all the birds of a feather.

so, Jacky spent the day at my moms yesterday.  trying to broaden his horizons and give me a mental and physical break. last night we did same old routine, we cuddled for a bit longer in the rocking chair because he seemed to need to.  by that I mean, everytime I tried to move him he’d hang on tighter and tighter to my shirt.  so I sat there cuddling until he lightened his grip.

he woke up at 12:45ish.  I went and patted and turned on twilight turtle.  left.  he went berserk.  I heard poor Lincoln wake up and try to soothe him, “it’s OK Jack!  It’s ok!”  in a tired moaning voice.  around 1am he was still fussing and Jack usually ‘crys it out’ within 6-9 min so I went back in and brought him juice.  that appeared to anger him.  but I was worried that he might actually be hungry and if so then it would help him.  he wasn’t.  I picked him up and cuddled in the chair again similar to the previous evening.  no nursing though!  laid him back down after a bit with the juice and left.  didn’t hear a peep til 4:30, at which point I brought him to bed to nurse.  otherwise, left to his own, he and Lincoln would be up at that time and the day would be LONG.

I love mornings.  love them.  always loved the silence of them (note, loved).  love the birds waking up.  the fog lifting.  the sun creeping over the world.  I have always been an early riser.  my boys got my genes.  they rise with the birds.  before the birds even.  I wouldn’t mind, I like it when I notice little parts of me in them.  however, gone is that mystical foggy time.  that magical moment when dark meets light.  when silence meets noise.  now, dark crashes into light.  silence is slammed away by feet pounding thru the house, shrieks erupt during diaper changes, toys are thrown, babies are crying, crying, CRYING.  shouts of

“LOOK AT ME!” “watch me!”  “more munk!”  “where’s my cup?  I wost it! I wost my munk!”  “I need more munk!”  “LOOK AT ME!”

yelling from the sister.  cries from the brother.  music from the daddy.  stella singing Rio.  toaster popping.  to say it’s loud is the understatement of the year.  the poor birds.  I bet they’ve moved.  my coffee is cold before I can drink it, fetching all those damn milk requests.  how can they seriously drink SO much?!  they have to be hiding a camel.

there is a beauty in the madness however.  some mornings it may be hard to discover.  a choreographed life being danced.  little people being built, cup by cup, song by song, hug by hug.

my silent sunrise has been replaced by wiggling chorus.  stella quietly mouthing the words to a song.  her blue eyes shining (clutching a cup of milk).  the fog lifting has been replaced with brothers hugging and kissing good morning.  the early morning chirps of the birds have been replaced with squawks and squeals of babies.

I will end with a verse from the current number one song at our house (Rio!)

“never alone for this is our home.”  sometimes silence is overrated.


ok, I can’t take it anymore.  for the past month Jack has been crazy fussy, only wanting to be held and nurse ALL DAY LONG.  it’s more than slightly annoying, and it’s not good for him.  instead of playing and learning, and discovering, he’s clinging to my legs crying.  not good.  for anyone.  makes a momma snap.  and it’s making me hate breastfeeding.  which is not good.  I know what the issue is.  he’s tired.  and so he’s cranky.  and what does he do when he’s feeling sub par?  nurse.  SO……starting tonight there are no more night feedings.  nada.  the boy needs his sleep.  no more getting up every two hours.  I will not entertain getting up that creates a crabby, crying baby come morning.  this is gonna be hard for me, I don’t deal well with crying at night.  but we are not in a good spot mentally so a change needs to come.


I bake on sundays.  I make the food for the week, the snacks, the breakfasts, the lunches. I try to make a yummy sweet bread (that I stock full of flax seed, chia seeds, shredded veggies, and anything else I can imagine shoving in a bread).  however, this week, I was limited in my baking.  we were out of eggs.  and yeah, I could have gone to get some.  there’s a grocery store 5 blocks away.  but…..I have three kids.  and three carseats.  and I like being in my pajamas.  so instead I just googled recipes until I found something that I had all the ingredients for.  and that’s how we ended up with whole wheat soft pretzels as our lunch/snacks for the week.    I can’t take credit for the recipe, found it by a simple google search.  however, I did add the lovely chia seeds.  my little injection of health.  they are pretty healthy though.  whole wheat flour, yeast, some salt, olive oil, a little sugar.  we’ll see if they pass the Stella test.

