was time to get ready for school.

So there you have it. My kid is funny. She makes me laugh every day, and even though she doesn’t stop talking, I am lucky that I get to have so much entertainment in my life,

all before 8am.

The post My kid is funny. appeared first on Mommy Ever After.

Today, his favorites have been my toothbrush, a potholder, “his” iPhone (an old, out of service phone we use as a sound machine), a bag of quinoa

and

my bottle of Jo Malone “Honeysuckle and Jasmine Cologne”.

I think that this is supposed to be used as a perfume, but I use it as a room spray.

And this just isn’t any room spray (and I don’t say that because it is ten times the price of normal “room sprays”). This bottle has a story.

When I was a Junior in college, I had just broken up with my my boyfriend of two years; the boy whom everyone (myself included) thought I would marry, and so I was feeling a little down in the dumps. My confidence was not at it’s highest and my college experience had just changed abruptly and I was living by myself in an apartment, the first (and only) place of my own.

Through some charity function, my Mommom had won a champagne luncheon at Neiman Marcus, featuring the fragrances of Jo Malone. There were about 10 of us, including my grandmother, mom, aunt, and their friends and we sipped champagne and smelled a lot of strong scents until I found one that I liked; One that I really liked.

I mentioned it, offhand, and the next thing I knew, one of my mom’s dear friends handed a bottle to me, offering it as a gift. “Here,” she said. “To new beginnings for you.”

I was so touched. I thanked her and said, “Perhaps this spray will fill my new apartment and bring me the man of my dreams.”

Well, wouldn’t you know, guess who took me out on my very next date?

And I still have the original bottle, and it still has some life in it. I am in no way affiliated with or sponsored by Jo Malone, but I can still say, that is pretty impressive.

And to think, it all started with a little bit of fairy dust and a squirt of perfume.

 But kid,

if you know what’s good for you,

you best leave my Jo (M) ALONE.

The post Jo (M)alone appeared first on Mommy Ever After.

And yes, I did eat a few Rice Krispies off of the floor. It just kind of happened.

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The post My son finally found a toy to play with that is not dangerous, nor is hazardous! appeared first on Mommy Ever After.

It is 5pm.

I have been placed in a tiara and am being forced to wield a wand.

My hot cocoa just exploded in my microwave. And then I choked on it.

And, my daughter is running around, speaking only in French, “directing a play”, dressed like this

And, the kids want to watch Scooby Doo but I am putting on Vanderpump Rules.

Oh, and my daughter just ran over to me to say, “MOM! The baby just spilled my juice. But don’t worry. It’s not on the settee.”

Bright spot!

#sickday

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