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Does this look like the face of a Sick Girl?

See, I don't think so either!

But she is in fact sick. I thought she was in the clear. She hadn't thrown up since Tuesday, had worked her way back to eating, and had a full day of regular meals yesterday. She has been her normal, happy self.

Until this morning, when she vomited her breakfast all over the highchair. Thankfully (for me at least) I was at the gym and Daddy was On Duty.

But she's been all smiles all day! With the exception of the fact that she very clearly wants to eat (we're easing her back to food for fear of vomiting retribution) she has been so happy!

Playing in her room while the boys napped, she was drawn to her Safety 1st nightlight (it is safely screwed into the outlet and includes an outlet cover, no worries).


Standing there, she laughed...

Banged on the wall...

Explored the nightlight up close...

And checked to see if it was edible. Hey, I said she wanted to eat, didn't I?

What a goofball. Did I mention that last night she stood up without holding on to anything for the first time? Considering she wasn't even pulling up on furniture a month ago, I consider this amazing progress. I was thinking she'd walk later than the boys (Mason and Cole walked at 12 and 13 months, respectively) but who knows...

Until next time...

Parivrtta Ardha Chandrasana

"Say what?" you say? Today I did this really challenging yoga pose and boy did it feel good.




"Parivrtta Ardha Chandrasana" translates to "Reverse Half Moon." This is "Half Moon" or "Ardha Chandrasana" (the pictures look similar, you'll notice his arm is switched so he's getting much more of a spinal twist in the first picture):

I was in my standard Friday yoga class. The teacher, Laurie, was switching things up a bit today and did a class focused on strength. She threw this pose in and demonstrated the three modifications: Level One where you kept both hands on the floor; Level Two where you lift your arm and did what the second picture depicts; and Level Three where you reverse it like in the first picture.

After seeing the demonstration from Laurie (who is wicked flexible and makes yoga look so beautiful and effortless) I decided I was sticking with Level Two. She typically gives modifications in this manner and I feel like I'm generally a Level Two. She also was talking today about how you should respect your body and work yoga around your body and not to try to work your body around yoga.

So we went from the Level One pose into the Level Two pose, and then Laurie instructed the Level Three people to move into the Reverse Half moon, which I had already decided I wasn't going to do because I deemed it beyond me. As I'm chilling there, balancing in Half Moon, sweating freakin' buckets because it's not as easy as it looks (try it), Laurie comes over and whispers to me, "Don't you want to try it?"

To which I responded, "I don't know, should I?"

And she said absolutely and helped me do it.

I couldn't freaking believe it! I was doing it! When I started regularly practicing yoga four months ago, my skills were so bad you couldn't even call them skills. My main reason for starting yoga regularly was my flexibility was so lacking. At first I was a wee bit disappointed with how long progress was taking. But lately I've noticed my flexibility is really improving--I'm able to reach father in poses and do so much more.

I have a lot of fitness goals going right now. I'm running three miles three times per week, working on increasing speed through intervals, hills, and sprints. I'm signed up to run the Disney Half Marathon in January, so I'll starting really training for that in September. I'm cross training with spinning twice a week. I strength train three times per week. And I practice yoga twice a week.

It was slow going at first, but especially considering how much I'm squeezing in right now, I'm amazed at my progress. I really am.

If I keep patting myself on the back like this I'm likely to hurt myself!

Lila the Geyser

Upon becoming a mother, you have a lot of expectations.

You expect to love your baby.

You expect to get no sleep for a while.

You expect to see a lot of bodily excretions.

I was fine with poopy diapers. I was fine with baby spit up.

But I can't handle vomit. And Lila is on Day 3 of vomiting.

I don't know if it's the vomit itself that churns my stomach or if it's the fact that vomit is a sure fire indicator that your child is really sick. Maybe it's the fact that I am aware of the highly contagious nature of a stomach illness and the propensity that it may spread to me, my other children, or worse--me and my other children at.the.same.time.

Another learning curve this go around--I've never had one of my children vomiting at such a young age. Lila is 10 months, and the youngest age that one of my children first got the stomach bug was 17 months (Mason, only weeks before Cole's birth. He also got it again when Cole was two weeks old, and again when Cole was a month old. That was one period in my life where I literally questioned God if I was going to survive). So again, I am humbled by my "the more kids I have the less I know" philosophy.

