The Norris Family

Time Flies

2012-01-08T16:28:00.005-06:00

Wow...does it ever fly. On this day last year, this was my sweet little family.

Louisa got baptized. Such a sweet day on the Norris family journey. I remember it was cold as ice outside, literally. Like I remember driving downtown to the cathedral and seeing icicles on my rear view mirrors. This girl doesn't do cold weather. I also remember standing at the front of the cathedral trying my hardest to focus on Lou's baptism instead of the panic I was feeling while I was humongo preggers with Nash having contractions scared to pieces that my water was going to break right there in front of everyone. Well, we all know it didn't. Nash had impeccable timing and waited for his actual due date. But he sure did give me scares along the way.

It is funny how just 12 months later...this is what I have.

Still an amazing miracle of life that blows my mind. PS - check that last picture, he was totally after my Blackberry. He loves that thing. Quite possibly the reason it doesn't work too well anymore. :)

On a whole other note, I am pretty sure my child has cankles. (no spell check...I didn't mean candles, sheesh)

Don't you agree? I mean, he can't help it. And his momma could just eat them up. The boy loves to eat. I mean, check out him stalking Louisa while she is feeding her Baby Alive. He doesn't understand why he doesn't get to eat too.

I promise I sat down to blog with purpose and it has completely escaped me now. Oh well. Must not have been more important than cankles. But happy baptism anniversary sweet Louisa Kate. That single day and moment in the front of the cathedral meant more to me than you will ever know. Christ's own forever...

She's With the Band

2012-01-04T13:00:00.003-06:00

Remember that sweet little skinny-jeaned girl in the last post? Remember how I was talking about how she was growing too fast?

Well she still is. But just now as I was putting away all the dishes from lunch I could hear her over the monitor singing. I stopped, turned off the water and listened. She was belting out Journey's Faithfully like it was her job. I had to smile. This is the second time I've overheard her singing that particular song. Now I could listen to music until I turn blue in the face, absolutely love music...and I just think she may be the same way. Swoons.

Well, I decided to sneak back there because I was convinced she was probably twirling and dancing and singing to herself in the mirror since she is also one of those children who are infatuated with their own reflections. So, I tip-toed down the hall and avoided all the squeaky spots in the hardwoods that I have memorized their GPS locations almost while raising 2 light-sleeping kiddos in this house. And instead I saw a sight that literally had me tip-toe RUNNING back down the hall to grab my camera and HOPE that in the meantime Nash (who was 'helping' in the kitchen by re-arranging my tupperware drawer) wasn't putting anything in his mouth he wasn't supposed to or getting into anything else and also that she would still be in the same position when I got back with my camera.

Bingo. She was. And a quick glance in the kitchen showed me Nash was still happy as a clam with the rubbermaid.

And this my friends...is how she was belting out Journey. Steve Perry could only be beaming, I am sure.

Steal my heart this child. I tell you. And yes, I probably should be concerned with her standing on her bed in her boots...but what is that about LETTING IT BE. Let her sing her heart out to a fabulous classic standing on her bed. Sweet soul. I think I may go join her.

Happy Holidays and a Year in Review

2012-01-02T20:26:00.009-06:00

Yep, gonna try and cram it all into one jolly little (ahem, probably long and winded) blog post here. The kids are asleep and I have a fresh glass of wine so hopefully I can sit and write and stay focused. Let's see how well that works.

I will say that this Christmas, by far, has been one of my favorite ones yet. I am not quite sure what made it so, but it was. In fact, I maxed out my mush-meter for the next few decades when I told a friend of mine that it was almost magical. And as soon as I said that, I almost ralphed when I realized that those words indeed came out of my mouth. It was like I suddenly needed to go and put on an apron and high heels and curl my hair and then bake cookies from scratch and later on have craft time with the kids and all the while clean the house from top to bottom. I mean, WHO just said that?

Well, I did. And I kinda meant it. I don't know if it comes with both of the kids and a knowing that this is the first of many of holidays with my sweet little complete (you see that Byron, complete party of 4) family. Or instead maybe it had to do with my overall stress level which was WAY lower than this time last year, and maybe even the years before. I seem more settle at this point in time than I remember being in a while. It sounds odd considering my house is soon to be on the market and settle is not the word I would use to describe keeping a house with 2 labradors, a tabby cat, 2 children, a home-based business and a husband that works MANY hours ready for selling. Maybe I mean settle by the fact that we know where we are going in the middle of this new year. We know that our next move will be a permanent move. It has us moving back home. And maybe overall, just knowing that this is our last Christmas here in Jackson. That combined with the knowing that we did, in fact make it. Granted we still have 6 months left...but all in all, I think we did it. Take that residency. Before I get too far off subject - back to this holiday being magical. It just was.

Christmas Eve has quickly become a favorite of mine. We always fix shrimp po'boys and homemade french fries for dinner. The kids get to open one present and Byron reads The Cajun Night Before Christmas. We brave the crowd and head to the cathedral and sit, among many and listen to the beautiful music, the reminders of the reason for the season and twice now...the brilliant words of Edward O'Connor in his sermons that I swanny he is speaking directly to me. And then, the kiddos go to bed with those sugarplum (what in the crap really is a sugarplum anyway) visions. It is such a great day and night. I have sat here at the computer for about 5 minutes now trying to grasp words to describe it, but I keep coming up blank. I just can't. But I can feel it. And it feels wonderful.

Christmas Day is of course, the most fun once you have a child to remind you of the pure joy and excitement. Believe it or not...we had to wake Louisa up at 8:15 on Christmas. My kids and their sleeping habits - don't even get me started there. But just to watch her face...I mean, I found myself just staring at her almost holding my breath while she enjoyed it all. And then sweet Nash, his first Christmas. Bless him, he didn't grasp the concept of presents but he is so excited to have boy toys to play with now. Phew. Just a few pics of all the excitement.

The before...

Waiting for Sis to wake up...

During...

I mean, look at her toes curled in excitement!

The after. Haha.

And you know me and my animals. Of course, they are part of it all and I don't know if even Louisa loves Christmas as much as Mallard. He is in the middle of it all the entire time.

Sweet Lucy just likes to have people on the floor with her

and of course the doggies love bones...

Now Murray, this is where I found her.

Asleep on our bed in the back of the house with her head hidden. Someone must have gotten into the eggnog.

Moving right along...it is official. Nash is now into everything. That fabulous stage of development when exploring is the coolest thing on the face of the earth. The word 'NO' is still not comprehended, although Nash seems to find it humorous when I raise my voice and tell him no. He stops, looks at me and gives this smile that basically says, "Mommy...I know better. I am sweet baby Nash. What are you really going to do about it?" Busted. Not a thing my sweet little man. It is cute and sweet but frustrating at the same time. Along with the new milestones comes the dreaded change in sleep routines. Now, I have yet to produce an offspring that sleeps (which is still beyond me) but Nash does better than Lou. However, NO ONE has been sleeping in this house lately, especially Nash. No naps, no night-time, etc. It is driving me cuckoo. But before I try and get all angry at him...just check out the sweetness for yourself.

And this, straight up hooligan. This is how he responds to me actually buckling him in the seat that he escapes other-wise. This is how he will sit in it. Crazy boy.

And poor, sweet Lucy. Bless her big-boned soul. This dog puts up with everything. And Nash adores these doggies.

Speaking of growing up...

who is that girl in the skinny jeans and cowgirl boots with a face that looks just like her daddy? Ugh. My dearest Louisa, please stop growing up. It hurts me.

And now for a year in review. In 2011,

My sweet, little girl got bigger and more mature than I give her credit for. And unfortunately, bigger and more mature than I am ready for.

I gave birth to a little boy that turned my heart to mush. Utter mush. I had been warned, but little did I know.

2011 was a HUGE year for my itty-bitty little clothing business. I produced by far my most favorite line that was a huge hit. Daydream Believer stole my heart. And while I was away sewing in my little sewing room, BG was noticed. I got offers from boutiques about wholesales. One of them in California, I was floored. And then an offer to have some of my collection in a magazine...and then only to land on the COVER of the magazine. Right about the time I didn't think it could get any better, I got an offer from a buyer with Zulily to purchase my collection to showcase. As I sat, a little-ole dorky, quirky seamstress in my sewing room while my kiddos napped, I realized that maybe I was on to something. But against the advice of many friends and even my husband, I turned them all down, with the exception of the magazine. For now, I am comfortable being that itty-bitty seamstress. Afraid of failure? Definitely. Afraid of letting go of the controls? You bet your ass. Afraid of success? Almost more than failure. One day I will figure out what in the world I want to do with brownie-goose. But today just isn't that day. But with that said...I am in dire need of help. Maybe in 2012 I can figure it all out...but I will never forget the words of a fellow designer when he said, "Hardly just a seamstress Amy. You are a fashion designer! An incredibly and insanely talented one at that!" Mitchell, I swear I don't know if you will ever know what that meant to me. It is on that note that makes me want to strive and push forward, but I can also smile and know that if I quit it all today...I'd be one happy seamstress, ahem fashion designer. :)

Byron got a job. A real job. For those of you that have stood beside your husband through medical school and residency, you know how big this is. It is the light at the end of a very long, hard tunnel. The amount of pride I feel cannot even begin to be described. This man never, ever ceases to amaze me.

Sadly enough, for my perfectionist self, I learned that I am not the perfect mom, wife or friend. Hard act to swallow. But I realized it was okay. Instead of losing myself in the search for that perfect trio, I found instead how to work at being the best mom, wife and friend that my husband, kiddos and friends want me to be. I also learned that sometimes being a good mom makes you a bad friend. Sometimes being a good friend makes you a bad wife, etc. It is all about balance while keeping yourself in line. Still haven't worked out the kinks yet. :)

I think this will be on the year in review every year. But, I learned that a clean house is over-rated and makes me a bad mom. And this is the one time when the paragraph above is null and void. In this case, when I am a bad mom because I have a clean house, I am also a bad wife and friend. This will get interesting in the next few months with the house on the market. We shall see...or you should just come on over and buy my house. I mean, it is perfect for you. Promise.

I always like to sit down at the end of one year and beginning of another to take time to look back and figure out what I want to continue and what I want to change about my life. Last year, I decided to slow down and just start letting things go. Now, coming from an OCD, Type-A control freak...I knew that it wouldn't happen overnight. However, I am very pleased to say that I think I did a very good job of looking it in the face and tackling my demons head on. I am not a Type B convert just yet (haha) but I have let a lot of things go, and you know what...it feels good. Damn good to be honest.

So this year, I will continue on that path of working on letting it all go. Letting go and letting happen is what 2012 and the following years will be about. Letting go of all the things on my to-do list (well, some of them at least) while I let life happen. What is really important to me at the end of the day? Did I let that happen, or did I fail to let go? Once again, this will not happen overnight but hopefully in a year when I sit down to reflect I can smile and be proud in knowing that while in the car on my life journey, I got out of the driver's seat and into the passenger seat. Then, I put down my blackberry and said to hell with it all and climbed into the backseat and enjoyed the view. And when I had the urge to put my foot on the imaginary brakes or shout to the driver to speed up, I looked to one side and saw my precious kiddos smiling at me and then to the other side to see my amazingly supportive husband holding my hand through it all and instead, I just was. I let go. I let the driver continue on His way and sat back and enjoyed the view.

With that said...2012 is going to be a wild ride. We have a house to sell, we have a move that includes packing up my family (trying to avoid the panic attack the comes with the thought of packing), my husband starts a new job...a REAL job, we have an entire house to renovate (and I giggle here because yes, we bought a house. I have been mum about it and will be for a little while more, but lesson learned...never say never. We have another full-fledged renovation ahead of us, this one being the most involved of any we have ever done), I have a little girl that will be starting kindergarten, a little boy that will be old enough to go and make friends and play at a mother's morning out, a new life to start and new friends to make while missing the snot out of the amazing ones I am leaving in Jackson, a town to learn, etc. Usually, all this would send my heart racing in a panic and anxiety would set in. But other than packing, I have no anxiety. Just pure and utter joy. I cannot wait.

Are you on for the ride? If so, I must say you can either have the passenger seat or the back-back...the backseat is taken. :)

Wally World

2011-12-30T14:32:00.003-06:00

For anyone that knows me, you know that I pretty much do anything in my power to stay out of Wal-Mart. I would say I hate the place, but I can hear my parent's mocking voices in my head saying, "Amy, hate is a very strong word." Yes it is, and I hate Wal-Mart.

I go maybe twice a year, if I have to. You can find me in Target maybe 2 or 3 times a week with a smile from ear to ear, but Wal-Mart, ugh. I cannot put my finger on it exactly why I cannot stand the place, but I just cannot.

Anyways, I went today. I was on the other side of town from a Target and I really, really needed an ink cartridge for my printer since I am on the verge of needing to squish an octopus into my printer to get it working again. The last 4 times I have been in Target I have forgotten. Chaps my rear. So, today I go thinking it wont be bad I will grab a cartridge and be in and out.

Did I mention I had both kids with me? I mean, I almost need not mention since they are attached to me 95% of the time. Just walking through the doors made my skin crawl and I was just waiting to find some of the gems that are "The People of Wal-Mart."

Well, as I walked from the store to my car after a purchase of an ink cartridge (that was only $2 cheaper than at Target...those $2 are well worth my sanity) I was reminded of why I don't go to Wal-Mart. Let me share.

The first incident. We are walking down the aisle trying to find the printer section and there is a Spanish-speaking family on the next aisle over with just about the most precious little girl I have ever seen. Well, I immediately started to flirt with her and so did Nash and oh my, I could have eaten her she was so stinking cute. I told the mother how adorable she was and the mom beamed and we were just about to walk away when the father spoke to the mother in Spanish and Louisa perked up and said to him, "Ooooooooooohhh! I didn't know you can speak Dora too!"
And let's carry on to those ink cartridges real quick-like.

The second incident. After I found my cartridge and began my journey back to the check-out lines in the front of the store we walked by a girl that I kid you not had a rainbow in her hair of hair dye. I was actually quite amazed at how vibrant the colors were. And as we walked by I tried to divert Lou's attention but the flashing fuchsia caught this pink-loving girl's eye and she said it. In her non-inside-Louisa voice. "Oooooohhhh MOMMY! Look at that girl! She looks like a My Little Pony!" Que the theme song...

And the third incident. I was almost clear. Standing in the check-out line the lady in front of us had a tattoo on the side of her face that reached all the way into her ear. I eyed it thinking, 'holy smacks I bet that hurt like crap.' I didn't think twice about Louisa since she was busy checking out all the goodies that Wal-Mart so lovingly places in the check out aisles. Phoebe, you KNOW there was one of those stoooopid dolls there. Ugh. Anyways, Nash was all turned around sideways in the buggy looking at the lady in front of us and just grinning and cooing like his sweet self does until Louisa tells him in her whispering voice (which I assure you is not a whisper), "Nash, stop staring! That lady can't help that she has that on her face. You might hurt her feelings!" And while a small part of me wanted to be proud that it was evident that she had listened to me in the past tell her that sometimes people cannot help their appearances, the other part of me wanted to hit the floor. And then that lady turned to me with a look that said, "I will cut you." And while I wanted to inform her that this chicken had a shiv, I instead apologized for my child and made sure there was a large distance between us in the parking lot in case she indeed was packing a shiv.

Now, any of these 3 incidents could have occurred at any store. I get that. But, Wal-Mart has a way of bringing out the worst in me and my children. So, I will steer clear of the Wally World again in the future and instead spend more money at Target. Geesh.

Speaking of hooligan children...

Nash is newly obsessed with pulling himself up on the side of his crib. In fact, right now...during nap time he is in there standing up on the side and screaming since when he stands up he gets all proud and he giggles and loses his paci over the side. So this is nap time number 4 that he has not napped since he is newly obsessed with standing. Oy. But how irresistible are those legs?

