A Note From The Boss.

Hey y'all.

Yes! It's me! THE BABY. Guess what?

I STILL EXIST.

It seems that Mama has been a tad busy with something involving lots of ridiculous cheering, some tears of joy, and a toilet. I noticed that her blog posts were getting just a tad ... single-minded, so I thought I'd help a Mutha out and take a break from putting everything in my mouth to type out a blog post for you.

(We can credit this skill to Baby Einstein's Baby Christopher Latham Sholes: A Journey Through the Evolution of Typography.)

(And from eating lots of spinach.)

Mom and I were out at Target the other day when she discovered something that she hadn't noticed before (let me note that I had noticed it several times, but, apparently, my speech is difficult to understand):

Squeezable baby food pouch thingys! She started jumping up and down when she found them, something I would love to do if I knew how to stand. I've been on solid food for a few months now and I've noticed that Mama isn't as gung-ho about homemade baby food as she says she was with my older brother. Something about how she's busier now? Anyway. So, I see that my typical run-of-the-mill foods like bananas and apples and pears and green beans come from organic store-bought packages. I think it's safe to say, however, that she isn't super-impressed with the variety, so that's when she whips up more exotic stuff herself, like mango or acorn squash (she tells me she wants to expand my palette, whatever that is). But, the last time she opened the freezer, I noticed her supply was running a little low. And then she murmured something about how she'd like to make more, but, apparently, we were all sick for a week? And now that thing with the potty?

And, supposedly, I was a handful for quite some time, too? (Let's just make a quick note and understand that I am now an ANGEL BABY. Or, at least, that's the impression I get when I'm playing quietly with my toys and look up to see Mama and Dadda staring at me as though I have a growth coming out of my eyeball. What? What's so weird about me playing quietly by myself? Sigh. Parents.)

Anyway.

So, when Mama saw these pouches full of super fun creative flavors, she dumped a handful in the cart. And I think they are delicious. Plus, they're perfectly portable for when you're out and about and need to eat on the go--they squeeze right onto the spoon, mess-free. Score!

So, Mama's friends, there you have it. I hope you have enjoyed this little detour away from potty talk, as I'm sure she will return there quickly.

Time to eat some grass.

Have a lovely day!

Love,

Naomi

Potty Dance: A Question.

Okay, this is the last potty dance post for the weekend. All this posting and pottying are wearing me out!

So, precious Cubbie did awesome today--just that first initial accident and then no more accidents in the big boy underwear. Yay! We even went for a long walk and played outside, all accident-free. Hey-oh!

Then bathtime came.

And ... as I turned my back to dry off Naomi, I heard Cub exclaim, "Uh-oh! Chocolate in the water!"

Yeah it wasn't chocolate.

Needless to say, my gag reflex was in high gear as I cleaned out (read: BLEACHED) the tub and its toys. Cub got a quick hosedown and washing in my shower and all was well. Yeesh.

So, I'm not sure if his little Number Two In the Tub episode was the result of not wanting to do that action in the potty, or if was simply because he's, well, two. I'm guessing the former rather than the latter.

I know that Number Two training in le potty is typically the trickiest, so, does anyone have any tips? This little tub adventure was the first time that's ever happened--he typically hides to do his business. So, if he hides again, do I put him on the potty and try to explain that he should go?

Or should Nigh-Nigh and some tootsie rolls do the trick?

Any ideas are welcome.

Have a lovely weekend, friends!

Potty Dance, Part 3.

Hey!

I asked my veteran Mom friend if I could reference her on my blog and she said yes, I could! So, friends, the veteran Mom who has helped me immensely in this potty-training adventure is my dear friend Alyson. Her blog chronicles her wonderful family and if you read it, you will be inspired. She is a godly woman, a great friend, an exemplary wife, and, obviously, one awesome Mom to four gorgeous kiddos. Thank you, Alyson, for helping me out!