Anyhow, I've been working through the aforementioned learning curve. Trying to keep her hydrated with Pedialite, carefully rationing it so as to hopefully avert another bout of vomiting.

I officially declare the saddest scene in the world is when a 15 pound ten month old baby is dry heaving into the bathroom sink. The feeling of her wrenching body in my arms, the look of sadness, pain, confusion, and panic on her face, coupled with the sight of a body that's practically in convulsions... well it could bring a grown man to tears.

Cole's Birthday -- The Recap!

Every veteran parent knows that kid's birthday parties are fun fun fun, but work work WORK! It is for this reason that I decided to outsource Cole's 3rd birthday party to Gymboree. It's a little pricey, but totally worth it because cleaning up after 20 kids aged four and under plus their loving parents is not my idea of a good time. This way we can focus on the Fun and not the Work. And you will see, Fun was had!

The boys wasted no time getting down to the business of play. We were there less than three minutes and this was the scene. Just the two of them in the play area....

Swinging...

...and climbing....

....and monkeying around.

Cole loved this little tunnel thing. Later they made a "train wash" out of it (since the party theme was trains) and they blew bubbles in there.

A Motley Crew

They played a maraca game where they doled out maracas to all the kids. That in and of itself was immediate fun. But then they instructed them to BANG on this tube thing, which was a fan favorite. They played a song that during the chorus said "Pause" and all the kids yelled "Happy Birthday Cole."

Check out Cole's face....

Lila with her maracas...

The cake was eagerly anticipated by Cole. I made cupcakes and arranged and decorated them to look like a train...

As soon as they put the cake in front of Cole, he blew out a candle. Mason was so annoyed that Cole had upset the order of things. (This is a testament to their personalities--Mason's regimented, orderly and controlling while Cole is free spirited and easy-going.)

Ms. Carla relit the candle...

...and Mason restrained Cole whilst we sang.

(Cole's getting a little testy with Mason's hand on his shoulder.)

Free at last!

One...

Two....

THREE!

The sweet taste of patience!

Back to playtime... They brought out the parachute AND.... (drumroll please....)

BUBBLES!

It was like Manna from heaven. The happy happy happy faces on these kids while they played and danced around to this bubble song were a visual delight.

As the song wound down, the lyrics told them all to lay down and sleep. The girls were all about this--they boys were like "What? Stop? Are you kidding?" And they took off.

And just to prove I was actually in attendance, here's a picture of me and Cole. All the mothers out there know--you're never in the pictures because you're always taking the pictures!

P.S. Here's a shot of Rey and Cole during the Special Birthday Breakfast. Cole was so excited for this--when they went to leave for the restaurant he walked out of the house with a swagger like you've never seen before. Mason is already talking about his birthday on "Ontover Fourteen" (October 14th) so he can have Special Breakfast.

A Special Day for a Special Boy

Cole at two weeks old. I truly and honestly can't remember when he was this small and have a hard time believing this is him!! This also makes me realize how much he and Lila look alike sometimes.

Dear Cole,


Today you are 3! There is much to celebrate.


I can hardly remember a time before you were born. I can hardly remember a morning where you weren't standing by my bedside, asking me to make you breakfast. And I can't remember a single day in your life that you haven't spent sharing your sunny disposition! You really are the happiest boy on the block!


Three Things to know about Three-Year-Old Cole:


-You are a precocious little boy. Smart as a whip, and I'm not just saying that because I am your mother. Every day you amaze us with a new tidbit of knowledge you have gleaned from somewhere along your way in life. You never miss a beat.


-If I could describe you in one word it would be Jolly. You really are a good natured little fellow.



-Your favorite things are cars, trains, and your recent love of dogs. You are always careful to point out that dogs eat bones, not pizza.


The coming year holds a lot in store for you. Soon you will be starting school! And Daddy's determined to teach you to pedal your own bike, once and for all! Before you know it, you will be four years old, and we'll be saying, "Remember when Cole was 3?"


I'm so glad to have you little ColeBaby (and I know you're not a baby, you don't have to keep reminding me!). You really are a little beacon of light in my world. Mason made me a mother, but you made me a better one. Thank you for the privilege and honor.