I promise there is a Christmas blog coming soon. I asked Santa for a few more hours in the day but apparently I was on the naughty list since I didn't get that. Oh well...

'Tis the Season!

2011-12-24T11:00:00.002-06:00

from our house to yours...

Down on the Bayous

2011-12-20T17:34:00.011-06:00

There is something very enchanting about the bayous of Louisiana. Or at least, I think so. I remember the first time I ever visited Louisiana. I had been dating Byron for a few months and was invited on the annual summer trip to Louisiana to visit his family. I had never been before and was a little nervous, but felt excited when to my surprise all of his family talked about 'how much fun' it was to go to the bayous. No one could pin-point one single thing that made it so much fun, but everyone raved about how it was by far the best trip of the year.

If you have never before been, no worries. I will make it fabulous for you. Byron's mom grew up outside of Baton Rouge in the country and right along one of the bayous. Once you get over the slight (okay, major) panic attack and hypertension due to crossing over the mighty Mississippi on a huge bridge that also happens to be an interstate (you couldn't stage a nightmare for me better if you tried) the land stretches out before you flat as can be and sugarcane as far as the eye can see. It really is like a whole other world. And it is. I still giggle to this day because I cannot for the life of me understand a word that comes out of these bayou-dwelling-people's mouths. Nor can I wrap my head around the phonics and how spelling and pronunciation is far from what I learned in the Low Country. However, I cannot think of a more friendly, welcoming group of people if I tried. There are no strangers there. And the driveway at the Jones house is a swinging door of visitors that come with a smile on their face and a story that no doubt will have us all doubling over giggling later. But the best part, it is about as laid back as it comes. It is the most fun. When you go to Plaquemine, you eat, rest, visit and enjoy the scenery and then eat some more. And when you pull in the driveway of Byron's Aunt & Uncle's house...this is what lies before you.

It takes my breath away each and every time and I can only imagine Aunt Janice's joy looking at this every single day from her kitchen window. One of my favorite things to do when we visit is to go out on the 4-wheelers, golf carts, rhinos, whatever the vehicle seems to be to drive along the crawfish ponds that are on the back of the property. The first time I ever ventured back I was SCARED TO DEATH that I would encounter an alligator. Byron's instigation wasn't helping matters much. It just looked like a place an alligator would love. Swampy-looking-dark-still waters with cypress trees growing in the middle and other mangled trees just hanging and lurking on the water's edge. I mean, I straight up had x-ray vision and saw all the gators and pit vipers hanging out waiting to get me. But instead, I was only attacked by some mud and cow pie's from the pasture flying up from the wheels of the 4-wheeler. Not too bad, considering the alternatives. This year it was quite humorous. Somehow, we drew the short stick. You see, there were 3 ATV-type vehicles that were going to tour the crawfish ponds. There was a super nice Polaris that costs more than my SUV, a rhino-sort of powerful looking vehicle and an old golf cart. Guess which one we got stuck on? Yep, it was me, Byron, baby Nash, Claudia and three kiddos all on the jalopy of a golf cart. We giggled as we fish-tailed along the trails and got beaten by trees and sticks along the way that we were like the old parents on the school bus while the other 'cool kids' were on the other vehicles. It even started to growl at us by the end of the trip. It was actually funny - and no matter the mode of transportation...the scenery was just as beautiful. No alligators, no pit vipers. Just gorgeous swampland. And whatever it was that was growling at us from the bottom of the golf cart.

I actually stole this picture from Clark's facebook account. However, I find it completely legal since I was tagged. Byron had escaped for the photo-op. I think he was scared of the growling.

Other than the rides along the crawfish ponds, there is a lot of playing outside and just being kids. No matter the age. And you know, everything is better when there is a K-9 involved.

I especially love these pics of the kiddos (the 2 babes were being held and spoiled at the time) and Cash, the blue heeler. Makes me giggle.

So, all in all...to be honest - I cannot for the life of me come up with just one reason why the trip to Louisiana is so much fun either. Now I know. Now, I get it. I think overall it is just a whole other world. And that whole other world is nice for a few days. Sometimes I think everyone needs a few days to slow down, enjoy the scenery, smell the burning sugarcane and get their creole on.

Laissez les bons temps rouler!

All in a Day's Work

2011-12-08T09:56:00.006-06:00

So, we have officially left the "Velcro Stage" of infancy. Crap. This is the stage that I refer to when your baby stays where you put him down. Maybe a little roll or two, but usually if you walk away you can guarantee that said babe will still be where you placed him. Not anymore. Nash has finally picked up on the whole crawling thing (my kiddos are late bloomers when it comes to being mobile, which is quite okay with me...in fact, I kind of discourage the whole mobility thing). Now he is not quite into everything yet...but it is coming. I feel it.

Take for instance the 5-7 minutes yesterday in which I attempted to make lunch. Yes, I had my camera ready so that may have added a little time on to it, but I knew one day when my sweet baby Nash was all big and not wanting to hang out with me I would want these pics. This is how it all went down. PS - please note how the brown dog and baby boy already seem to be partners in crime. Oh, that should make me nervous, but instead it just makes me super happy!

Okay, I placed baby Nash on his play mat in the den and walked into the kitchen to make lunch. I watched through the big opening from the kitchen to the den (it really is a great feature, it should make you want to buy my house, seriously) as he crawled his way to the kitchen to find me. Well, he got side-tracked, at the ever popular dog bowl. Check out the look of "Oops, I was caught." And excuse any out of focusness that occurs, this child is getting more difficult to photograph.

So, I sat him down on the floor in the breakfast room (which by the way I think I may rename the rotunda, it just sounds all special-like and might make people want to buy my house more) with a little toy and got back to my mad sandwich making skills. That is, until the temptation of the dog's water bowl called a certain little bald baby. You see this face? This is after I told him no a few times.

And then, I get back to my sandwich artist self with my back turned and then hear the water. Little cracker.

And so, I get him up, dry off his hands and place him on the other side of the kitchen with some bowls and a spoon to play. Well, this is where Mallard comes to be a bad influence on my sweetness. The brown dog decides it is a fine time to drink water. Well, that is just too much for little Nash man and here he goes...towards the water bowl again.

I absolutely adore that pic of him in the bowl with Mallard right there. Stick Byron's face in there somewhere and we have my fave boys all in one pic. Well, after I got him out and dried him off again, I put him in front of the refrigerator to play with magnets thinking he needed something more fun.

But honestly, what is more fun than the water bowl because before I could even set down the camera to get back to my turkey and cheese...here he comes again.

And busted...oh snap.

Wondering about this little face?

Believe it or not (knock on some SERIOUS wood) she has been fairly well behaved lately and no Louisa-worthy stories to tell. Can you even believe it? I hardly can. I will have to say though that I got a good giggle from this when I walked into her room the other day. She may not look like me, but the child does have some of my tendencies.

Don't get it? Perhaps a closer pic will give you a clue.

Or maybe a picture of MY tree will help.

I mean, WHO puts ornaments on the Christmas tree anyways? Hahahaha. That's my girl!

And just a few from bath time last night. The cheeks, the Alfalfa-sprout hair and those eyebrows. Oh dear this boy is the end of me!

Father Time

2011-12-04T22:23:00.003-06:00

WARNING: long and random post with NO proof-reading...

Ohhhhhhh Father Time.....where are you?

I mean seriously. Where the hell is the time going? This post will be stamped either December 4 or 5th, depending on how wordy I am late tonight. WHEN did that happen? And where have I been? Sigh. Here I am all un-knowingly the mother of a 4.5 year old girl that knows it all and an almost 10 month old (that in itself makes me feel the need to cry) that is now crawling, trying to stand up, breaking through more teeth and eating real people food. Once again, WHERE have I been?

Well, one answer is probably in my sewing room. And as much as I love brownie-goose, I will admit it is sort of the black sheep for me right now. I struggle daily, hourly to be honest with what in the world to do with this black sheep. It robs me of so much of my free time, but I cannot let it go. It has evolved from something that I did for fun and to give some pocket money when I quit my real job to something that I need to pay for Louisa's school and gymnastics. There are moments when I say, "okay Amy. Once you pay off Lou's tuition through May for both school and gymnastics...quit it all. Just quit while you are ahead." And I feel all happy and free like. I mean, I know what I am doing. And then, I get all sad and sentimental. And I think, "Why quit now? You've come so far." And I just don't know what in the world to do. But I do know for sure it is taking up WAY more time than I would like for it to. With that said, I am so stinking proud of it all that I can hardly stand not to tinkle my pants. Just recently I was asked to send some items from my collection (I am still in awe that the stylist/designer called it my collection, like it is real!) for a magazine photo shoot and at the end of the day, MY DRESS made the cover. I mean, holy moles. You can read more about it here if you really feel the need. I just wish that sometime someone would just appear and say, "Amy, this is what you need to do with BG. This is where you need to go with it." And that way I think I would let my guard down and realize that it was okay to go either way. I am one of those crazy Type A's that doesn't want to admit defeat but at the same time thinks failure is like the boogey man. Ugh. Okay, enough about all of that...for I swear I had a purpose when I sat down to blog.

Speaking of black sheep and time, as I drove down my street today I realized I was the only one left with pumpkins and corn stalks on my front porch. And this made me say bad words. You see, after you decorate with pumpkins...you decorate for Christmas - which if you remember from last year (if you don't, please read this post...I highly recommend, it tells a LOT about my character) I can.not.stand. Gag. But, I decided I would take one for the team and up into the attic I crawled and got down the garland and wreaths all the while complaining and saying bad, bad words. Well, I hung the garland around the door frame like I always do and when I stepped back instead of thinking, "Well...it looks good if I do say so myself" I thought, "Ewww. When did K-Mart come and hang a swag of shiz on my front door frame?" 'Tis the season, right? So, I crawled back up on the ladder and took it all down and informed Byron that I wasn't going to do anything this year and only hang up my door wreath that I have had for eons now. And he got the look that I have learned over the years and said, "Whatever you want, Amy." Now, this sounds all nice but what really is going through his head is, "Okay Byron, just agree. She is having the funk and no matter what you say she will argue with you and it will all turn out very bad in the end so just nod and keep on with what you are doing." And so when he said that, I turned back to the front door and thought, "UGH. NO. By golly my front door will look fab whether I enjoy it or not. (seeing as I realized in the meantime my trusty old wreath had started to fall apart and look even more K-Marty than the garland)" So, with my stubborn head held high I came inside and google imaged "front door wreaths." Of course I feel madly in love with one as my bipolar-like personality tends to do and decided I needed to go right then and there to the craft store because certainly "I can SO make that." That, by the way is my stubborn motto. I for some reason always think I can make what I see. Do you see the destruction my strong personality causes me? So, while I was having this moment of Martha-Stewart-induced genius, I packed up both kids and headed to Michaels on a Sunday afternoon. Yes, you read that correctly and yes, I have lost my mind.

I will save you many of the details of the trip but will summarize and tell you that by the time I got back in my car I had sweat rings under my arms, my pony tail was hanging on by a thread, my cheeks were pink and both kids were crying. I have NO clue what I bought, but know that I will leave it all in the back of my car in the bags and it will go back tomorrow since I am over it by now.

So, you see...this inspiration wreath (which I won't share with you because the crazar in me still might attempt it after a trip to a different craft store and the donkey in me refuses to give away a secret and admit defeat) is like the palm fronds of last year. Oh those damn fronds. I think the actual words were "screw you palm fronds??"

Okay, so off subject. Back to father time.

We recently made a trip to Georgia over the Thanksgiving holiday to spend time between Barnesville, Savannah and Athens. Now, I was super excited about the Athens trip since this was the first time we were going KNOWING we were soon going to be living there. We had appointments set up with the realtor, the banks, a preschool for Nash, Lou's school, etc. It was crazy-exciting. But at the same time I asked myself, "Oh my word. Is this really happening? Are we finally at this point that we have been waiting for for so long?" And the answer strangely was YES. The time has finally come for my brilliant husband to no longer be a student or a resident. This is it. He is about to be in private practice and we are about to be setting down forever roots. It is crazy to think about. It was so exciting to drive around a town that I knew I would be raising my kiddos in. And not to brag too much, but holy smackaroos what an awesome town to do so in! Touring Louisa's school was kind of hard for me. I never thought I was going to be that mom that cried as soon as I dropped my child off for kindergarten, but I can go ahead and say it...I will be bawling. I mean, I got all teary-eyed just walking around with the principal. There was a lunch room and a rotunda and a library and all these things that my little Lou was going to be doing WITHOUT me. Ouch. I am tearing up now just remembering it. But I really am trying to be a big girl for her so that she is excited and not scared. While we were sitting in on a class I watched her look nervously at the students and twirl her hair and bite on her lip. It broke my heart to see her so nervous. And then thankfully later she pulled a typical Louisa to lighten the mood and make me not so sad. This was the conversation.

Me - Lou, what did you think about your new school and the kindergarten class?

Lou - Well, I don't know Mommy. I don't think I am as smart as those kids.

Me - Awe, don't worry Boo, you will be as soon as you start learning.

Lou - Oh, I'm not worried Mommy. I mean, I may not be the smartest but I am the prettiest.

Hehe, that's my girl. Oh, Louisa Kate...

And baby Nash. Be still my sweetness. He has had a rough few months recently. His nickname of sweetness has almost been revoked due to some very ill-tempered behavior. Suicide hour is KILLING us now that the time has changed and we cannot go outside. So basically, from 3pm until bedtime in our house is absolute mayhem to the point that I am almost twitching by the time Byron comes home. Yikes. It hasn't been pretty. But, Nash got tubes on Friday due to rotten ears and I am hoping that it was just painful ears that have been causing the baby Louisa-like behavior. I almost want to say sometimes, "Okay Nash...we get it. You will not be made to be a middle child. Norris party of 4. Mommy cannot handle more without being sent to the nut house so you will not have a baby sibling" but I am so afraid that Murphy will overhear and change my plans and I cannot even think about that right now!

Oh dear, what did I mean to write about anyways? Tonight is one of those nights. I sat down to write, to get it all out. It's been one of those 'overwhelmed by life' days here for me and I just needed a moment to vent and have my online therapy session and it looks as though I have succeeded in writing a very long post with no photos that I don't plan on proofing. Oh yeah, I was talking about time getting away with me. Which makes me think of my blog post around this time last year. I remember talking about slowing down. And you know, I did for a while but then I fell victim to needing to speed again. So maybe I will find that slow-down button again soon and stick with it. I am thinking that 2012 is going to be CRAZY with selling a house, packing a house, moving to a new town, Louisa starting kindergarten, Byron starting a new job, etc. I will need that slow-down button for sure. And maybe a few cases of wine as well. I've thought a lot about unplugging next year. Not completely, but maybe just stepping back from the phone, the texts, the emails, the facebook, etc just a bit. Becoming super-shady which I am very good at. I don't want to miss anymore of what is happening right in front of me. I mean, that is all that really matters, right? Always easier said than done, but maybe?

So, methinks that I have succeeded in writing the most random blog post ever. Awesome work Amy. I also think my bed (and those psychedelic sheets that are still there, I don't if we forgot to ask Santa or if he just has a sense of humor or if he is just super sweet and wants us to wait for a new house to have new, grown-up sheets), the bed warmer and my striped kitty who is probably curled up where my feet belong are calling my name. I just might tell this this stubborn donkey to listen this time. Go to bed Amy.