Thanks to yesterday morning's enthusiastic epic fail, I decided I would wait a bit this morning before encouraging Cub to go potty. Well, that turned out to be an epic fail as well, as he pottied about five minutes after he got out of bed. Oops! Another negative point for Mama. I think I'll always give him the option of using the potty in the morning from now on!

Besides that one accident, he's gone three times in the potty with no accidents today! He goes about every 45 minutes. I know, I know, that sounds so far apart, but y'all, this child does not like to drink. I have to literally force him to drink as much fluid as they recommend when potty training. He'll eat like a champ, but drinking? Not so much. So, I've assimilated to his schedule more and 45 minutes is about right. We went to Chick-fil-A for lunch with my Mom, so I put him back in a diaper, just in case. In the car, I heard him declare "All done!" and, sure enough, when we got home, I could tell he had pottied once in his diaper. I'm not a huge fan of going back and forth between big boy underwear and diapers while he's awake, but I realize that in this phase, it's just kind of necessary if we need to go anywhere. Thankfully, we haven't needed to go anywhere, except for this special trip today! He is now in a diaper, sleeping. I plan on going to pull-ups during outings or sleepy times, but I want to use up my diapers first. We only have a few left.

He's only gone "Number One" in the potty thus far (sorry if that's TMI). "Number Two" has only happened while he's napped, so we haven't used the potty for that. He's gone and "hid" for months now whenever Number Two happens, but a few days before I started potty training, I realized he had started doing it during his nap. Oops. Hopefully he'll get back on a schedule soon of going while he's awake, so we can work on it.

Other than that, things are going surprisingly well. There are times where I have to be stern to keep him on the potty. At first that worried me, with images of Freud telling me I was ruining him forever, but I can understand how part of any "training" involves a bit of discipline as well. Don't get me wrong--he doesn't get in trouble for not going, but he does need to sit on the potty chair for at least a few minutes to give it a fair chance. And, after a stern warning to stay on the potty, he typically goes within a few minutes. He's learning.

I am so proud of him. He prefers to be alone when he potties and, after he's through, he comes running out to find me and declares, "Wanna show you! Big waterfall! I did it!" while jumping up and down and grinning. I jump around with him and give him a huge hug and tell him how proud I am of him. And I mean it. Part of me is so sad to see him become such a big boy, but a much bigger part of me is bursting with pride. Seeing his delight only multiplies my delight. We still have a long road ahead, but we're off to a good start. :)

Okay! Time to get back at it.

Have a lovely weekend, friends!

Potty Dance, Part Two.

Okay. I've got fifteen minutes.

:)

This morning, I (very enthusiastically) ran into Cub's room as he woke up and declared, "IT'S POTTY TIME!" I was hoping my enthusiasm would put a positive spin on the day; however, my non-morning-person Cub stared at me through sleepy eyes under a mop of bedhead. When I sat him on his potty chair, he hung his head and buried it in Nigh-Nigh. And moaned.

We'll go ahead and take a point away from Mommy on that one.

Needless to say, he did not go pee pee. In fact, he waited a good 45 minutes before he decided to release a "WATERFALL!". Thankfully, that "WATERFALL!" was in his big boy potty, and much cheering and high-fiving and M&M consuming ensued. So, obviously, he knows how to "hold it" and this morning I could see him prancing around in a potty dance, knowing he needed to go, but not wanting to release it. I am seeing the importance of reading his personality and not just going off of my own.

Okay. Here are some quick tidbits before I jump back into it:

-His response to accidents has changed. At first it was a bit of apathy, and now, he declares, "WET!" and he hates it. That's good. We haven't had any accidents yet today, but we still have a long day ahead of us!

-Understanding when he is "dry" is almost as important as him using the big boy potty. I think it's safe to say he knows the difference between wet and dry now (as it pertains to potty training, of course).

-Throwing a parade in his honor every time he goes potty in the potty never gets old.

-We've called several relatives and friends with each success and they've been awesome at cheering him on.