happy hour.

my feet are stained with dirt from the park.  I love hitting the park on the way home from work.  It’s like the toddler version of happy hour.  and it’s not too far off from the adult version.  drunks and toddlers both slur and drool.  they trip.  they bash their heads into things and appear not to feel it.  they love to spin.  they cry randomly, for no apparent reason.

today’s happy hour was pretty fun.  I chased lincoln and stella all around the playground.  down the slides, over the bridges, while holding jack in my arms.  another mom told me that Jack was beaming the whole time.  lincoln and stella squealed louder than a drunk at a juke box.

the baseball team was starting a game when we headed home.  it brought back memories of when lincoln and stella were little and we used to watch the friday night games after work.  memories that seem so distant but were only barely two years ago.  I can imagine I will be watching Lincoln on that field in a blink.

as we were walking home the sun was setting.  it had gotten cool, sweatshirt weather.  the sky was pink.  perfect evening.  I hope this weather stays.  I hope park happy hours are back into our routine.  I hope the friday night games start up and we can waste the nights away watching the boys hit balls.  I hope these years last as long as possible.

when the well runs dry

it’s hard for us to make it to church sometimes.  mainly because church is at 8am and getting three wiggly little people dressed by that hour is a feat.  but we get there as much as we can and when we do I am shocked (not sure why I’m shocked) that the sermon always seems to portray directly to my life.  I’m sure this is listed under the catergory ‘what the holy spirit does’  that God gave us but all those technical details slip me at times.  

we had a ROUGH week.  going on week three of 5am wake ups.  cranky crankers.  Jack was getting a tooth ( or possibly four).  even crankier.  just tired and worn down.  worn out.  running dry.  today Pastor Dave said (and I love Pastor Dave.  best Pastor I’ve had)  ”let me tell you why I believe in God.  it’s not because I’ve seen miracles that are described in the bible, miracles of instant healing and moving earth.  it’s because I’ve seen miracles in everyday moments.”  he went on to explain that as humans we can only last so long.  we only have so much in us.  as some point we run dry.  we get worn out.  we break down.  but.  then something happens.  that when God steps in.  when we give up, when our well runs dry, when those 5am mornings wear us farther and farther down the slippery slope of hell.  that’s when He steps in and takes over.  when our hearts have taken all the beating it can, and we think it’s just gonna stop beating.  He keeps it going.  WE would give up at that point.  HE doesn’t.  and that’s when miracles happen.  when you don’t give up and you know you have been pushed past every breaking point, that’s your miracle.  that’s your God.  aaaaaannnnndddd……there He is.  looking back at this week I can almost pinpoint the exact times he stepped in.  I can list the times I hit the brick wall.  Times I said, “this is it.  I’m done.”  and sat down.  and then, suddenly, stood back up.  and continued on.  

Moments this week that God gave us (cause we all know I would have sat crying in the corner stuffing my face with chocolate):

riding bikes, stella running “oh dere just so many many sped bumps!”  taking the bumpy, tree-roots-destroyed-the-sidewalk, path home.  

new routine.  bringing lincoln into the nightly reading of “go to sleepy sleep” book.  and discovering that he has been needing those nightly hugs and talks just like stella.  how tight he hugs.  how he eagerly he kisses goodnight.  how bashful he acts when we talk about prayer. 

taking lincoln grocery shopping, having him pick out food for the family.  such great, healthy choices.  (carrot juice, fruits, hummus, cheesesticks -the YELLOW kind he says)  even though I know his favorite foods, it was fun to see what he would choose to eat, given an entire store.  love learning him.  

we’ve had breakthrough in the toddler meal department.  use ice cube trays as plates.  put super healthy yummy options in each hole.  a great little buffet for tiny hands.  they’ve consumed more broccoli and carrots and quinoa puffs this week than ever.  

cuddling with jack at night/early morning.  love those early morning sleep sessions.  love cuddling him and feeling him snuggled in.  

tomorrow is a new week.  there will be moments when I want to give up.  there will be moments of pure insanity.  chaos.  confusion.  exhaustion.  but I know something.  I have a secret, I have a Partner.  my well never runs dry.