Sweet dreams. Until next time that I ramble on...

confessions of a blog neglector

2011-11-15T09:38:00.007-06:00

this is brownie thinking, oh where, oh where has the blog lady gone, oh where oh where can she be???

i mean really. i should be ashamed of myself. note to self....never, EVER take this much time off from blogging. geesh. when i take too much time i realize that when i actually sit down to blog there are so many things i want to write about but feel overwhelmed so i just blabber on and on.

ready for blabbering?

let's see...where did i leave off? oh yes, the horrible sickness that blanketed our house the ENTIRE month of october. lawdy it was rough. i cannot tell you how much tylenol and motrin we went through...not to mention antibiotics and all that other hoop-la. thankfully we all recovered and i just now have everyone somewhat on a sleeping schedule again. whew. knock on wood.

and then came halloween. call me a party pooper, but i am just not a fan of halloween. i don't know why - but it could fall off the calendar and i would be just fine. awful, i know. so, it kind of crept up on me as i was busy wiping noses and chasing fevers. i asked lou what she wanted to be and she said a princess, which would have been the 3rd year in a row. so, i was fine with that...we already have a costume - good to go. then, she changed her mind and said she wanted to be hannah montana. not quite sure where that one came from...but i had to nip that one in the bud real quick. not ready for her to grow up just yet. so, she changed her mind again. now, you see - this should have been a sign for me. but in my defense, i was still highly sleep deprived and working off of a few very fatigued brain cells. so she wanted to be a pink cowgirl. i got excited. i googled pink chaps to get some pictures so that i could plan out a costume. word of caution...do NOT google pink chaps with your 4 year old around. don't ask why, just don't do it unless you want to explain why "dat lady forgot her panties mommy!" seriously. once again, remember...very few brain cells. so, i made her a pair of pink chaps with furry cow-skin and pink fringe. i thought they were way cute and i was super proud to be able to make a halloween costume. and she was excited, and cute as can be and looked all pink cowgirly like this (yes, repeat pic but since it has been 6 years i thought you may need a refresher)...

and she wore this to a birthday party with a halloween theme (not without the signature louisa meltdown though, geesh..remember that?). good times. but, when halloween rolled around, she changed her mind again. surprise! i should have known. she picked a witch costume out of her box of dress-up clothes and decided that she wanted to be a witch instead. now, i fought with myself long and hard on this one. do i force the issue of NO MAM i made this costume for you and you are going to wear it? or do i just let it go? i honestly wasn't hurt too much, maybe because deep down i knew that she was going to change her mind??? who knows. what i finally decided on though was to tell her that i was disappointed since she didn't want to wear the costume that i made for her. i thought maybe i needed to keep it fun for her and not make an issue out of it (so that maybe down the road she wont be a halloween party pooper too), but to let her know that i did have my feelings hurt. in response, she just said while placing her hand on my leg and cocking her head to the side, "awww, it's okay momma. you can make me one next year." so...my point was lost.

at least there was no battle with my sweetness (imagine that) and his costume. he got the left-overs from lou's closet and was a little duck. and i cannot even tell you how much i could have eaten this child up in this costume. he refused to smile while in it...but instead started puckering his lips. oh my the cuteness of this fat little baby in a duck costume.

now, check out this one of baby lou in the duck costume (a pic of a pic)...good grief my kiddos look alike!

i thought you may all want some humor in your life before i begin on my monologue about selling a house and a house hunt. the other day i made my way into lou's room for another cleaning before showing the house, and you know how i always seem to giggle in her room. and i will share.

looks as though we may need a sign warning people not to feed the alligators. ouch.

i am wondering if this incident has anything to do with the time that i ran over louisa with the buggy in the grocery store. yikes, is she harboring resentment? eeeks. oh, and lou...if i have told you once, i will tell you a thousand times - do NOT leave your baby and purse unattended!

feed yourself baby! and be careful not to choke on the whole egg or the hot dog. ummkay?

this one made me giggle...royalty driving the mac truck.

i mean, who doesn't have a voodoo doll sitting intheir baby's toilet? you WILL potty train or else, don't cross me sally!

and sweetness, co-sleeping at it's best. :) blue mustache or not.

so, back to house cleaning and selling. we still own our house. crazy. i mean, we don't even have a sign in the yard and haven't marketed it yet. WHY, i ask, hasn't anyone bought it? ugh. but we are going this weekend to house hunt in athens and to say that i am excited is a severe understatement. i mean, right now...i could go and be a realtor in athens. i have it all memorized. crazy. and unless our house sells asap we cannot make a move. which is really, really making me crazy since we all know how i tend to fall head over very easily. this is what i foresee going on:

i walk into the house that i have already decided is my fave, fall in love but cannot buy it. then, someone else buys it and when i finally do move to athens i find i will never be able to like that person living there since i will hold some resentment but cannot control myself from driving by it daily and wondering what it. immature, maybe? but i think if you admit your immaturity it isn't near as bad. okay? so, to avoid any possible resentment and bitter issues (and maybe some stalking charges)...just come and buy our house. i mean, it is a really cool house and if you have been with me from the beginning - you have had a first row seat in the renovations. think of all that time you have vested in it. but just give me like 24 hours heads-up to clean. sound good?

okay, now to bombard with pics over the last 6 years since i have blogged. no captions - only because i have about 30 minutes of nap time left and i still have laundry to fold since my cleaning lady STILL hasn't shown. shame.

except that one...oh dear. i found this one day while he was playing and immediately had a moment of oh my holy goodness wet my pants why is he bleeding from the mouth???!!! until i realized he was chewing the stain off of basket. okay then, phew...carry on.

Vagabond

2011-10-24T08:47:00.004-05:00

I am ready to run away.

I can remember as a teenager telling my parents that I was going to run away. You know those lovely years when you know it all and have it all planned and then parents and rules just kinda get in your way? I can see myself standing in the kitchen of the house that I grew up in yelling that I wanted to run away because my parents were so unfair. And I can specifically remember my Mom saying one of the three sayings I heard so often growing up:

1. Whatever floats your boat Amy...
2. Go ahead, knock yourself out...

and the ever-famous in the Morgan family:

3. Want in one hand and crap in the other and see which one fills up first. (I still don't really understand this one but have heard it over and again growing up. It originated with my great-grandmother Doris who was a feisty little thing, imagine that.)

I never ran away, let's face it - I had no where to go. And I think I knew they were empty threats and obviously my Mom knew as well as you can see by her reactions. But this time is different.

I am ready to pack my bags and go. I don't plan to do anything real exciting when I go, but I do plan to sleep. Maybe for 36-72 hours straight and then when I wake up all rested and restored I will realize that I miss my kiddos more than anything and come back home with a new perspective, new energy and new Amy to face the world again.

You see, we are embarking on week 4 of sickness in our house. We started with fever in our house the first week of October and it has been consistent in either of my two kids ever since. Louisa started first with bronchitis. Then, Nash got Roseola (well, I am assuming as he has yet to break out in a rash...but he ran HIGH fever for 6 days straight) and topped that off with croup. Then right when I was Lysol-ing every surface and getting the germs out and smiling thinking we were over the hump, Lou got whiny and fussy and told me she wanted to go to bed (that never, ever happens) and next thing I know she has a sore throat and is varmiting over everything. And then I smelt it, that lovely strep breath. Ugh, one penicillin shot later and she was better. Meanwhile, Nash stopped sleeping at night and became fussy and whiny and inconsolable. And this morning, he woke up with fever again after night number 3 of sleeplessness.

So, as I am extremely sleep-deprived and just kinda overwhelmed by it all right now I want to run away. I want a break. I quit - I just don't have anymore in me. I want to lay down in my bed at night and sleep until I am ready to wake up the next morning. I want to throw away the schedules of tylenol and motrin and not look at them again. I want my babies to feel better again. I want normal again.

But hey, want in one hand and crap in the other, right?

Grrrrrr...enough complaining. How about something to make me and everyone else smile. What about the adorable-ness of this.

I can't hardly stand it.

But in true Louisa-style, her 'get-up' for Halloween was not without a meltdown.

I had her dressed in her chaps, her boots, her bandana and her hat ready to go to a Halloween birthday party yesterday. As we were walking out the door it started.

"MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMYYYY! I don't want to wear these boots! They make my feet feel funny."

Okay, well Lou...you are a cowgirl - cowgirls wear cowgirl boots.

"But I don't WANT to wear them. They makes my feet feel funny and squishy and I am NOT going to wear them."

Louisa, you are a cowgirl. Your cowgirl boots are kinda pertinent to your costume.

"Well, Mommy I don't know what percanent means, but I am not going to wear them. Otay?"

And with that the pink cowgirl boots (that used to be her faves) were tossed and she donned her red patent leather clogs that live on her feet and I just threw up my hands. Pick your battles my dear. And in a few years, I too will tell her to want in one hand... :)

Ask Me Tomorrow, I'll Tell You the Same

2011-10-17T09:02:00.004-05:00

This has been a rough, rough, rough, rough, rough (okay, you get it) past week and a half. I am very surprised that everyone in this house is still in one piece. Granted, I have half the brain I started with (not good) and am slightly crazier than I started out (once again, not good) but we are all still breathing. And as my trusty mentor Cheryl taught me, as long as everyone is breathing...it is gonna be okay.

This morning, Nash woke up afebrile and smiling. I got at least 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep last night. Louisa went to school. Hopefully, we are back in the everyday grind. I got everyone ready to get out the door, fixed some coffee, rolled down the windows and opened the sunroof and we were off to carpool line jamming to Whiskeytown.

I think I have talked before about music and the way it moves me. I find it very ironic that I love music so much but am not in any way, shape or form musically inclined. I mean, I can carry a tune like it is my business when no one other than my children or animals are around. Sometimes the Indigo Girls have nothing on me. But, to keep others from feeling bad and non-talented and to keep them from being jealous, I try to keep my talents to myself. :) But anyways, music does so much for my soul that it is borderline crazy. One song can do so much. It can make me smile, it can bring me to tears, it can transport me to another time of my life, it can inspire my sewing, it can change my perspective, it can give me chills, it can make me fall in love with my husband all over again...but most of all, it can change my attitude. You see, this morning as we drove to St. James, I blared one of my favorite 'make me happy' tunes and I sang along and I danced and all was right in the world again. And when the song was over, I played it again. As Ryan Adams did his magic with the song Mirror, Mirror...I got that warm, fuzzy feeling that everything is going to be okay. It is a new day, a new week, time to get this party started. And right about that time, an acorn fell off the tree above my car, through my sunroof and onto my head. It hurt. Really, really bad. I thought, "Are you even kidding me??" But before I allowed myself to get my britches in a wad and say bad words, I sang along, "Oooooh I'm tellin' ya now, I'm telling you noooooow." And all was right in the world again. Not gonna let an acorn spoil my day.

You see my friends...yesterday was a bit of a breaking point for me. An attitude adjustment was needed something fierce. The sickness that had taken over my house had slowly taken over me. I was DONE. I was OVER it. I was DONE-SO. Yep, done-so. I told Byron yesterday that I was ready to bang my head against the wall. I was at the point of no return in which if I heard Nash crying in his bed one more time I was afraid I may hurt him when I went in there. Now, before you go calling the authorities or thinking ill of me...I would NEVER, and I repeat NEVER hurt my children. However, I am thankful for a somewhat sound mind that tells me that when I get to that point I need to re-think and refocus. But, at that point in time, the point of no return is real. It happens. When your sanity is stretched to the very end, you get there. I remember hitting that point so many times when Louisa was a baby as she would scream all.day.long. I would put her down and walk outside and scream and cry until I had refocused that energy. I wondered when I had become this person that lost it so easily. I think that is called motherhood. It isn't easy, folks. In fact, it is quite possibly the hardest thing I have faced yet.

So, on that note...thank you Ryan Adams. My husband may not like you at all, but I cannot thank you enough. A change of attitude, a smile, a fun morning jam-session in the carpool line...acorn and all. With that, I realized that we are on the mend. Things are returning to normal here at the Norris house.

You see, Louisa is already back to pouting and giving me the stink eye bright and early in the morning because I didn't do her 'brains' (braids) right.

Nash is back to escaping the bouncy seat and that laundry sheet that always happens to be on the floor in photos is still there.

I am back to rescuing reptiles from the jaws of my striped kitty and the tumbleweeds of animal fur.

The striped kitty is back to napping on the pillows she knows good and well she isn't supposed to be on.

Lucy is back to watching and waiting for the mail man,

and my brown doggy is up in my green chair barking at the wind.

Back to normal people, or as close to normal as we get here. I'm telling you now...it's bound to make you smile. :)

Momma Louisa

2011-10-13T10:30:00.006-05:00

Holy moles...if I thought I was S.T. in the last post, I don't even have words for now. It has been a week. I mean, a rough one. I don't know if I have ever chased fevers like I have this past week. Not even when working at Chirrens Hospital. Oh my word.

I said it this morning on Facebook, with 2 hours of sleep under my belt today I am officially STOOOOOPID. I should not be allowed to make decisions, operate machinery, drive or visit Etsy. The brain is in slow-mo. In fact, this morning when I woke and was making myself some coffee and Nash a bottle, I poured his formula into my coffee without even blinking and put it in the microwave. It wasn't when I pulled it out to drink that I noticed it, not even when I put it to my mouth. I even took 2 sips without it phasing me. However, it was when I went to put a clear bottle in the microwave (yes, I microwave my bottles) that I wondered, "Wait...where the hell did the formula go?" Oh yeah.

Wow.

Anyways, last night was a rough one with baby Nash. Lou is finally on the mend and feels great other than having cabin fever. Now Nash is the one with fevers. I know for sure I have blogged before about how I hate a fever. I really do. Every time I say the word 'hate' I hear 2 things. The first being my Mom saying, "Amy, hate is a very strong word and you should not use it" and then I hear Louisa screaming, "You can't say that!!!" (since she thinks hate is a 4 letter word). Well, I respect both of those opinions...but I still HATE a fever. I am very scared of them. I remember one day working at Chirrens Hospital and having a Mom call me and tell me she thought her little boy had fever again. Since he was admitted for febrile seizures, I made sure to head down there. I took the thermometer off the wall and placed it under his arm (yeah, not so accurate...but she didn't want a rectal) and watched as the numbers rose. When it continued past 104.6, I started to freak out mildly. I tried my best to stay calm as I couldn't even watch it raise anymore because I was about to varmit on the floor and told the mom, "Let me go grab him some medicine." I walked out of the room in a slight panic, and soon as the door shut I RAN to find my trusty Cheryl and quickly fell apart and wondered if there was any way possible I could push some Ibuprofen into his IV. And then the seizure came. I think this episode is what spawned my fear of fevers.

Anywhoo...my kitchen counter looks like this

and has for a week now. And my bathroom trash can looks like this.

Why Lou chooses to place her tissues on the floor beside the trash is beyond me. But I guess one day I will clean it up. Just not today. Oh, and the back of one of our bills looks like this.

So, as I am S.T. Rugglin' to function today I walked into Louisa's room to open her curtains and found some humor. It may not be funny at all, only to me who is slightly deranged and demented thanks to deprivation. But, thought I would share anyways.

Take a look into what might be when Louisa is a momma.

Looks as though the apple doesn't fall far, her kitchen is a mess too.

And this poor baby, asleep on the ironing board and being held in place by a hat. Or maybe her eyes are covered since they don't close? Oh the imagination of a 4 year old.

Need I mention this child? Fat, happy and about to fall out of the highchair.

Should I mention to her now that you shouldn't leave your baby and your purse unattended at the grocery?

But this one takes the cake. Momma Dog is dressed and ready to go. I was wondering where those shoes were.

Think I could give Momma Dog my grocery list? Or better yet, can I trust Louisa to babysit while I try to catch up on some zzzzz's?

Hehe. Maybe I should have should change the afore-mentioned Facebook status to:

"I said it this morning on Facebook, with 2 hours of sleep under my belt today I am officially STOOOOOPID. I should not be allowed to make decisions, operate machinery, drive, blog or visit Etsy."

Not Intended for Children Under 4

2011-10-08T19:34:00.003-05:00

Mommy Brain

Ever heard of it? Or do you in fact have it? Urban Dictionary defines it as:

The phenomenon known to mothers where their brains become useless piles of goo after being around their children for too long.