-He loves standing at the sink and playing in the water, so I've let him do that all day. All that water makes a boy gotta go! :)

-We're totally homebound! But, it's okay. I have lots of stuff to get done.

I'll update again later or tomorrow.

Keepin' it real,

Katie

:)

Potty Dance.

I was going to wait until I was through potty training Cub before I wrote a post about it, but then I decided that it might be more useful to kind of write it as I go, so y'all can follow me as I try to figure out what in the world I'm doing!

So!

This is what I am doing!

Cub informed me this morning that he would like to wear big boy underwear. I was thrilled, but then realized I had no clue where to go from there. I had read a book (Potty Training 1-2-3), but wasn't sure where to start. So, naturally, I called one of my veteran Mom friends and asked for some advice. She had potty wisdom a'plenty and graciously allowed me to tap into her knowledgable reserves. So, it is with her guidance that I'm beginning this very intimidating journey with Cub.

The Method: He firstly saw Mr. Lion "go potty". I put Mr. Lion in a pair of Cub's big boy underwear and walked through the routine: I pretended like he was drinking from a sippy, then I asked him if he was dry, then I put him on the potty, poured some water in (yay! Nigh-Nigh went potty!) and then I wiped his tooshie and, of course, gave him an M&M.

Cub was in awe.

The timer on my phone is set to go off every fifteen minutes. When it buzzes, I take Cub to his potty chair (I carry it around the house with us) and ask him to tell me if he is wet or dry (he is wearing big boy underwear). If he correctly answers dry, he gets an M&M. He then sits on the potty chair for two minutes. If nothing happens, then we pull up his britches and go about our business. If he potties, we act as though we've just won the lottery, with lots of cheering, jumping, hugging, and, of course, more M&Ms. I realize that some people might cringe at the thought of all of that sugar. Go ahead and cringe. Then cringe some more.

Then cheer when you see the pee pee in the potty and realize M&Ms are AWESOME MOTIVATION.

Then cringe some more and leave me a comment on the horrors of sugar. Then have an M&M. It will make you feel better.

He then gets a sticker on his potty chart. Ta-da!

As we are now in the thick of the first day, I realized that I came into this thinking that the goal was to have no accidents. But, as the day has progressed, I realized that accidents are a functional part of training--if he's never wet, he won't necessarily understand the full meaning of dry. So, we've had more successes than accidents, and I think he's getting it.

And I'm exhausted.

And very, very proud.

Naps (and bedtime tonight) will still be in diapers, as I'm fairly sure that night-training is an entirely different animal. We'll move on to pull-ups during sleepy times next.

So! Day One. The timer is about to go off again, so I need to hurry to the kitchen. I'm not crazy about posting pictures on the Internet of my child half-nude on the potty, so I will leave you with this:

The timer went off in the middle of this picture uploading and yay! Cub did it again! Phew. This has been a long day!!

Bye, Bye, Dr. Brown.

This weekend, I decided to whip out the sippy cup for Naomi, seeing as she's getting a bit older and this is probably a good time to allow her to get comfortable seeing it and handling so she can, someday, drink from it.

I filled it with formula for her lunch time feeding and nonchalantly handed it to her as she lay on the floor (I let her hold her bottles for some feedings), leaving the room momentarily to check the laundry.

When I returned, two ounces were gone.

I know it doesn't seem like much, but it's kind of a big number, considering she only drinks five ounces per feeding. I stared at her in awe as she sucked the other three ounces down in only a few minutes. I picked up the empty sippy in disbelief and stared back down at my smiley, giggly baby girl still sprawled on the floor. I was slightly baffled because, according to my recollection, it took Cub at least ten minutes to get a mere ounce down when he first started on sippy cups.

And then it dawned on me that our little lady has been a bottles-only baby for the past three months. And, this particular Nuk cup is awfully similar to a bottle. Cub was still breastfed when we introduced the sippy and while he did well with bottles, he only took them a few times a week. And sippies took some time for him to get used to (until he was weaned to a bottle at eight months--then he took to sippies quickly). Naomi chugged her sippy down like it was no problem.