Love,

Mama

Why do I torture myself like this?

So Saturday is Cole's birthday. He's turning 3! Rey and I have decided to start a new birthday tradition for the kids. Now that there's three of them, it gets harder and harder for them to feel "special" and have special time with one of us. So on their birthdays, one of us will take him or her out to breakfast. We tried to start it back in October for Mason's 4th birthday, but Rey was still commuting back and forth from Key West and wasn't here in Naples on the morning of Mason's birthday. So that was failure to launch.

Well, all systems are "Go" for Cole's birthday. We still hadn't settled on who was going to take him. Rey was asking me last night who was taking him and I said, "Well, I really want to take him, but I feel like you should get to be the one to take him." Rey said he feels the same way--he wants to but thinks I should get the chance.

It ended with me saying that I'll ask Cole who he wants to take him--after all it doesn't matter what WE want because this little adventure is all about him. And I KNOW Cole will pick Daddy. So what ask the boy you ask? Why not just concede the breakfast trip to Rey? I can only assume I like to torture myself...

ME: Cole, you get to go to breakfast on your birthday all by yourself with Mommy or with Daddy. Who do you....

COLE: interrupting (we must work on the kid's interrupting habit) Daddy.

ME: thinking to self Man he didn't even let me finish my question, I didn't stand a chance.

COLE: Daddy to take me for pancakes.

ME: You don't want to go with mommy?

COLE: Nope. Daddy.

ME: Alrighty then.

He's three (or almost). I don't fault him, Daddy is at work from sunup to sundown, and when he walks through the door you'd think it was Jesus himself. I get it. It was like having the kid choose between brownies and broccoli.

Daddy = New and Shiny.

Mommy = Old and Dull.

P.S. We countdown to special days by "wakeups" -- i.e., there's 10 wakeups to Christmas, 4 wakeups until school starts again after summer break, etc. I told Cole today that it's two wakeups until his birthday. He just came and announced to me, "Mommy, the clock says it's my birthday today. No more wakeups left. The clock say it."

Admitting it is the First Step

This past Sunday I took on a daunting task--cleaning out the kids' closets.


Every time I went to grab an outfit for Lila, something wouldn't fit well. Every time I went to find a certain color shirt for one of the boys, it was hiding somewhere. So every time I went to pick out clothes for them, I thought I was going to lose my mind!


I spent most of the day Saturday out shopping. Lila and I hit the mall--it had been so long since I'd been there that a couple of stores had disappeared! I shopped until I dropped. Lila apparently did not inherit my love of the store--she gave me the stink eye all day, like "What the heck are we doing here Mama? I could be home trying to steal food from my brothers."


When I got home and went to hang up my new purchases there was not an empty hanger to be had in the kids' closets. And the color-coordinated nature in which I usually hang things had been tainted by the recent change of Rey hanging up the clothes (which I appreciate, I do, I just wish he shared in my love of anal organization). So I decided Sunday was the day.


I sorted. I piled. I packed away. I rehung. I color sorted. And soon, I could fit no more in the closets.


I stood there and surveyed the beauty of the perfectly organized closets that I so love.


And I realized--these closets are full. As in lady-you-have-no-business-shopping-for-these-kids-anymore full.


I started counting. The boys have a total 31 pairs of shorts hanging, and that's not counting the ones they were wearing and the ones in the wash. Okay, perhaps that's a bit excessive, I thought. Better not count the shirts.


Amongst the pile of clothes evicted from Lila's closet were quite a bit with tags still attached. I bought things before she was born and she never fit in them at the right time. What a waste! Buying ahead is a rookie move--I always do it and the things rarely work out. But it always seems like such a good idea at the time...


It was then I realized that I have a problem. We always joke that I'm a shop-a-holic, but perhaps there's something to it.


So I am officially putting a moratorium on buying children's clothing. The people at Gymboree are weeping, I promise you.


Rey was excited--you could almost see him counting the savings that would result from my self-imposed clothes shopping boycott.


But, because I'm a good American and want to do my part to revive the ailing economy, I've moved on to a new addiction--purchasing housewares! Seriously, Bed Bath and Beyond is my new mecca!