Well...sign me up over here. My poor brain is just S.T. all the time. (By the way, S.T. is short for S.T. Rugglin') I sometimes wonder if people think I am just absent-minded, ditsy, blond or just plain stoooopid sometimes.

I mean, I am not. Promise. I consider myself a smart girl. I made really good grades all through school and graduated salutatorian. But nowadays, I am pitiful. Straight up S.T.

For example - tonight. Poor Lou is not feeling well. She keeps getting plagued by a fever that comes and goes as it pleases. Soon as I think she is better, those poor cheeks are bright red and the babe is burning up again. The cough has set in too and is keeping her up at night, which in turn is keeping us all up at night (which may explain some of the brain issues). Bless it.

So, Nash and I decided to make the trip to the drug store to get Lou some cough medicine since gone are the days of shopping in the sample closet at the pediatric clinic. Sigh. Also, we had kinda been booted out of the house since we were failing to maintain quiet during the football game. Anyhoo, we get to CVS and I knew exactly what I wanted so I walked straight over there and picked it up. I grimaced at the price, so I also picked up the CVS brand and turned them over backwards to compare ingredients and was trying to focus and pay attention despite the noises coming from a certain 7 month old loud enough for the world to hear. Then I read the words "not intended for children under 4."

And this is how the thought process went.

"Well crap. I just gave this to her last night. Wait, I know that she can have this. Hmmm, I think it used to just say not intended for under 2, did they change it? Oh wait, I bet with all the new rules and hoop-la about all the cough meds that they had to up the age to 4. This is fine, right? I mean...I used to recommend this to moms. Shoot."

And this went on for about 10 minutes while I allowed my squealing 7 month old to eat my keys while sitting on the floor. Need I mention my pony tail that had half fallen out of the rubber band, the bobby pins holding up the remains of the front of my hair that didn't make the rubber band list, the flip-flops thrown on with my uniform of gym shorts and an old t-shirt that also happens to now have carrots and green beans on one of the shoulders. If I could have seen myself I bet my brows were furrowed and my ears were red. I also may have wondered if I am ever embarrassed at how I go in public.

But, I checked out anyways and soon as I got to the car I texted my trusty friend that still works as a peds nurse. And this is what it said, "I can give Lou Delsym right? She is about 27# isn't it 1/2 tsp?" And she texts me back saying yes that I can. Okay, phew. I thought so, I am not totally crazy. Then, I texted her saying, "Thanks. I got all freaked out because it says not under 4. Haha." And SOON as I hit send it hit me.

HOLY CRAP. My child is 4. AND a half. Oh my gosh. WHEN did this happen? I mean, I know that she is in pre-K and starts kindergarten next year and just had her 4th birthday...but in my mind she is still 2. Not 4 and a half and certainly not old enough for cough meds. Laws. I ask again, WHEN did this happen?

Was it possibly in the time that I sat in the cough and cold aisle at CVS wondering if I could still give my child a medicine since she was under 4? Geesh.

It is a wonder that at the end of the day everyone is still breathing. I swanny, I used to be really smart. Makes me wonder...have I ever had a blunder like that that I totally didn't pick up on?

Scary.

What Baseboards?

2011-10-03T15:04:00.004-05:00

So, I am just gonna go ahead and throw it out there. A cleaning lady is worth every.single.penny that you pay her.

I mean, I think she is. I have never been blessed with the luxury of being able to pay someone else to clean my house, and honestly...I don't even know what they cost. But, after spending the last 3.5 hours cleaning baseboards, tubs, toilets, moldings, ceiling fans, floors, etc. I am O-V-E-R cleaning my house. And the worst part, I am only half-way done. Ugh.

However, I will have to say that I was glad that I moved one of the sofas to see this poor, pitiful "mango" (that is what Lou calls flamingos) that looks as if he has a broken rope-leg trying so hard to get that popcorn morsel that has probably petrified itself under the sofa.

I mean, he could have choked on that thing! Phew.

And you know what...usually it doesn't matter. I have quickly let go of the need for my house to appear as though no one lives in it. Good thing too since it appears VERY much so lived in. I mean, it is my house. This is where we LIVE. It is gonna be messy. But, pretty soon that will not be okay. Pretty soon, this will appear in our front yard.

And once it does - my house will need to stay forever clean.

That single fact above puts me into the need to have a panic attack. The last time I lived in a house that was on the market, it was fine. I only had 1700 square feet, 2 dogs and a cat to worry about. I now have 2400 square feet, 2 dogs, 1 cat, 2 kids and a home-based 'business' to boot. Holy junks. Are you having heart flutters yet? Because I am.

For instance...today alone I have spent 3.5 hours cleaning and I couldn't show it like it is. So, what in the WORLD am I going to do when the time comes?

Never fear, I have come up with 3 options to ponder. Here we go...

Option #1 - sell the house before it hits the market. This is my option of choice. You see, this really is the better option out there. There will be no competition for anyone so no one will be out there driving up the costs (I am secretly giggling as well all know how pitiful the market it). Then I don't have to worry about keeping the house show-ready, dealing with phone calls, trying to photograph it, etc. Oh, and I might even throw in some brownie-goose if that seals the deal. Hehe. Not kidding here, people...

Option #2 - save up some of my brownie-goose money to hire a maid during the time in which the house is on the market. This will allow me some basic help and 'baseline' cleaning to keep it show-ready? I mean, right?? And this option makes me laugh since I fear that I am the sort of person to clean before the maid comes. And in all actuality, I am a house-wife. Isn't that my job anyways? Why do I have such a hard time finding the time to do it?

Option #3 - find a place to live while the house is on the market so that it stays clean. Wow, what a fab idea! I wonder which is cheaper...Option 2 or Option 3. Hmmmm...

Well, at least I have options, right? :) With that said, my maid is being extremely verbally abusive right now and holler obscenities (can you even imagine? the nerve...) about the need to get my booty up from the computer to finish what I started before my husband comes home to find not one, but THREE vacuums in the middle of the floor (his biggest pet peeve). Also, it is about time to stop getting stink-eye from a certain striped kitty who has almost buckled herself into a car seat in the middle of the living room floor (you see what I am working with here?) from her fear of one of the 3 vacuums.

So, are you ready to present me a contract?

Yellow Light

2011-09-30T21:41:00.013-05:00

This Momma right here is in dire need of a yellow light. Not a red, and certainly not a green...but a yellow. Meaning, I need to sloooow down. I feel lately that I am spinning and spinning and spinning and days are passing by and I just am sort of floating in this space of feeding kids, bathing kids, taking them to some sort of sporting event, sewing, emailing, website work, etc. and I honestly am not sure how I am managing to put one foot in front of the other to keep on. I am very surprised that everyone is still breathing. It has just been a little nuts. I mean, if you aren't this sweet face...(oh and I simply cannot talk about how grown-up she looks here)

or this one...

or even this...

I haven't had time for you lately. And I am very ashamed of that. I will have to say that brownie-goose, although a large time-consumer hasn't eaten me up like it used to. Thankfully I found a balance and am good there...but with this last week with the first upload of my new line it has been kinda nutso with all that goes into it. I am super proud of it and am amazingly humbled at how fast it all went. Funny how 5 weeks in the sewing room was gone in 5 minutes. :) Kinda makes me blush. Well, either that or it is the wine.

But in reality, it is crazy how you can get so wrapped up in daily life. And I kinda laugh at my own self here, because this is just the beginning. If I think the schedules are crazy now, what about when they are both in school and both playing sports or participating in other events. I mean, the day is coming when I will be living in my car going from place to place to place. And let's just hope by then I will have figured out one that is big enough to not only lug all of our crap around but also large enough to where all that crap stays out of my line of sight so that my OCD doesn't make me twitch. At least I know if I ever get hungry I am sure to find a small meal on the floorboard in the backseat. Geesh.

But really...back to the yellow light. I am ready for a slow down. I want to drink my coffee in the morning not feeling rushed. I want to eat lunch leisurely and not while answering emails. I want to lay on the couch and snuggle with my brown dog. I want to hug my husband for the whole 5 minutes a day that I see him. I want to tell my kids to stop growing up. I want to sit in my green chair in the living room with a good book and a large glass of wine. Why is this whole "running of the household" so difficult? I swanny I have no clue how people with more than 2 kids function. In the evening, by the time all kids are bathed, all mouths are fed and all are in the bed...it is all I can do to pick myself up and put myself in the bed. Forget the sewing room, forget the book and wine, and sadly forget that hug from the handsome hubby. It just gets wild. I promise I am not bitching or griping here, just a vent-board. I just don't know how some people do it. Oh...and let's not EVEN go there with house cleaning. Mine is F-O-U-L right about now. Bad, bad.

I will have to be honest though...at the end of the day, what I was just talking about earlier when I finally lay my own self down to bed and close my eyes and thank Jesus for everything that I have...I feel high as a kite. Before you write me off as a lunatic, think about it. No matter how good/bad/otherwise the day was, how wonderful is it for me to have the option of staying home with those two ADORABLE kiddos that melt my heart just as often as they drive me nutty. Doing something to bring out Lou's belly giggle or just looking at Nash and watching his smile start in his eyes...I cannot even begin to describe that feeling. It is like crack. And that, my dear mothers...is why we do what we do. It is why we drive and drive and drive through all those green lights, avoiding the reds and yearning for the yellows. That glimpse of a smile or the humor in that giggle. We need it. It keeps us going.

So before I go on and on about how crazy but wonderful life is, let me just give you a peak into ours for the last few weeks. I would say that I may shade out for a few to find that yellow light...but I think we all know better. I am a very shady lady anyways, and we all know I tend to shade out from the blog recently. :)

So, I wrote a few posts ago about how Nash likes to escape his bouncy seat. We are still enjoying this phase and yes, I did say enjoying. It absolutely cracks me up to walk into the den to find him smiling ear to ear somewhere on the floor. Or, as I did this time...

about to be there. When I caught him this time, he got soooo tickled and giggled and squealed until he eventually wiggled himself down to the ground completely. This child melts the snot out of me.

A few weekends ago I traipsed up in the attic and got down the super attractive foam floor mats and all the baby toys to set up a play area for Nash. I think Louisa was the most excited. Well, her and Murray. The cat LOVES to lay on the play mat. And she could care less if Nash is on there too. Well, Nash just so happens to love Murray and loves to touch her fur, pull her feet and chew on her tail. One would think Murr would get up and get on...but no, she doesn't. Instead...she sits there, pissed off at the world with horizontal kitty ears. I love it.

Louisa started playing soccer this fall, and let me just tell you...I never thought a sport could be cute, but oh my word. I could eat this child on the soccer field.

ESPECIALLY when she starts to play like her Momma. :) Yep, here comes the pouting.

PS - I heart that picture of her. :) And this is how baby Nash does soccer. Hehe.

Nash has now moved up in the world and eats in his high chair. He thinks he is big stuff and it makes me laugh. His personality is starting to come out and believe it or not, the child is even more irresistible. He is definitely more laid back than anyone in the family (except sweet Lucille) but methinks he is going to have a wild, silly streak. Well, I can all but eat him and his little triangle fingers chasing puffs around the high chair.

And we cannot forget Brownie, the built-in wet vac.

And my dear Lucille.

My calm, gentle giant. She is having surgery on Tuesday to have this massive growth taken off her right eyelid so say some doggie prayers for her during her surgery. We are taking the dogs on Sunday to Blessing of the Pets, and I always giggle that Mallard needs a confessional. Haaaa.

When taking pics off the camera, I just couldn't resist the kitty whiskers and a kitty all snuggled up in a blanket. Had I known where the yellow light was, I may have joined her. But I am sure at the moment I had fire in my britches and had to move on to the next task at hand.

And now it is getting late and I am sleepy but must head to the sewing room to try and come up with something for my chirrens to wear for photos tomorrow. What is it they say about the shoe-maker's kids having shoes? So, I will just throw the rest of these pics in.

Until next time my peeps...

It Takes a Village

2011-09-15T13:55:00.005-05:00

Lately, Louisa's newest fun thing to do is thrown an all-out cry-fest-meltdown in which she slowly puts me on a guilt trip. It really isn't cool and I actually was in tears the other day because she had hurt my feelings so bad. But, honestly...what do you do?

Anyways, one of her guilt trip fusses was about how I "neber play princess with her." So, yesterday we played princess. How does one go about that...well, just look.

This, let me just assure you is not a mess. In fact, please don't refer to it that way in front of her because one of those afore-mentioned meltdowns is sure to come if you do. It is, in fact...a "Princess Billage." Yes, a billage...not a village. You see, Louisa still pronounces a lot of her v's as b's and I don't correct her. I know, I am quite possibly a speech therapist's worst nightmare, but it is just too stinking cute and she has the rest of her life to say things like village and seven and over and never, etc. I much prefer billage, seben, ober, neber and my fave....fabrite.

Anyways, as I laid on the hardwoods and was told how to play (I am still clueless) I made some observations. I will share.

First off, the 'farm' is apparently where naked barbies go to lay face down.

I can only imagine the beautiful 'princess dreams' this poor princess is having in this 'bed.' Yikes.

Oh dear purple McDonald's Barbie...don't jump. Just don't do it.

Is there a reason the prince is sleeping with a magic wand? Hmmmmm, I wish to be more handsome and popular when I awaken from my royal slumber. Hehe.

This poor girl has been ostracized by the town. Wonder what she did....

I am not quite sure what is going on here in this house. Scary-old-looking-McDonald's toy girl is in the hot tub on the roof while there is frog in the pool....oh, and it looks like poor twin of McDonald's purple Barbie is thinking of jumping as well. Oh dear me.

Mirror, mirror on the wall...

The Princess Billage...where drunken-falling-off-her-seat pink McDonald's Barbie dines by candlelight with a woolly mammoth.

Are you as tickled as I was? I mean, had I known playing princess was this much fun I would have joined in long ago! :) Oh and it was while playing princess that we had this conversation that still has me giggling.

L - Mommy, so & so (I will protect the girl by not mentioning her name) pushed me down at school today. (On a side note...we have had 'issues' with this girl for a while, and at least once a week she comes home to talk about something she did)

A - Oh no Lou, I bet she didn't mean to. I bet it was an accident. Did the teachers see?

L - It wasn't an accident. The teachers didn't see, but God did. And, he is best friends wif Santa Claus, so she is in trooooouble.

A - (trying my hardest to not laugh as hard as I can) Oh dear Lou. Well, I am sorry she knocked you down.

L - It's okay Mommy. I mean, I needs to stay away from her anyways since I am allergnic to her.

At this...I just grinned and carried on saving the lives of the poor, pitiful purple McDonald's barbies who were feeling the need to jump.

My Little Jay Bird

2011-09-09T12:46:00.003-05:00

The Birthday Suit

We all know what it is...and some of us love it more than others. However, I am not sure anyone I know loves the birthday suit more than my sweet Baby Nash. My little jay bird. The child loves nothing more than to be naked. Bless it. Boys will be boys...

He figured out a few weeks ago how to take off his diaper, and since he usually just wears a diaper while we are at home...once the diaper is gone, he is happy. He has even figured out how to unsnap a onesie and get to his diaper from there. Wow.

Thankfully, he has yet to figure out how to get out of a diaper that snaps...so I have been keeping him in just the Fuzzibunz and BumGenius dipes that have snaps. Well, today as I was finishing up diaper laundry - I had him in a Thirstie cover (he SO has these figured out) only because I knew it wouldn't be for long. Well, little did I know...

I left him in his little bouncy seat (that little Houdini has also figured out how to escape from) in the den while I went into the dining room to fold some clothes (since our dining room table is laundry central) and talk to my friend Phoebe on the phone. I heard nothing out of the ordinary...Lou jibber-jabbering away and hollering at Mallard and Nash just giggle-squealing. However, when I walked back into the den...this is what I saw.

Yes, he escaped the chair and the diaper. I mean...note how far away the diaper is - it is like he slings it as soon as he gets it off. So proud of himself. I just had to laugh and keep snapping away and he continued to giggle and enjoy his birthday suit.