Sneaky lady.

So, I'm throwing this out there: Does bottle-feeding versus breastfeeding affect the speed at which a baby masters the art of the sippy cup? I'm curious as to what your experience has been. My hypothesis suggests that there is a potential correlation between bottle-feeding and sippy cup skillz.

Either that or my child is part vacuum.

What do you think?

Love {Snow Ice Cream}

A friend of mine recommended that we try this. So, I googled the recipe!

: Firstly, collect roughly a gallon of snow (preferably clean snow)

: Secondly, add one cup sugar and one tablespoon of vanilla and stir. Give it a tasty-taste and adjust accordingly. Add two cups of milk, until the ice cream is the consistency that you desire.

: Our ice cream was the consistency of a snow cone and tasted like heaven.

: Lastly, give a bowl to a cute kiddo who is sick of having his picture taken.

: Enjoy!

On Monday.

It's safe to say that I had a pretty crummy attitude on Monday.

I had awoken with the feeling that there was a balloon inflating inside of my head. The pressure on my ears and sinuses was awful. No amount of blowing my nose helped, and I felt miserable. I shuffled my way out of bed and encountered two sickly kiddos. Naomi had a runny nose and a bit of a fever, and Cub was congested. While still wearing my awesomely oversized and unattractive sweatpants (a la husband) and a dirty grey (maternity!) v-neck shirt, I moved slowly throughout the house, doing my usual morning duties (diaper changes, breakfast, coffee), quite lethargically, occasionally brushing a strand of (dirty) hair away from my eyes with my hand.

I wiped snotty noses and changed horrendous diapers, coughing all the while. I noticed my husband was running low on work clothes, so I did two loads of laundry in the midst of all of this, and then somehow found energy to make a big crockpot of chicken for him to use as lunches throughout the week.

Sneezing all the while.

The nap I had hoped for never came, since the kids were off and didn't feel well. My eyes were heavy and red with the cold and I found myself, in the midst of this, feeling quite sorry for myself. I sat on my bed and shook my head at the unfairness of it all. I was sick and wanted to sleep. But the only person I didn't have time to take care of was myself. My children needed my constant attention and so did my husband, and he wasn't even there! And then I remembered 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18: "Rejoice always, pray without ceasing; in everything give thanks, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."

I've claimed these verses for a while now. And I knew that, in that moment, I was not praying without ceasing, and I definitely was not rejoicing. And because I was failing to uphold the first charge of rejoicing and praying, then I was failing miserably at upholding the second part: Giving thanks. I took a deep breath and tried to, in that moment, find something to be thankful for.

Y'all, it really wasn't that hard.

I looked up at the roof over my head, looked down at the two beautiful kids at my feet, and felt the softness of my bed. I am enormously blessed.

A few days ago I had another weak moment and vented a bit on Facebook and then immediately underneath my frustrated post I commented my apologies and made myself find something I was thankful for. A concerned good friend of mine wrote that it was okay for me to be frustrated--good even.

And I totally agree with her. I think maybe she was afraid that I didn't feel like it was okay to be upset about things. I think God gave us emotions for a reason and that it's perfectly fine and healthy to be angry, upset, frustrated, etc. I just think it's what we do with those emotions that matters. Everything starts in the heart and we have to decide how it's going to come out. How it's going to manifest itself. And, rather than spread my frustration to everyone else with a crappy attitude, I'd rather catch it while it's still inside and turn it into something more lovely. Like thankfulness. It's hard to be grumbly when you realize how blessed you are.

So! I felt my attitude change and for the rest of the day there was an added bounce to my lethargic shuffle.

As I re-read this post, I can't help but laugh because it sounds like so many posts I've written before. Obviously, having a good attitude is something I strive for and fail at sometimes! But, looky there, I just documented my life efficiently, which was one of my resolutions. Now you know that Katie was looking all kinds of ugly on Monday, on the outside and the inside, and that a little change in perspective made everything a bit more beautiful.