Oh that sweet little naked jay has my heart...

Got the Blues...

2011-09-02T18:22:00.008-05:00

My 'Dear John' letter to my fave blue jeans...

To my dearest designer jeans, especially you...Sevens and Citizens,

I am afraid our love affair is over. I think this has been coming for the past 2 years...but it is finally time. We must part our ways. I don't even think we can stay friends.

I must say that my time with you was wonderful. I have known you since my college days in Athens. You have been with me through many times whether they were fraternity band parties, field parties, oyster roasts, low country boils or just one of those nights at the Georgia Theatre. After college, we stayed together and endured many things, including meeting the man of my dreams.

You even helped me through 2 pregnancies while I all but defied your limits with a rubber-band tied around your button.

But, the time has come. This will not be an easy part, and I don't feel we can ever try to re-kindle it either. On Thursday, I tried to give you one last chance as I walked around the house doing lunges and squats trying to make it where I could wear you and still breathe. It just didn't work.

Please don't fret - I promise I will not replace you with 'Mom Jeans.' I just cannot go there. But, as a mom...I can no longer afford you first-hand and no longer have the time to search for you second-hand. I also can no longer try to squeeze my baby-birthing hips into your sleek profile which I have loved for so long. Thank you, for making me and my hiney look fashionable for the last decade, but I feel it is no longer good-looking when my back-straps and love handles pop over the top in the much un-desirable 'muffin top.'

You will be missed tremendously not only by me, but also my numerous pairs of danskos, flip flops and my cowboys boots that love you almost as much as I have.

XOXO forever,
Amy

Can you tell how put out I am with blue jeans? Ugh. Coming from a girl that lives in them, I am seriously depressed. Looks as though I will be in the market for new jeans this fall. I have to face the fact that no matter how hard I Jillian Michael, run, etc...I am now blessed with hips. Hips that were not there before...and hips that wont fit into my beloved blue jeans. Ugh. What are your fave brands? I still like a wide-leg. I know that it probably isn't 'fashionable' anymore...but neither are my Danskos that I refuse to ever give up. Gross...anyone want to come jean shopping with me?

Save the Drama...

2011-09-01T13:01:00.004-05:00

Two days in a row...getting crazy on you.

I am not blogging about doggies and under-arm green beans today, but instead about the dramatics from my 4 year old. This is a topic that is nothing new to this blog, but I just feel this one is blog-worthy.

We have had some behavioral issues over the last week or so. Coincidentally, she just started 5-day a week school as well. I honestly and truly want to believe the 2 are related and she is just tired. I mean, it has to be...right?

Let me just start at the beginning of today's mega-meltdown. It happened when I picked her up from school. I was talking with her teacher and trying to get her book bag off her back to put her in the car. I went to grab a folder from her to help her into the car and she snatched it back and in a very grumpy-whiney voice said, "NO do NOT snatch it from me." I leaned down and told her that she could drop her attitude off on the sidewalk as we were not going to take it home with us. She apparently didn't get that memo...as the attitude sure enough came home with us.

Once I got her in the car I told her that before we went home that I had to drop off books at the library - and just happened to have to drop them off at 2 different libraries (that is a WHOLE other blog in itself) and she melted. In that same grumpy-whiney voice, "NOOOOOOOOO I want to go home right now and I DON'T want to go with you to the library. And you are NOT allowed to return my books. I don't want you to, they are MINE and I neber said you could return them!"

I turned around (as I was at a stop light) and said, "No mam. We are not going to act this way today. We are going to have a good day. This won't take long and we can go back to the library another day to get you more books."

To which she responds, with a humph and crossing her arms over her chest, "Well I saids I don't want to do that."

I ignored that one, honestly because I wasn't even going to go there with her right then. About 5 minutes later I smiled because Nash was so sweetly cooing and babbling in the back seat and I looked in the rear-view mirror only to see he was staring adoringly at her and talking to her. And so I said, "Awe, Lou...look how sweet. Nash missed his Sis and is telling you all about his morning!" And she turns the opposite direction in her car seat from him him and grumbles, "Well I don't feel like talking to him anyways."

Now, this is when I got mad. I mean...you can be grumps-a-lumps to me, but don't you dare be ugly to Nash. So, I pulled the car into a parking lot, turned around and told her that she was in dire need of an attitude adjustment and that when we got home she was not going to watch her Sprout show and that as soon as she got done with her lunch she was going to take a nap. That made her really happy as she, screamed at the top of her lungs,

"I CANNOT STAND HOW YOU ARE SO MEAN TO ME AND YOU DON'T LOVE ME AND YOU ARE ALWAYS BEING SO MEAN TO ME. UGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH." And then she proceeded to cry, like really cry the entire rest of the trip. I ignored her until we pulled into the garage and got out of the car.

We go inside and I tell her to go and sit in time-out until I tell her to come out. I fed Nash his lunch and prepared for the talk that we were about to have. I could tell it wouldn't be fun, she was very fragile and going to melt about anything and everything and I was not looking forward to it.

So, I get Nash happy and then go and sit down with Lou and ask her why she is so upset and if something happened to her today at school to make her upset. This is how she responds. And mind you, it is all coming from within sobs.

"Well, I don't fink that you understand that I need to watch the Sprout show so I can grow up and be big. And I can only change my attitude if you let me watch tv and not have to follow the rules. If you weren't so mean to me then maybe I wouldn't have a bad attitude and maybe I wouldn't have to yell at you and make you mad."

So, I responded calmly, "Louisa - watching tv is a privilege for when your behavior has been good. You have not shown me today that you are a big girl. Mommy and Daddy are the grown-ups and we make the rules and you, as the child need to follow them and follow directions. Did something happen today that got you upset?"

Wailing commencing..."Well, you snatched my folder and made me mad and then you gave back my libary books wifout asking me first and then you never play with me and you don't love me and you don't take care of me or care about me."

My heart was breaking at this point because it really does hurt when a 4 year old says things like this to you. And so, I tell her that I love her very much and do a lot for her and am sad that she doesn't understand that I love her. With this response...the Louisa came out.

"I mean, Mommy...if you would jes let me make the rules and have you follow the directions then things would be jes fine. You wouldn't have to yell at me or put me in time out. And the next time you mis-behaved like by not buying me toys or doing things that I ask like letting me watch tv I would put you in time-out and maybe you would then learn your lesson. I fink that if you jes listen to me and let me do what I want then we wont have any problems."

Oh, silly me. I mean, it is all so simple...right? Geesh. This new round of behavior and defiance and cry-fests and guilt-trips is making me wonder where in the crap her hormones are coming from. I mean, she is 4. I remember throwing these sort of fits at like 15 and stuff, but my WORD. Oh wait, I know. They are coming from the milk and eggs and chicken. That's it. Crazy hormones. Kidding here people...

All I know is that I swanny the person years ago that wrote the little tale about the girl with the curl that when she was good, she was very, very good and when she was bad she was horrid had a Louisa.

To end this whole dramafied cry-fest, I put her on my lap and said to her, "Louisa, you know that Mommy loves you very much. You are my Lou-bear and I do everything I can to make you happy and care for you and make sure that you know that I love you and how special you are to me." She looked at me, cocked her head to the side and paused. I thought I was going to get a heart-felt answer here or an 'I love you too' or something...but instead she said, "So does that mean I get to watch tv now?"

And this entire time this hoop-la is going down...sweet baby Nash is just bouncing in his chair and grinning. Bless him...he has no idea.

Under-Arm Green Beans Anyone?

2011-08-31T12:36:00.004-05:00

It is no secret to you readers out there that I love animals. I mean, I named my business after them! One of them even walked me down the aisle. Oh, and have I mentioned that one has had knee surgery and a brace?

Yes, love my furry babies. More than anything. Hint, this is a post about animals - if you don't like animals...you may not find this blog as irresistible as I do. :)

Mallard - my chocolate lab, aka Brownie...is R.O.T.T.E.N with a much-capitalized R. But, he gets away with anything and everything because he is my baby. I got him when he was 6 weeks old, therefore we 'get' each other. He is on my team. And so is baby Nash. In this house, we are known as "Team Cool." Haha, Byron I bet you didn't know that did you...now you have to come up with a name for your team that consists of you, Louisa, Lucy and Murray. :)

As rotten as he is, the dog loves to beg. If you are eating it, he wants it. Well, he has learned to stay close to Louisa when she eats as she 'drops' things all the time. And lately, he has learned if he stays near his team-mate Nash the same thing happens. He doesn't even care that it is un-seasoned, un-salted cold green beans that he is begging for. And Nash just giggles. And babbles and smiles. See for yourself. I mean, who needs baby wipes for food mess anymore?

Excuse the out of focus blurry photos, I just couldn't edit them out...they are part of that story. Cuteness. And Nash has recently started doing this face when he gets tickled or wants to laugh where he scrunches up his nose, closes his eyes and grins from ear to ear. The child could be eaten when he does this.

And just so you don't think I am being biased towards my team...here is a photo from this morning of 'the other team' snuggled up (minus Lucy-who was still asleep and Byron-who was at hospital, imagine that) watching Mickey Mouse.

Love all my chirrens. :)

Life's a Beach

2011-08-24T13:13:00.006-05:00

Before I talk about our fab-a-lous vacay to the beach, I must first address some issues at hand.

Yesterday, I failed as a Mom. All you Mommas out there reading, you know that feeling. It is the kind of day that when you finally crawl to bed, you just want to cry because you know you lost. I fought the battle of a stay at home Mom, and I lost. The day didn't start off bad, so I am not quite sure when things went south. I know for sure that suicide hour came about 2 hours too early, and it hit not just for Nash...but Lou too. By 5 pm, we were all crying. It was not fun or pretty. I felt all I did for a few hours straight was yell and discipline. And I don't like that feeling. At one point, I got my feelings hurt by my 4 year old. Never thought that someone so young could do that, but she did. This is what happened.

L - Mommy, I fink you need to remember that Jesus is watching you be so mean to me.

A - Lou, I am not being mean to you I am simply telling you that I need you to follow the rules and listen to Mommy.

L - Well, he sees that you make mean rules and that is mean to me.

A - Lou, just because you don't like the rules doesn't mean that they are mean.

L - Ummmm, yes it does. Jesus and Santa Clause are watching and they would prefer that you be sweet to me and make the rules how I want them. Sometimes you are just being the mean mommy and not being sweet.

A - How could I be the sweet mommy then?

L - By listening to what I say and letting me pick the rules.

Ugh. See. I knew we weren't going to get anywhere...but it still hurt my feelings that she was calling me mean and telling me that I wasn't sweet. Almost to the point where I wanted to give in. But I remembered, if I gave in...I would win the award of the 'sweet mom' at the moment - but she wouldn't take me seriously down the road. I need to stick with it and be consistent. But it is so hard when your little one thinks you are just doing things to be mean to her. Ouch. And how about bringing Jesus and Santa Clause into it? Geesh. Guilt-trip anyone?

So, when I finally got in bed last night with a heavy heart and feeling defeated and just beat up I remembered a quote I read in a book one day.

"There are days in which you feel right in line with who you want to be as a mother, and days that you fail miserably. But, the importance is that you get up the next day to try, try again."

And, so I knew that I needed to get up and try again. But, those days are so hard and they really hurt. Being a parent is way harder than anyone can prepare you for. It is the most rewarding thing ever, but man...it can suck the life right out of you sometimes.

So, I got up today with a new attitude. I can do this...I can be a good mom and set rules at the same time. But before it was even 8 am I had already: fought with a 4 year old about what shoes she was going to wear, fought with a 4 year old about how she was going to wear her hair, fought with a 4 year old about what she was going to eat for breakfast (see a trend here?), cleaned up doggie varmit off the floor, fed a cat that had a bowl full of food but was still walking in and out of my legs tripping me the whole time, crawled under my car to retrieve a paci that fell out of the car and bounced on the garage floor, backed into the garage door (this is a repeating offense that is all my fault) and gotten halfway to Lou's school only to realize her bag was still in the stroller in the house.

Needless to say, my coffee date with a good friend that always makes me laugh could not have come at a better time. She brightened my day and lifted my mood and we are trying it all over again. However, I will have to say that I am definitely looking forward to this afternoon and nap time and hopefully an afternoon thunderstorm so I can walk into my sewing room and get lost in fabric and design.

Now, for the beach trip. Let me just say...I could totally live at the beach. I grew up there, and really feel that I belong there. :) It just melts away any troubles. The funny thing is...I cannot stand the sand, but I love the beach. Ironic, isn't it?

We took off for a week in Destin. It couldn't have come at a better time for any of us. We had the most perfect condo that let us bring our sweet doggies (if anyone ever needs a place there, please email...I highly recommend where we stayed) and wild hooligan chirrens. We did nothing. Well, let me correct that...we sat on the beach, we played in the water, we read books, we played in the pool and we slept. It was fabulous.

Louisa had a blast. Twice in the week at dinner she actually said she was tired. This child never admits to being tired. She was beat. She played hard. She loved the water, she loved the sand and she even loved to chase the eagles (seagulls). Of course she loved the boiled peanuts. Her and Byron would spend hours in the water searching for hermit crabs. I think she could live at the beach too. And the child tanned through layers and layers of spf 50...and don't get me started on how white her hair is now. Little Coppertone baby.

My baby Nash loved the water. He was not a fan of the heat. That poor child sweats like it is his job. He loved to splash his hands in the water and grinned and grinned and grinned. He is not, however a fan of a wet bathing suit which shouldn't surprise me in the least since the child prefers not to wear clothes. I call him my little baby Jay (naked as a jay bird). He also enjoyed all the attention from his Mimi, Gan-daddy and Guinee. Rotten little thing.

I will now bombard you with beach photos...

Back to the real world...we have a TOOTH, finally! Poor sweetness has been 'teething' for months now. And now, at 6 months he has his first little one poking up through the gums. It is so funny, because by the time Lou was like 5 months she had 4 teeth. It really is funny how different they are. I joke all the time that he cannot sleep through the night or sit up on his own (poor baby has a head the size of his big sis) but he can sure escape his bouncy seat and take off his clothes. Pure boy. So, the new thing at our house is to watch how Nash 'escapes' his bouncy seat. It is inevitable. Turn your head for 5 minutes...and poof. Here is proof:

Louisa started pre-K on Monday. She goes 5 days a week and I am still trying to accept it. She of course loves it and even told me the other day when I picked her up that "soon I am gonna be so smart that I will be in high school learning algie-bra." Don't remind me boo...here she is on her first day.

Why do my chirrens feel the need to grow up? Don't blink. It is crazy how fast it goes...

Wizardly Friends

2011-08-12T00:23:00.004-05:00

So, guess who is back? Or maybe not the exact one...but a friend?

Yep, that guy.

And of ALL the rooms in the house, the poor soul picked Louisa's room. This is him on her ceiling. Now you see, she has been telling me for a few days that there was a wizard (I refuse to acknowledge that she calls them lizards now) under her bed, but just like most things that come out of her mouth (you'd be amazed at how she NEVER stops talking) I just kinda half-processed it and went about my day trying to concentrate. Well, tonight as I was cleaning the dishes and Byron was putting her to bed I heard him call for me to come in there. And there he was. On the ceiling.

Now, I am beginning to think that the Norris house is reptile central in the summertime. Remember Cedric the snake in the garage last year? If not, update yourself here and here. Lawdy, I haven't forgotten him and I swear I will never feel safe in my garage again. Well, so far this year I haven't seen him...but instead we have this lizard/wizard that I feel needs a name whether or not it is the same one.

So, of course Louisa is cowered under her covers and I am threatening her not to scream like I know she wants to so she doesn't wake Nash and Byron is standing on her rocking chair trying to get said wizard to jump on an opened book. Well, believe it or not, it worked. And he handed the book to me. However, that moment is when the wizard decided to get all fast and sneaky like, and remember in the previous post how I talked about how I don't like when they do that? Well, I jumped and he fell off the book and I watched him scurry back under the bed. Shit. At that point, Louisa asks anxiously, "MOOOOOMY did you get him?" And I looked at Byron (who also saw the wizard crawl under the bed) and said, "Sure did. Let me go take him outside real quick." And with that, I held the book close and left the room.

Okay, so yes...that was dishonest. But, let me defend myself. I HIGHLY doubt that that poor wizard is gonna crawl up into her bed tonight. He probably is gonna hang out under her bed until Murray finds him. However, I just didn't have the energy to fight the battle that I knew would come in saying, "Oops, no...he went back under your bed." There would be no sleeping going on in Lou's room if that occurred.

If you know my Louisa...you would've done the same. I know it. No judging here. :)

So, I am anxious to see how it all unfolds. I just came up with the perfect name for him...from here on out, he is Merlin. Here's to wondering if Merlin will let us all sleep tonight or if he is gonna terrorize Lou. And I've already come up with a Plan B to activate if for some reason Merlin shows his face tomorrow.

Blogging about lizards...at 12:30 am, wow- this is my life. :)

lizards, wizards & shoes...oh my!

2011-08-08T11:13:00.006-05:00

Yes, we are still alive and kicking. All of us...well, save maybe a lizard - but you will read more about that later.

Spare time lately has been devoted to my new line for brownie-goose. It is by far my most favorite yet and I am afraid that I may not be able to upstage it with anything else here on out. But, regardless, I am loving it and it is taking every spare moment when the chirrens are dry, fed and content. So...this poor, pitiful neglected blog.

I will start off by talking about Louisa's new-found FEAR of bugs. And I mean...fear. She has never minded them by any means. Granted, she is not fond of them and you would never find her picking them up or befriending them. But lawdy, she has taken it all to a new level now. Take for instance, the other morning I was actually able to shower. Stay at homers, you know what I mean and how precious a shower is. I was just about to wash my hair when I heard Lou scream bloody murder from the den. I am not kidding, my heart stopped and my blood ran cold. I grabbed my towel and my phone, preparing to call 911 because I was sure someone was in my house by the way she was still screaming. I run down the hall dripping water and shampoo all over the place to find Louisa safe and sound, and alone. Phew. Except for the roach that had her all in a tizzy. Once I was able to start breathing again and get her to stop screaming, I told her it was fine and that it was just a roach and that she had probably paralyzed him with her scream. Well, she wasn't going to be okay until I picked it up and disposed of it. Mind you, I am still soaking wet disposing of said rodent. Now, growing up in Savannah (the home of roaches that fly and are 2 inches long) I am not afraid of these things. I don't like them...but I mean, you live in Savannah...you have roaches/palmetto bugs. Well, I get Lou calmed back down and back to coloring and start walking back down the hall to continue my shower only to find that Lou's bloody murder screams have now woken Nash. You see...this is why a shower is so precious. Shaved legs are a luxury. Make-up is a has-been and deodorant is sometimes an after-thought. Getting dressed in something other than running clothes, just a bonus. Fixing your hair - now you are just showing off.

So, I was not surprised one bit the other day when I heard the same bloody murder scream, followed by, "MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMYYYY there is a wizard (she corrected me the other day and told me that they are actually called lizards, but I prefer not to let her speak correctly and therefore refer to them as wizards) in the tub!!!" Now, mind you - these wizards are famous at our house. They come out in the summer and hang out on the windows and fascinate the crud out of the striped kitty, Murray. They are these almost transparent gecko-type things that sometimes unfortunately wind up inside the house. I am sure it is more to their detriment than ours. So, I go and look and sure enough, bless his heart...he has found himself in the tub. I grab a cup to scoop him up and put him outside and don't you know that little booger tries to crawl straight up my arm. Now, I don't have anything against wizards. In fact, I think they are cute...BUT I do not like ANYTHING that moves quickly and sneakily and gives me the heebs. Well, that one finally cooperated, got in the cup and found a new home in my purple grass in my urns on the front porch.

So, as I was coming to bed the other night (no doubt in the wee hours as I had been crazy in the sewing room) this is the sight I saw next to the vent when I took off my shoes. Pay no attention to all the fur and dust and goo on the floors, our maid ran off with the yard man and I haven't seen her since.

Now, this thing scared the MESS out of me. However, I didn't scream...but instead jumped and almost peed my pants. He couldn't have been longer than 3 inches. Just presh. Well, he tolerated me staring at him for a while, then got shy and scurried under the baseboard.

Well, I noticed after I got my j's on and washed my face and all that jazz he got curious again.

So, I went to get a cup to save this little fellow too, and then I came back in the room and found this. Oooops and uh-oh.

So, I went on about my going to bed and fell fast asleep. Only to wake up about an hour later to Murray making her howling noises that she usually does in the middle of the night when she finds a bug or clean piper (pipe cleaner) or qth-pick (q-tip) or something interesting to play with. I was just about to get up and go set her straight when she quieted down. I was excited and drifted back off to sleep. However, she started again. And this time...it was louder and I realized sleepily that she was now on me in the bed making the noise.

Well, any of you readers that have cats or live with cats, etc know exactly where this is going. Yep, she had the wizard and had brought him to me and placed him on my chest while sleeping. I caught a glimpse of it lying on me and I brushed that thing straight off my chest and into the darkness of the bedroom. Bless it. I have no clue if it was still alive or not when she brought it to me as a gift or what...but I can almost be assured he was no longer of the living wizards by that point after being flung across the room. Lawdy. You see why I am always tired? Hooligans at my house. Up to no good in the wee hours.

Speaking of hooligans, let's talk about my little sweetness for a bit.

I just could eat this child up. And he knows it. Rotten as they come. Well, a new sewing friend of mine sent some of the yummiest shoes that she made from my fave fabric designer. Other than the sushi-booties (hehe, remember that one?) he has never worn shoes. So, I put them on him and they occupied his attention for a good 10 minutes. It was precious. So, you know good and well I grabbed the camera to catch it all.

Ohhhh, love that child. Have you missed us?

Lessons From a Busted Watermelon

2011-07-23T13:34:00.003-05:00

So, it seems as though I blog about the grocery store and events that surround it often. Would it make you think that was all I did? If you guessed yes, you are close. Very close.

And here I go again, blogging about the grocery store. But this time, there is a hidden meaning in it all that would have gone completely unnoticed had it not been for a busted watermelon and a random act of kindness from a complete stranger.

Now that it is all so clear, I find myself thinking of some lyrics from a Carly Simon song. Granted, this is not about a marriage as the song is…but about life in general. Especially these words, “Take a look around now, change the direction, adjust the tuning and try a new translation…” This blog is about taking a moment to stop. Realize the moment. No matter the circumstances or situation, live it. Take that bad attitude and throw it out the door, revel in the life that is happening that very instant.

So, where am I going here? It has been a rough few days here at the Norris house. Byron is on a super busy rotation at the hospital and I haven’t seen him (like really seen him) since Sunday morning. Granted, I was out of town from Sunday afternoon until Thursday…it is now Saturday, and I am under the same roof he is…when he is home. This basically means I have been with the kids all by self since Sunday. Now, I know that single mothers and army wives do this all the time and this is why I think they are brilliant. This is hard work. I reached the end of my rope this morning around 8 am and was sulking in the fact that I still had to do a large grocery trip and knew that Byron wouldn’t be home until around 5 pm at the earliest.

My little sweetness is having some issues. Teething maybe? Who knows, just generalized fussiness. Louisa is just Louisa, no need for explanation there. After traveling to the beach and back with both and then trying to get caught back up on housework and everything else involved, I had a moment this morning. Fueled by lack of sleep and lack of patience, I just cried. I felt so overwhelmed and in need of a break that I just couldn’t stand it. The problem lies in how I refuse to ask for help. And I don’t even accept it when offered, I guess it is a personality flaw…but it is what defines me. So, this was no one’s fault but mine. And I really, really try not to complain or fuss about any of it since I know that I am extremely lucky and blessed with everything I have. Both of my kids are healthy. I am healthy, Byron is healthy and while we do not have disposable income, there is food on the table every night. But still, I had a moment.

Then I go to Kroger. I tell Louisa upon entering the door that I would love quiet the entire trip since I didn’t have a list and wasn’t prepared. I had Nash (who hadn’t stopped fussing since about 6 am) in the baby carrier attached to the front of me. There were no real disasters in the store, but by the time I was finished and walking out to the car I was spent. Nash was screaming, Lou was melting and I was on the verge of tears again. Then it happened. I was loading all the groceries into the back of my car and as I turned to grab another bag, the watermelon I had just put in fell off the tailgate, onto the concrete and busted….ALL over me, my feet, etc. I couldn’t even find the energy to say a bad word. I just closed my eyes, took a moment and then tried to bend down and clean up the watermelon putting it in one of the grocery bags to put in the trash. About this time, a lady walked up to me. She grabbed me by the shoulders and just looked at me and smiled. At first I was nervous as this grocery store has a reputation of having car-jackings and purse-snatchings in the parking lot. But then, I realized she wasn’t here to hurt me. She had her son who looked to be about 10 or 11 come over to pick up the watermelon for me. Then, she had her daughter hand me her watermelon out of her buggy. And she said to me, “I know how you are feeling; I can see it in your face. Please remember…I would do anything to be in that stage of my life again with the small children. They grow too fast. Before you know it, they will be the size of mine. You cannot get this time back.” And with that, she gave me her watermelon, even though I protested. Once I got all the groceries loaded and kids into their seats and buckled, I teared up again. Blame it on hormones, fatigue, stress, whatever you want…but that woman was so right. And I thought back a few weeks ago to what Dean O’Conner preached on Sunday about the Grace of Jesus being anywhere, anytime and anyplace. While I don’t necessarily consider that lady to be the Grace of Jesus, I do consider her to be the Grace of Mothers. I needed that simple reminder that things really aren’t that bad. My kids are precious, and this time is precious. It is hard, yes…but this day will never again be. I will never again have this same opportunity to live this moment in time. Why spend it grumbling and rushing to get home and get everyone to bed? Now, this is SO much easier said than done. It is so easy to forget and get caught up in everyday life and not see these moments. It is too easy to gripe and complain and bark orders and yell. It isn’t easy slowing down and remembering to keep your patience. And it certainly isn’t easy to admit the defeat of everyday life.

So, while the week has been hectic I have to think back and single out a few moments. While at the beach, even walking back up covered in sand and water and walking with a screaming baby and a whiny 4 year old – I still remember seeing the look on the other mother’s faces. Mothers whose kids were now grown up. Was that look longing of a time passed? Was it thanking goodness they weren’t in my shoes? What about the moment in the car when both kids are screaming bloody murder, it is raining cats and dogs so I cannot see past my windshield wipers and there is a poopy diaper in the console of my car? One day I will look back at those moments and long for them to be my daily life again. Why can’t I remember that now? Why it is so hard to stop and look and just be?

It is now naptime at my house. Nash is asleep and Lou is in her room and quiet, not sleeping. These are the times that I feel refreshed and can look at the day with a positive attitude. Why is it that this new-found energy seeps away so quickly? While I am so thankful for that lady at Kroger today and her voice of reason, I almost wish she could remind me daily. I also wish that I didn’t have to be reminded. So, while finding grace in the stickiness of a busted watermelon all over my legs…I find myself singing in my head, “it’s the stuff that dreams are made of…” and trying to remember to revel in this moment in time.

UPDATE - I stole this from a friend's FB status, what a perfect excuse not to go run the vacuum, hehe:

The cleaning and scrubbing
will wait till tomorrow,
for Children grow up,
as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs.
Dust go to sleep.
I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep......

Until next time...when I may and may not be a mush-ball again. :)

ain't life grand

2011-07-08T14:26:00.011-05:00

Yep, pulled that one from the old WSP days. Hehe.

So, to catch you up on weeks of Norris-ness...here we go.

The Grand. One of my most fave places. Byron's work had a conference there (or else we could never afford a weekend there) and so Lou, Nash & I tagged along. We almost didn't make it there (the chirrens and I left early) as when I hit Mobile so did a very foul thunderstorm that flooded the streets and reminded me of Savannah. I pulled over at one point because I couldn't even see my windshield wipers from the rain, and realized quickly in the parking lot that the water was up to the middle of my tires. I kept pulling closer and closer to the church (it was a church parking lot) so that I would hopefully be on higher ground (no pun intended, peeps). All of a sudden, 2 firetrucks pulled into the same parking lot and I thought, "Oh perfect. I bet they are here to start blocking the streets because they are too flooded." And then I realized that Murphy had come along for the ride as they all jumped out of the trucks and ran with fire-putting-out-things (Kate...please forgive me, is it still a hydrant if it is on their backs?) and ran into the church. At this point I noticed the flames coming out of the roof. Not kidding. So, I was trying my hardest to stay half-way sane for my churn in the backseat while I was slowly losing my shizzles for real. But, like any summer storm it went away as quickly as it came and all was well in the world. I crossed the bay and stopped at a Publix and nearly hugged the worker when he told me that yes, you can buy wine in the groceries in Alabama. You see...we cannot here in MS and it drives me batty.

We arrived at The Grand with everyone else and their mommas (it was a busy weekend there) and settled in to a room with a view. Since my nerves were shot and the sun was about to set, we just enjoyed the room. And I enjoyed some wine. Nash was so in love with this bolster pillow thingy in the room that I would've packed it in the suitcases if I didn't think it cost $300. :) I have no pictures from the beach or the pool since it was just me and both the churns while Byron was in meetings. And let's just say...it was enough for me to make sure all heads were above water and my pina coloda cup never emptied. What? Just kidding...maybe. Pictures would have just been showing off. The kiddos played hard and slept hard.

Once we got back to Jackson, life was normal again. My drinks no longer had slices of pineapple and the Captain in them. Suicide hour was back in full force and on one particular day Momma had had about all she could stand. We were on our daily walk and I was beginning to twitch as I had gotten on to Lou a bazillion times already in the day and she was NOT listening to a word I said. As I was about to fly off the deep-end, she turned around to look at me, with sunglasses on and said, "Mommy...the reason I am not listening to what you tell me is because I am not Louisa. Dis is a disguyst (disguise) and my name is not Louisa. I am Elizabeth." Oh well excuse the pants off of me my deary!! Then later on the walk she was telling me about her favorite books. She said, "And my bery most fabrite is the book called 'not telling people whats to do.' Mommy, you should really read dat one since you are always telling me what to dos and it isn't polite." Now, I am not sure if it was Elizabeth or Louisa telling me that but I counted to 10 and continued to stroll and resisted the urge to lose it in public. Ugh. And oh dear me.

Then we all packed into the incredible shrinking SUV and made a quick trip to GA for the Fourth. A good time was had by all, except in the car. I think I have said it before, but I mean it now...I am SO over the car trips. 2 kids, 2 dogs and 2 adults in the same car for 7-8 hours is just NOT a good time to be had by all. Ever. At least I can say that we don't have many more of those trips to make since we are now on the 12 month countdown to Athens!!

Now, today is Byron and I's anniversary. 6 years. And as I told him on Facebook today (yeah, I was that wife that wrote on his wall...that was all the FB-PDA for me though guys) 6 years and 2 kiddos later, I wouldn't have it any other way. Love that guy. I blogged about our wedding last year. If you want, you can read about it here. But, I got up this morning only to find a bag from Anthropologie (he knows me well) and a note saying, "The sitter will be here at 7:30 and dinner reservations are at 7:45." For those of you that know me, you know that I HATE a surprise. I think it has something to do with the whole Type-A/Controlling personality. But Byron knows this and he teases me something awful with surprises. So, I have been begging him all day for hints and drilling all of my friends about who the sitter may be. I got the dinner location out of him (Walkers...double yumms, Redfish Anna here I come!) but still no info on the sitter. Despite my best efforts at playing PI for the sitter...still no luck. Either I am way off or someone isn't telling the truth. Hmmmmm.