Um, on the inside. I didn't get a shower until the next day. :)

Have a lovely day, friends.

Melting Boogers.

Gross title, yes?

We finally caught the sicky bugs that have been going around, and this week we've been up to our elbows in fussiness, poopy diapers, Boogie Wipes, and laundry. While we've seen everything from fevers to puke, one thing that has remained consistent is the always-ambitious RUNNY NOSE.

With a two year old who doesn't exactly blow his nose with amazing efficiency, a little trick my cousin taught me has come in quite handy: Melting boogers.

I'm sure many of you know this and employ it, but it was news to me when she told me about it and it's made our snotty situations much more bearable.

Firstly, you soak a washcloth in hot hot hot water. Then you tell your squirmy toddler that you're going to "Melt boogers! And if you're good ... you get to SEE THEM!" Press the washcloth against their nose (as though you were wiping it) for a few moments and if there is snot or boogers in there, they will come out on the washcloth. Cub hates having his nose wiped, but seeing the huge boogers that come out of his nose is pretty much the coolest thing ever, so he complies. I use the nasal aspirator if there are some pesky ones still stuck in there, but, for the most part, the washcloth does the trick. At the end of it all, his nose is clean and he's happy because he's seen some awesomely cool snot. A little shot of Little Noses before commencing is helpful as well.

Then, of course, throw the washcloth in the washing machine!

Boogie Wipes are good to use in the interim, too.

And yes, I totally wrote a post about boogers. That's how I roll these days.

Have a lovely day.

Seven Months.

Dear Naomi,

You recently turned seven months old. SEVEN MONTHS OLD.

I know, I know, I'm awful at keeping up with these letters. Just bear with Mama on this one!!

This month was a pretty big deal. So, let's get to it!

Growth

You now weigh 15.4 pounds. You are still long and lean with a little head. People still mention how petite your features are, and they're right! Little nose, little mouth, little hands. Little Mouse.

Development

This month we started implementing a set routine. Our pediatrician was definitely on to something! Of course, once we started to get things going, you got sick, which turns everything on its head! But, for the most part, you've adhered to it very well, which shows me that you appreciate the predictability (unless we're out and about ... then you're all kinds of happy to be around people, and don't seem to care one bit if you're on a schedule or not!). You have a bottle and cereal around 7:00, then it's nap time from 9:00ish to 10:45ish, then bottle and lunch at 11:00, catnap from 12:30 to 1:30ish, then a snack bottle around 2:00, and your final and long nap from 3:30-5:30ish. Then it's bottle, dinner, and then bottle and bedtime at 7:30. At home, you like the predictability.

It's been extremely helpful and you've done very well. So well, in fact, that the other day as we were driving around town, you suddenly let out a cry and it actually caught me off guard. Fussiness used to be your mantra, but this new routine has cut down on that, so much to where it's now the exception rather than the rule. Phew! I'm glad we've found something that works so well for you.

You are a giddy, sweet baby girl. You are definitely strong-willed, but you are, at the same time, happy-go-lucky. You've really picked up on playing by yourself. I like to fill up your little toy bin with your toys and place you next to it. And you can entertain yourself for a good twenty minutes with just emptying the bin, one toy at a time. You pick up each toy, inspect it, and set it down after it meets with your approval. Or it ends up in your mouth. Either one. You still love to jump in your jumper, too, which is all kinds of cute.

You are now getting up on all fours and rocking, but there is no crawling as of yet. You absolutely love to stand up (with help, of course) and you can hold on to the couch standing and balance for a good ten seconds. There's this tiny part of me that worries that you might take after your Dadda and walk at nine months ... but we're thinking happy thoughts and predicting that you'll take your time!

You love to "talk" by babbling back and forth with any obliging party. You are a social butterfly. The family is convinced that your very clear "MAMA!" is directed at me, and I think I have to agree. I'm fairly certain that you know who I am and that you enjoying calling for me when you are fussy or get hurt.