Anyways, I have some windows to windex before the sweetness wakes up and all that jazz. I cannot wait for tonight. Although I hate a surprise, I love that my husband surprises me. I like to have my cake and eat it too. :) And speaking of cleaning the house, I have decided as of recent that it is over-rated. My maid came last summer on Wednesdays and that was great. Then, she got "The Green" (what I named the awful morning/all-day sickness I got with Nash) and kinda just stopped coming. Now, if the maid came...I wouldn't recognize her. But I have decided as long as the kids are fed and happy, who cares anymore. So yes, my house is now always filthy. Animal fur is on everything. I vacuum at least twice a week, but you wouldn't know. Out of control. And confession here...when I have spare time like when the kiddos are asleep or content, I no longer WANT to clean. Oops. I'd rather get in my sewing room and have some fun or just play with them. Suddenly, eating off my baseboards is no longer a priority. So, just a warning if you come on over...come on. But please don't judge me from my filthy house. Don't try to eat off my floors or even take off your shoes for that matter. If you want to sit on the sofas, I'd suggest wearing a darker color so all the animal fur doesn't show. Whatever you do...do not run your finger along any horizontal surface, that would be a dreadful idea. Or, if you come over and are mortified for me...hire me a maid. :)

I will leave you with my 2 new fave pics of my churns. Love these two. PS - the sweetness is now rolling over...and my FAVE found his feet. Love him. I think my fave thing is when someone else is holding him, he looks for me. When his eyes find me, the look on his face makes my knees wobble. Oh a momma and her little boy...

Driven

2011-06-25T12:34:00.003-05:00

To say that my husband is determined is like saying Louisa is slightly precocious. Both would be QUITE the understatement.

Here we go, Byron...this one is all about you. Every last word. I think you deserve some face time here. So, this blog post is all about my husband. And as I've said before, ladies...he is taken. :)

From the day I met him, there is one thing that has been consistent throughout the entire time I've known him. He never, ever ceases to amaze me. Ever. He is brilliant, he is driven, he is handy, he puts up with me, he is thoughtful, he loves our children, etc. And did I mention he puts up with me? I could go on and on, but he is probably already blushing.

We met in March of 2003, when friends set us up. I was in the process of getting more science classes under my belt while working in the business world so that I could go back to nursing school. He was in the process of getting into medical school. I had no clue what that meant. None. What I did know is that I had anyone and everyone telling me that I did not want to live the life of a doctor's wife. It didn't matter, my mind was made up already. I knew that I would stand by his side no matter what he was or did.

8 years later here we are. 4 years of medical school down and 4 years of residency, 1 more to go. As we sat at the country club last night for ENT graduation it occurred to me that it was our turn next year. We would sit in the front of the room and the ceremony would be about Byron. Then, a few weeks later...we would be the ones packing up our house and moving back to the beautiful state of Georgia. It all seemed surreal suddenly, so I took a trip down memory lane.

This here, is sort of the beginning of my husband's journey. His white coat ceremony. This is when you are about to start medical school. It is also a picture of a picture...as are all the photos in this post.

Look how young we both look. This is when the hard, hard work started. Or so we thought. Looking back now, med school was a breeze. And Byron probably will giggle at that since it isn't exactly true. He started med school with his nose in a book, and finished med school with his nose in a book. But we were dating, no kids, no worries. I was in nursing school and working a part-time job and we had money. Not tons, but we had money. Then one summer we got married. After that, we worked in the yard on the weekends, we fixed up our house, we spent time together and we laid in bed and drank coffee and ate donuts on Saturdays while watching HGTV. It was great. When it was time for him to start thinking about what sort of physician he wanted to be, his first thought was ENT. I can remember walking the dogs down Boulevard (our street in Macon) and talking about residency. He was loving the idea of ENT, but for those that don't know...it is HIGHLY competitive to get a spot in an ENT residency. Your scores have to be amazing, you have to have research under your belt, your CV (which is like a resume in the medical world) has to shine and shimmer. I never had any doubts. As I said before, he amazes me. So, he worked his tail off in school and studied and studied and studied more and on Match Day of 2007, just weeks before we had Louisa...Byron managed to grab his number one choice for an ENT residency. Pure brilliance. Pure brilliance. I remember sitting in the auditorium when he found out and wanting to cry. I also remember feeling like Louisa was about to pop my ribs out, but pride overcame me and I knew that he was feeling it too. This was what he wanted. This is what he had worked for. And then, he graduated from medical school (excuse the post-partumness)

and we packed our things and headed 8 hours west to Jackson, Mississippi with a 4 week old to start our new lives and his new career. Speaking of that 4 week old...how sweet is she in this picture with her Uncle Brad.

Little did we know the hell that was about to begin. The first year of Byron's residency was hard, to say the least. I never, ever saw him. When he did come home, I would try and shovel some food in his mouth before he crashed. He worked his tail off. And it hasn't stopped.

My husband gets up at 4:30 in the morning and leaves for work around 6 am. In those hours of the morning, he is drinking his coffee and answering emails from work or reading work-related material. He then goes to work and I don't see him again until about 5 or 6 pm at the earliest. Once he gets home, he has to again go back to emails and then work on research projects and reading. Excuse my french...but he works his ass off. I will refrain from telling all the nitty-gritty details that I would love to reveal about half of what goes on in addition to working as a resident, but let's just say it isn't all surgeries and clinics.

I married on over-achiever. And I love that. Sometimes.

Sometimes it isn't easy. For me, it isn't easy...but it isn't always about the 'me.' When I start to get upset because my husband stays late to check on a patient or wants to go in and operate when he is not the one assigned to be on call because it is a patient that he has been working with, I have to redirect those thoughts and think that for a physician and a surgeon, I can think of nothing better. Although sometimes I wish he was here with us, my heart is so filled with pride that he is so dedicated to his work and his profession and his patients. Maybe this is the part that all those people warned me about regarding being a doctor's wife. It is hard. Very hard.

It is hard to sit back and watch my husband walk in the door, beat to a pulp only to sit down for a quick dinner, read a story to Louisa and get her in bed and then go directly 'back' to work. By this, I mean he picks up a journal (we get like 10 a week) to read an article that I cannot even begin to pronounce the first word in the title. And then, he takes a break to grab one of his humongo surgery books with pictures that make me want to varmit and studies the surgery he will do the next day. He turns the light off around 10 or 11, and then gets up a few hours later to do it all again.

Driven. There is no other way to describe it. He is a damn good resident. I have personally never worked with him, but all he does at home can only lead me to believe he couldn't be anything else. He is a damn good husband. A damn good father. And a damn good best friend. He amazes me. And I don't know how he keeps going.

But last night at graduation, I almost cried twice when his hard work paid off. Something that as a resident, never happens. You can work yourself ragged, and your work is never noticed.

But last night, it was. He won awards for resident teaching and research. My husband loves research and projects and manuscripts. He loves to teach. And he was finally recognized for both. Tears swelled in my eyes and I could think of no better recognition than that. It felt silly to tell him I was proud, because it is so much more than that. Amazement, that is more like it.

So next year, he will graduate and we will pack our things and move to Athens, Ga. and he will begin working in private practice. I know the hours will be a little better, but I also know better than to think that my driven, over-achiever of a husband will change his ways. And you know, that is fine with me. I will continue to stand by his side, shovel food in his mouth when I can and thank the good Lord for friends that set me up with this brilliant man.

In your own words Byron, strong work. :)

All Quiet on the Western Front

2011-06-14T21:39:00.006-05:00

Yesterday was one of those days. And that would have just been fine and dandy if the day before hadn't been as well...and the day before that. Ugh.

My little sweetness has not been living up to his name. Something must be going on for him to act such a fool. He has not wanted to sleep or be pleasant. Maybe teeth? Who knows. I think today was better. Slowly getting back to the sweetness that is this.

Back to yesterday. Towards the beginning of suicide hour I had the idea that we needed to get out of the house. Since I had already gone for my run and had the kids in the stroller for about an hour, we couldn't repeat that part. So, I thought we would go to the library (where else should you take a fragile baby and toddler?) and get some books for our upcoming trip. So, I grab my book list and start getting ready to load everyone up in the car when all of a sudden a gust of wind hit that literally almost took Louisa with it. NOT kidding. It had such force and the trees were swaying and it was so loud that I had a panic moment that we were about to have a tornado and I wasn't prepared. So, I ran back inside with all kids and checked the weather real quick and by the time I had done all that...it was gone. But still, we were under a severe thunderstorm warning...so I thought it best to stay home. So, I resorted to the rocking chair with a fragile baby.

What happened next still gives me chills just thinking about it. I was rocking Nash and could feel someone pushing me as I knew that the little bit of rocking my feet were doing wasn't giving me all the momentum that I had. I just figured it was Lou. I could almost see her little shadow behind me on the wall next to me so I wasn't worried. Then, I got real cold. Like...chill bumps from my head to toes and the hair on my neck stood up. About that time, Lou walks into the living room (where I was rocking) from the hallway on the OPPOSITE side of the room that I was on.

Now, let's talk about ghosts, spirits, ghouls...whatever you want to call them. I was born and raised in one of the most haunted cities in the South. Ghosts and their stories are nothing new to me. In Savannah, you are raised to respect the ghosts. I am not saying there was a ghost rocking me in the chair...but I have NO clue what it was. Creepy. Still getting creeped out and it's been over 24 hours. I mean, what in the world?

So, once I had chills run straight up my spine and out my ears - can I just tell you how I was not excited when the power went out about 15 minutes later. Thankfully, Byron was home and the storm wasn't bad (seriously all we had was that one gust of wind) and I eventually got over the rocking-chair-pusher. But, power outages at dinner/bath time/bedtime are not so cool in a house that is dark anyways. So, this is how we improvised.

We pulled the red out of our necks and we fed and bathed Nash in the doorway of the front of the house. I think he actually enjoyed it.

Then, Byron and Lou went to the corner grocery (hehe) to pick up some white bread and chips for a fancy dinner of tomato sandwiches and Lays with french onion dip. Fab-a-lous. I had the house (haunted or not) all to myself with sweet little Nash who was slowly fading off while drinking his bottle.

Now, have you ever realized how quiet a house is when the electricity has stopped? I never had until last night. I sat there and I smiled. After the few days that I had had...the quiet was nice. There was no hum from the air conditioner, no pollution from the TV, my blackberry was dead and couldn't charge...so therefore no noise from that. It was nice. It was still and I just sat. Once I put Nash in his bed I went outside to sit more. It was gorgeous. The wind was blowing and the temperature was perfect and it was just still. I breathed a sigh of relief as I slowly let go of the tension of the last couple of days.

Then, I dined by candlelight with my sweet husband and my fireball. It was almost 9 by this time, and the power company said it would be 3 am before power was restored. So, once we got Lou down, I smiled. A big, silly, sneaky smile. I had tons of emails to respond to, some sewing to work on and a pattern to finish writing. But, you know what I did instead? I walked back to my room, light on my feet and put on my pj's. I crawled up in the bed and grinned. Not a care in the world. It isn't often I get to turn in early without feeling guilty of what I need to do. Then, I giggled as Byron walked into the bathroom and flipped the switch. :) You never realize how accustomed you are to the electricity until it is gone.

So, for the first time in a while...at the Norris house, all was quiet. It was nice. It was needed.

On a side note, my little firecracker took her first tumble/gymnastics class today. She was so 'nerbous' all day long. I was so excited for her. I mean, we are short...we are limited to the sports we can do. Her short, stocky build is perfect for some gymnastics. Her 'nerbousness' faded away almost instantly, and methinks she enjoyed herself.

Don't you think? Oh, and just a little blog-face-time for my sweet Lucille.

Tailor in Training

2011-06-08T22:06:00.005-05:00

Louisa spends a lot of her time in the sewing room. A lot like her Momma. And her Momma's Momma, and her Momma's Momma's Momma AND her Momma's Momma's Momma's Momma. Or, I could just make it easy and say just like her Mom, Grandmother, Great-Grandmother and Great-Great-Grandmother. Wow. Legacy of tailors here.

Anyways, she always complains that I don't make her cute clothes. In fact, one day when an order from Matilda Jane came in she said, "Oh, is dis Matilda Jane lady sending me clothes because you neber make me anys?" Ouch.

She is right. She gets to be my sizing model and my photo-shoot model for clothes that she always loves, dresses she gets to twirl in and so on. And then, I take them away and sell them. Poor girl. So deprived.

Well, this time I gave in. She was looking over my shoulder one day when I was ordering fabric (HB Fabrics) and fell head over heels for this one right here.

Bet you never would have guessed that would be up her alley now would you? Hehe. And I caved, just because I had a moment and I also tend to be the slight fabri-holic.

Anyways, the day it came in the mail you should have heard the squeal that came out of her mouth. My ears were ringing for hours. She would walk by it and just touch it and stare at it and that just melted my heart as I, too can spend hours in my sewing room just touching and looking at fabrics. It makes me so happy, so I totally got it.

Well, yesterday I asked her if she wanted to help me make her a dress and she was for sure on board. The excitement in her was out of control. I asked her what kind of a dress she wanted and she said, "a twirly dress wif some blue buttons." So, I told her that she could pick out the fabric and that I would plan out a dress. I figured she would come up with something completely off the wall and we would have to re-figure. I was really nervous considering I couldn't come up with anything off the top of my head that would go with hot pink and red. Well, when she came to me with a yard that I had literally forgotten about my jaw almost fell straight off my face. She matched it PERFECTLY. Like, I don't know if I could have done better.

So, with my pride at an all-time high we both sat down with scissors and I explained to her step by step why I was doing what I was doing and what certain things meant and I was amazed at how well she was paying attention. She was soaking it all in and we were having the most fun. When it came time for the ruffle material I started to sweat though. You see, this material is spandex. That is like a cuss word to me in the sewing room. Add in a toddler apprentice and well, go ahead and label it as the worst of the 4-letters. I was nervous. But you know what, it went without a handle and she LOVED hand-gathering it. She's a natural.

Nash woke up before we could finish it and then life happened and I had to cook dinner, get kids bathed and in the bed, etc. I stayed up to finish it since I knew she would be so excited to see it this morning. Little did I know that she would tear off her pj's in the middle of the den and put it on immediately. She was so proud. I kept catching herself looking in the mirror. It made me smile. I was so, so proud. Then, she told me, "You know Mommy, I could be your helper in da sewing room all da times. I am kinda the best."

And then, while staring into the mirror she said, "Thank you Jesus for making me the most bootiful." Wow. That's my girl.

Begging Darlin' Please

2011-06-05T14:31:00.008-05:00

So, now that all of you are singing one of Eric Clapton's best, let me just say why I am begging. Total blog slacker. But, instead of apologizing every time since methinks this isn't the only time it will happen, I am going to do a blanket-umbrella-type apology for the rest of my blog life. Ummmkay?

Life gets crazy with two. Throw in a small home-run business and a husband who's job requires him to spend almost every waking moment at the hospital, and then it just gets nutso. But, we survive, wouldn't know it any other way!

Just a run-down on the crew.

Nash is still my little sweetness. Child is SO sweet. Oh dear. Had we had him first, I might have had like 20 other kids. I mean, edible. He is so quiet too, in fact...I straight up FORGOT him the other day. Went out for a stroll on the street with Louisa on her tricycle and Byron and realized a few minutes into it that my other child was inside all by self. Geeze. No worries - no babies were harmed. As soon as I flew in the door panicked he was still just a talking away at the monkey on his little bouncer seat. Phew. Sweet thing. With that said...he is a talker. So, I have another on my hands. Lawdy.

Louisa is still my hooligan. I think she always will be. But, she makes it so fun. She just took swimming lessons and while not Olympics material,

she is doing better than last summer. She will actually put her head UNDER the water now. Amazing. Also, amazing what some pink 'wobble-gobbles' will do for a hot mess. I mean, check out the form. Ha.