Food

You have five bottles a day, and eat solids for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Your breakfast usually consists of oatmeal and sometimes oatmeal and prunes. For lunch and dinner you have a fruit or a veggie. You love bananas, squash, pears, and green beans. You tolerate mango and peas are definitely your least favorite!

Sleep

As mentioned earlier, you take three naps a day. The first one is long, the second is short, and the third is long. Then you go to bed around 7:30 and are now sleeping solid (YAY!) until 6:45 or 7:00. You continue to love your pacifier, and you are allowed to have it during sleep times or sick days. You can now put your paci back in with impressive efficiency, which makes all of us very happy in the middle of the night!

Little Mouse. Our hearts continue to burst with joy for you. Just last night, as I was giving you your bottle in the nursery, your Dadda walked in and stood there while we both stared at you while you ate. And then we smiled at each other. Even though we are getting used to having two kiddos and the joy and craziness that accompanies it, there is still this underlying feeling of awe and humility, realizing how abundant the blessing of children can be. You still make us catch our breath. We delight in you, Little Mouse. We love our baby girl.

As always, we can't wait for what lies ahead.

Love,

Mama

From The Baby.

Dear Mom,

Pink onesie?

Pink flower clip?

Sparkly tutu?

I THINK THEY GET IT.

I THINK THEY KNOW I'M A GIRL.

(But, just in case, I'll give you this deliciously coy pose.)

Love,

Naomi

Love {Favorite Bedtime Snack}

: half cup of Brown Cow plain or vanilla yogurt :

: approx. 1 tablespoon of Justin's Honey Almond Butter :

: half a banana, chopped :

(It replaced my nightly cup of hot coco. And it wins.)

Wise.

While readying myself to prepare for the adventure that is potty training, I hit a little speed bump:

Cute, yes?

For the past week, she's seemed a tad fussy. Okay, REALLY fussy. Fussing when I left the room. Fussing when I laid her down. Fussy through the night. It was, essentially, her typical behavior, only amplified. I took her to our pediatrician on Monday and hoped he could provide some answers.

While I held her in my lap, he checked her ears, checked her lungs, checked her gums ("Ear infection?? Croup?? Teething??"). He patted her head, rolled back in his chair, and declared she was in perfect health. I sat there, a bit dumbfounded, and said, "I think I must be going crazy. I could have sworn there was something going on." I should stop here and say that we absolutely love our pediatrician. He somehow manages to be refreshingly light-hearted and straightforward at the same time. He has not only seen our children grow, but he's seen us grow as parents. Me, especially. So, when he saw me sitting there, desperate, he smiled and told me he had a diagnosis. My eyes lit up and he said it:

"She's strong-willed."

Wait, what? I looked at the baby girl bouncing and smiling in my lap and my mind went over what a typical day looks like for us at our home: She's happy when she wakes up, happy when we're playing ... happy when she's eating .... fussy when she's left alone, fussy when we lay her down, fussy when she ... isn't ... constantly ... entertained. Then she goes from fussy to screamy. Screamy for a long time. My head fell back as I moaned that YES, he was RIGHT. I knew she was a spitfire. I just always thought she was a bit of a sickly spitfire (with the dairy issues of old), so I always rushed to her aid whenever she let out a fuss. And, honestly, it helped to keep the mayhem down if constantly keeping her within my view meant she wouldn't fuss (which makes it tough to accomplish anything). It hadn't dawned on me that I wasn't working to teach her the value of playing and being alone. And now, at practically seven months old, she knows how to get her way. Time flies, I mean, it FLIES with the second baby. And truly, I had lost track of time. It has been three months since she's been weaned. And yet I've still treated her like she is sick, needing constant attention.

Well, folks, no worries there. My little lady is healthy as a horse.

So, I asked our pediatrician what I should do. He grinned. Not a happy grin, but an evil grin. Like he knew that I wasn't going to like his answer. My eyes grew wide and I asked, "What??" He smiled and answered, "Baby Wise."

My jaw dropped to the floor.

"What?? I thought you didn't recommend Baby Wise!" He then clarified that he hadn't recommended it for Cub, because Cub didn't need the kind of discipline that a schedule provides (he just put himself on a routine). However. Naomi does. After smacking my forehead dramatically and groaning on how much I really don't like Baby Wise, I finally conceded that I could see its value in this situation. Naomi put herself on a routine a few months ago, but my giving in to her fussiness never allowed that routine to progress and develop, as all baby routines do. It was really hard for me to admit it, but my pediatrician was right. I knew she needed to cry it out. I knew she needed to learn to play alone.

I knew she needed boundaries.

I knew she needed the thing I tell all of my new mom friends their babies need. They need a routine! Boundaries! Discipline starts in the crib! And yet somehow, some way, I had forgotten my own advice. My stress and the way I allowed myself to simply cope with the chaos of our days had gotten in the way of my ability to see things for what they were: Unacceptable. I was managing, but I wasn't thriving. I think a big part of me still sees her as this tiny infant, but really, she's growing rather quickly, and I know that if I don't put an end to jumping at her every beck and call, I'm going to REALLY regret it a few months down the road. It's a lot easier to teach a baby the value of doing things on her own than it is to teach a toddler.

Especially a sassy one, like my little lady is sure to be.

After we left the doctor's office, I called a friend and asked for the book. I've read it before and I reviewed it again that night. It wasn't nearly as intimidating when I realized I was going to be applying some of its principles to a seven month old, not a seven day old. And in my head I envisioned myself eating a very large piece of humbled pie.

When I gave Naomi her bottle at bedtime, I snuggled her close to me while we rocked in the glider. I took a deep breath and explained that things were going to change a little. She smiled and played with my hair.

Today was the first day of trying to create a routine. Naomi did awesome. Her biggest challenge continues to be when I leave the room. So, I let her fuss about it and work it out for a bit before swooping her up with a kiss. And by the end of the day, her stretches of being able to be alone were getting a little longer.

So, is this a post recommending Baby Wise? No. It's just a post recommending that you do what is best for your kids. I could say that Naomi might not respond well to a routine at all. But I know she will. I know she needs boundaries. I just needed a trusted person--her doctor ... and someone we would consider a friend--to tell me she's ready.

We're both ready.

A gutsy, tough little lady ... and her very humbled Mama.

Snow Buddy.

"Lookie at ALL THAT SNOW!"

(Lookie at that yummy Cub in a monkey hat, too)

The Throne.

We have a new addition in our home:

It plays music. SWEET!

Twice last week I heard some veteran mom friends hint that perhaps it's time to start potty training Cub. Their reasoning? HE'S READY.

Oh. I, eh, really? I hadn't noticed!

(I'm so terrible at this sometimes.)

So, I decided that with the frigid temps heading our way, it would be the perfect time to stay cooped up inside with the potty. We'll give it a go. I think I know the route I'm going to take, but I'm interested to hear what you have to say about it.

What did you do to potty train?

Love: WATERFALL!

: water on the floor

: water on the sink

: water on the chair

: water on the Cub

He was delighted.

Have a lovely day.

Pinch. Ouch.

Yes. I am totally pinching my gut and putting a picture of it on the Internet.

After Naomi was born, I lost the baby weight fairly quickly, thanks to my no-dairy diet regiment. Naturally, when she was weaned, I comforted myself with the likes of venti Starbucks drinks, most of which included caramel and chocolate to some degree, and I, slowly but surely, started gaining weight. Add in some holidays with a side of pie, and I've officially done myself in. I stepped on the scale yesterday to see that I was a whopping EIGHT POUNDS over my pre-pregnancy weight. Do you know what this means?

This means it's not baby weight, folks.

It's just weight.

So, thanks to a helpful friend who initiated some circuit training I can do at home, plus Zumba classes, plus some tweaks in our diet (like, say, passing over those four cookies for some apples and almond butter), I have set some weight goals for myself this year.

Now. I know that some people hate reading about other people's weight stuff, finding it petty and annoying. And if that's you, then go ahead and skip this post. But, I hate to admit it, but this blog has very little to do with pleasing its readers and has more to do with being honest. And if that pleases you, then great! And if not, then please note that there are no banners, no ads, no money coming from this blog. It's really just for me. And if you'd like to read along, then you are more than welcome to. I love the company!

So. Back to The Plan. This year is punctuated with events that will serve as small markers for my overall weight loss goal. I've mentioned before: I am a short-term goal lady. Long-term goals and I just don't work well together. So, I've decided to make a weight loss goal with each event. My overall goal is to lose the weight slowly and steadily. I know if I drop it fast, the chances are better that I'll gain it right back. Now that we are finished having babies (as far as we know), it is very important for me to develop and keep a healthy lifestyle from here on out, knowing that a) I can't eat like I used to be able to, and b) I won't have breastfeeding to bail me out!

Here is The Plan:

March 11: Brother-in-law's wedding, in which I am a bridesmaid

Weight loss goal: Five pounds

Memorial Day: BEGINNING OF SUMMER

Weight loss goal: Five more pounds

August: Trip to New England (where we will undoubtedly go to a beach)

Weight loss goal: Five more pounds

October: Trip to Aruba (LOTS OF BEACH I'M HYPERVENTILATING)

Weight loss goal: Two to five more pounds

The overall weight loss goal is between 15-20 pounds in ten months. Overall, it isn't so much about weight loss as much as it is about being healthy and feeling good in my clothes. But, at this point with these first ten pounds, it HAS to be about weight loss. My "Mom pooch" is now a "cookie gut" and that just needs to change!

So, why put it on the Internet? Well, if posting a picture of myself pinching my fat isn't good accountability, then I don't know what is. You have all now seen me at my worst. And I hope that in ten months, you will be able to see me at my best. I will keep you updated at every marker, posting a picture of my progress. And if there hasn't been progress? Boy, will that be embarrassing! And if there has? Then you know I've worked hard for it.

I love food. This won't be easy.

Okay. I just heard a big splash and a very giddy "WATERFALL!!!" come from the kitchen, which means TROUBLE. Gotta go!

Have a lovely day.

Candyland, Boy Style.

Gingerbread rebels spotted in the Lollypop Woods.

Sad to say, the yellow gingerbread man never made it to the Candy Castle.

(Rumors imply that Grandma Gooey was somehow involved.)

Twenty-Eleven.

: take the kids, with my husband, to New England in August for my Memere's 90th birthday

: lose whatever weight it takes to feel confident in a bridesmaid's dress in March, by going back to my "Naomi Diet" (my regiment when I was nursing her) and moving away from my "Thanksgiving and Christmas Gluttonous Gain Extravaganza"

: continue writing what I'm thankful for every morning on Facebook (even if it is only for coffee and the promise of nap time)

: trust God's hand as He leads us through changes this year

: show love more tangibly

: finally stand up on a wakeboard

(I finished my Mighty Autumn List, but did a terrible job blogging about it. My apologies.)

(So, perhaps I should add "document life more efficiently" to the list.)

Have a lovely day.

Must Withstand Tonka.

: I wanted jewelry for Christmas that reminded me of the kids.

: A pink sapphire ring, to represent pink tourmaline, which is Cub's alternate birthstone (because pink works quite well to represent my baby girl, too).

: I preferred sapphire to tourmaline because, well, hefty price tags are not quite my taste.

--and--

: A locket.

: Waiting to house pictures of my two cute kiddos.

---

: There was a time in my life when I thought "mom jewelry" was maybe a little lame.

: But maybe I was the one who was a little lame.

:)

Have a lovely day.