She is still busy telling everyone their business like it is her job, watch one day she will be like a CEO or something then it really will be her job and she will get paid for it. :) I can just hear it now, "SEE mommy, tolds you." With hands on hips, of course.

Instead of catching you up on weeks of sweetness and hooligan-ness...I will just let the pictures do the talking.

First of all, you know it is summertime when...

Your bathroom floor is littered with 'babe-ing soup' pieces and parts.

Nothing brings pure joy like a water-slide when it is 100 degrees outside.

You enjoy a cantaloupe picnic on Daddy's lap. By the way, melting of the heart is about to happen. Love this photo.

The stoooooooooopid fruit flies take over your kitchen and multiply no matter how many attempts to kill the crackers. If you are wondering, the bowl they are all perched on is their bait, uncooperative little jokers let me tell you.

You jerry-rig it so that little sweetness himself can enjoy the kiddie pool. By the way, I will go ahead and post this disclaimer that needs to follow from now on for the blog. When I have both chirrens in a photo, they will NOT always be looking at the camera, looking happy or having a good time. I give up. :)

Speaking of sweetness....love this face he makes.

And still, by far, my fave...

So, for the rest of it all...just a few of what the Norris family has had their hands in.

More organized post next time? Maybe...no guarantees. :)

And just to keep in theme with the randomness. Hehe.

awe, shucks...

2011-05-25T20:17:00.002-05:00

so, a little birdy told me that i knew someone being showcased on a blog. read it here: http://www.amandadovewells.com/?p=559

do you know her?

hehe.

Prove It.

2011-05-21T16:16:00.004-05:00

I am about to let all of you in on a little secret.

My child, Louisa is strong-willed.

Whoever would have known. Now that you are all giggling knowing full and well that was NO secret I will indulge you on some of her latest. Just look at this face.

This, this my dears is what I deal with on a daily basis. And what makes it so hard is the fact that we are JUST alike in the whole attitude/personality/strong-willed/stubborn/must have the last word/short fuse kind of sense. She may not look like me, but by golly - the child can hold her candle to me in the behavior department.

Now, one would think that since I realize this and know that she must be learning from me, that I would change. No way. That would mean that I was letting someone else (like a personality that had some sense) tell me my business. And for anyone that knows me, I cannot STAND to have people tell me what to do. How I EVER made it through 12 years of school, 4 years of college and then another 3 years for nursing school alive is beyond me.

Anyways. If I didn't feel the need to argue with my 4 year old I think things would be quite peachy at the Norris house. But I refuse. :) I will have the last word. And it will be on my terms. Geeze, who is the 4 year old now?

Take for example, the other day. I had asked Lou about a bazillionk times to clean off her craft table. Well, she did everything but for about 30 minutes. Then, when I went over there and started to clean it myself (ie. throwing stuff in the trash that needed to be trashed...you see, my child has a slight hoarding problem...something I can assure you did NOT come from me, unless it pertains to fabric, then guilty as charged) she flipped her lid. I mean, the eyebrows turned red, all rationale went out the back door with two labradors that were so excited to be out of the middle of it. She screamed and she pitched a fit and she grabbed the trash bag from me, etc. Finally, I sent her to her room and told her until she could calm down she needed to stay in there. Well, off she went stomping and screaming at the TOPS of her lungs the whole way down the hall. Then I heard it. She slammed her door. Oh NO she didn't. Here is where my maturity level began to slip.

I opened her door and told her that she was not allowed to slam her door like that. I told her it was not acceptable and that she would not behave that way. She needed to stay in her room and think about her behavior. And, I closed her door and walked off.

Then, she opened her door, stuck her head out and said, "I am not gonna fink about my behabor. You are NOT gonna throw away my collection (ie. the crap on her table)" and with that she slammed the door again.

Oh hells to the no. I went back in there and opened it and told her once again she would not slam her door and that I am the boss and I made up the rules and she needed to follow instructions or she wouldn't be getting a star on her chart. I closed the door and walked off.

Then, she opened it back and said, "you are NOT gonna talk to me that way and I want you to leaves me alone!" and slams the door.

Do you see the cycle here? It is quite vicious. I try my best to count to 10 and cool down, but with both of us having to have the last word it gets quite out of hand. I thought at this point if I opened her door this time, what would I say? She needs to know she cannot talk to me like that but are we even getting anywhere right now with the two of us being hot-heads? No, we aren't. So, I let it go. I walked out into the den and sat down and tried to calm down and think of how we were going to address this later. She is 4 Amy, and she is going to test her boundaries. And I need to come up with a way to realize not to take it personal yet to guide her back on the right path, with the key word here being WHEN my head isn't so hot so we get somewhere instead of standing outside her door opening and shutting just to get the last word in.

This parenting thing...wow, it sure is tough. Especially when you have such a strong-willed child. She came out of her room later and put on her charm and we had a talk and all was right in the world again. At least until the next meltdown...which for you mother of toddler girls know good and well it was only like an hour later.

And for a more humorous story about Louisa. We were eating dinner the other night and she was not eating very quickly and instead stalling and talking and carrying on (like every other toddler I am sure) and Byron said to her, "Louisa, if you don't hurry up and eat your dinner I am going to take away one of your stars from today." And do you even know what that little cracker said in response?

"Prove it."

Yes, you read that correctly. I thought I was gonna fall of the sofa (yes, we eat in the den in front of the tv, judge not). I was waiting for Byron to fly the coop with the look on his face. I quickly said, "Byron, I don't think she knows what that means!" And he asked her and she back-tracked and you could tell she quickly realized that she didn't know what she had said, but that she had used it in the correct context and it wasn't very nice. Wow. I was speechless for quite some time after that one. Prove it. Lawdy.

And now, after all that drama. How about some of my sweetness, because I just couldn't stand it!

Until next time hot heads...

Who Sent the Sushi Booties?

2011-05-18T15:46:00.003-05:00

Okay, I am dying laughing. And I mean, dying laughing. My cheeks hurt and my stomach is in pain because I cannot stop giggling.

So, a friend discovered a package on my doorstep today. It was addressed to Mr. Norris and had a return address of "Sushi Ornaments." I thought..."what the crap?" I figured Byron had ordered something...but the whole "Mr. Norris" confused me.

Well, I opened it and this is what I found.

No note, no from so-and-so, etc. Just some Sushi Booties. Hehe.

So, I found the store on Etsy and emailed the seller to see who had sent it (I haven't heard back yet). I then proceeded to text Byron and ask if he ordered Nash some Sushi Booties to which he texted back, "does that sound like something I would do?" Which, that was the first giggle.

I then proceeded to text other friends to see if they had sent the Sushi Booties and this is when the hysteria began. My phone must be having an off-day. It kept correcting it to "Sushi Boobies." So, I would get some very confrused responses. Then, I was uber embarrassed and would correct it to "Sushi Booties" and still get the confrused responses. Here are just a few so that you can giggle too.

WTH?
Ummm, I have no idea what you are talking about....
Excuse me?
Are you drunk?
Seriously?
I didn't send the booties, but I ordered the boobies. :)
Did you mean to send this to me?
WTC?
Lay off the booze Ames...

So, if it isn't random enough that some Sushi Booties (which I had been super oblivious to before just now) came in the mail to "Mr. Norris" I have NO clue who they are from. But rest assured, I have laughed more over these things in the last 30 minutes than I have in a while.

So...did you send the Sushi Booties?

Cloth Diapering 101

2011-05-13T15:16:00.011-05:00

Okay, here it is. FINALLY. The blog a lot of you have been waiting for, that I have procrastinated since I knew it would take a while to write. :) PS - I haven't proofed, so excuse the errors. The chirrens are now awake and unhappy hour is upon us. Time to go get in the stroller...

Now, while the title is Cloth Diapering 101, please note that this is NOT the only way to cloth diaper. This, is however, how we cloth dipe at the Norris house. So, this is what works for us. And one thing you will learn is that the whole cloth diapering system works differently for everyone. So, this is basically information and basic knowledge.

First, let me say why I cloth dipe. I am not completely sure. Hehe. I mean, yes – I do want to help the environment and save money, but I am sure I have other reasons, but I really couldn’t come up with them. Whoops. I do, however cringe every time I do a load of dipe laundry in my 1950’s washing machine that is not EVEN energy or water efficient. Maybe one day, but for now…oopsie. And as for the saving money aspect…cloth diapering is addictive. You always want to buy and get more. Oopsie. As long as you can keep yourself from over-stashing...you save money for sure! When I calculated it all out, by the time that Nash is 5 months old...my investment has paid off. :)

I will have to say that when I decided I would cloth diaper, I got the same reaction from like 90% of the people. A furrowed brow and a haughty “WHY would you do that?” Now, now people. It isn’t like I am falling off my rocker here, and I am not the only one! I have realized it is much more popular up north and out west than here in the dirty south. It would be so nice if there were cloth diapering stores actually here so that not everything I did was online, but hey – I have found some great websites, so no need to complain.

Now, the majority of the people ask, “How is it going?” In all honesty, it is going great. It is much easier than I ever anticipated. Honestly. The main difference is an added 2-3 loads of laundry a week. Not bad at all. And the cloth diapers are so much cuter than the disposables I will have to say. :)

So, I am going to try and make this as organized as I can. TRY being the key word.

Here we go. This is the cloth diapering system we use at the Norris house. Prefolds, covers & pockets.

In my stash at the moment I have:
24 Prefolds (maybe a few more???)
8 Covers (of various sizes)
6 One-Size BumGenius pockets
6 Perfect Size Fuzzibunz.

My faves….HANDS down the Fuzzibunz. However, some people cannot stand Fuzzibunz. It takes every kind of people….to make the world go ‘round.

Prefolds & Covers

Let me say that I was so intimidated by this system when I was first getting started that I almost didn’t try it. I thought it was too ‘old school’ and since there were other easier ways, why should I bother. Let me say I have eaten every word. I love prefolds and covers. This is what we use when we are at home. Here is a breakdown. The prefold

is a cotton/muslin type material that gets more and more absorbent the more you wash it. Crazy, right? Like when you buy prefolds – you need to prep them (wash them) like 6-7 times before baby wears so that you can increase the absorbency. This part of the diaper is NOT waterproof. Hence, why you need the cover. Now, there are many, many different ways to use prefolds in your cover – but I will show you my fave way. The angel fold. You fold the prefold into thirds

and then fan out the top edges and place in your cover.

You now have an angel wing fold. You place baby in the diaper and pull the prefold around to the front and fan out the edges here as well.

This creates a nice little gusset at the base of the leg to hopefully hold in any blowouts that may occur.

You then bring around the cover and Velcro it together. Word of wisdom – in the cloth diapering world, Velcro is called Aplix.

The skinny on prefolds & covers – this is probably the cheapest way to cloth diaper. Prefolds will run you about $1-3 dollars a piece (you can get bleached or unbleached, and the Indian prefolds are my faves) and a cover is usually no more than $15, depending on the brand. My favorite cover is a Thirstie. It has leg gussets that really, really, really contain any sort of pooey blow-out that could ever come up. You don’t need as many covers as prefolds as you can use the same cover all day - UNLESS there is a super-duper bad poopy that just cannot be wiped out of the waterproof inner of the cover. But, all day what I do is just replace the prefold and keep the cover.

Pocket Dipes

As I said earlier – I have 2 brands of pockets. Fuzzibunz perfect size and BumGenius 4.0 one-size.

The main difference in the 2 above are the closings (one is snaps and the other is Aplix, this is just a matter of preference…but Fuzzibunz only makes snaps – I haven’t found I have a preference yet on the snaps vs. Aplix). The other, you may notice that the BumGenius Aplix (on the right) also has snaps. This is because it is a one-size diaper. Meaning it will fit your baby from birth to potty training. Now, here again is preference. You can either buy all one-size dipes and then have them the entire time, or you can buy the sized dipes and just get new ones when your baby needs a larger size up. Personally…I have found that I think my problem with the BumGenius (mind you, this is a GREAT diaper and I use it all the time, but I just don’t love it like I do the Fuzzibunz) is because it is one-size and you cannot get the leg opening any smaller for those little newborn legs. Make sense?? The one-size pockets are usually a few dollars more – but as I said…personal preference. I will more than likely keep all of my one-sized BumGenius and then when Nash outgrows his Small Fuzzibunz, I will buy 6 more Mediums.

Okay, why is it a pocket? The anatomy of this diaper is a waterproof outer layer (just like a cover) that has an inner layer of a soft microfleece that will wick away moisture.

What the heck does that mean? Basically, it draws the moisture away from the baby and into the insert. Like, when I take off one of Nash’s pocket dipes, I wouldn’t know it was wet until I pull out the insert. What is the insert? Well, see how between the inner and outer layer there is a ‘pocket?’

This is where the insert goes. The insert comes with the diaper and is something that you have to ‘prep’ as well when you first get to increase the absorbency. You place the insert in the pocket, and I remove it when I take off the diaper and wash it separately and then replace after laundering.

The skinny on pockets. They are SO incredibly easy it is almost silly. These are close to a disposable in that there is no folding of a prefold or anything, just put on the baby and snap/Velcro and voila. This are the diapers that I use on the go. Reason being – you just take them off, fold them up and put them in your wet bag (details on this later). They are more expensive than your covers and prefolds – but obviously you are paying for convenience and quality. Fuzzibunz usually run around $18-21 a piece and BumGenius are right around there as well.

As for things you must have if cloth diapering – you need a wet bag for your diaper bag and a pail liner.

Wet bag for diaper bag. This one is mine.

Look at that Joel Dewberry gorgeousness. (PS - Summer Turner and Katie Puckett...look closely at Sambo and you can see our convos, hehe) I got mine from an Etsy seller called Monkey Foot Designs. I love this bag. This bag is lined with a waterproof material and has a zipper so that when you are out and have a diaper change, you just put the diaper in the bag, zip it up and take it home to put in your big wet bag…aka your pail liner.

What I did is buy a trash can at Big Lots and then got a Planet Wise pail liner. It is a waterproof bag that fits into a trash can and anytime I take dipes off of baby, they go in here. When I am ready to do a load of diaper laundry, I grab the bag out of the trash can and take it all to the washing machine. You can wash your pail liner with your dipes. I suggest having 2 pail liners so that you will have one to put in the trash can to line while your other is in the wash. I haven’t gotten a second yet…but soooo need to!

For wipes – I confess…I am still using regular disposable wipes only because I haven’t take the time in my sewing room to cut out my wipes. You can use regular wash cloths, old pieces of t-shirts cut up, etc. I just happened to have a piece of fabric that I want to cut up and serge to make wipes and haven’t gotten there yet. But you can buy a solution to soak the wipes in, or just make it yourself. This is what I have done…but just don’t have the wipes in it yet. Whoops. The solution I use is ½ cup baby oil, ½ cup baby wash and 2 cups of water. I am looking for some lavender oil to put a smidge in there for yummy booty-smell. :) With cloth wipes, just throw them in the laundry with your dipes and you are good to go.

Now the question that I know is brewing in MOST people’s minds by now, since I always get asked this question. What do you do with the poop?

Well, it really isn’t that much of a deal. I am fortunate in that most of Nash’s poops are fairly solid. So, I grab them with a wipe and put them in the trash. Every now and then when he has a bad one or a loose one, I will go to the toilet and swish the dipe around in there to loosen up most of the poo. Then, I put the diaper in the pail liner to be washed later. NOT a big deal. Promise. It isn’t nasty and it doesn’t gross me out, but then again…to each their own. I always have people ask if I have had a diaper yet that was so bad I just wanted to throw it out…not yet, and I probably wont. Those dipes are too expensive to just part with. :)

Laundering. Once again, not a huge task. Actually, the dipes are the only laundry that I don’t mind doing. Haha. I do dipe laundry about every 2-3 days. I usually will do a rinse in cold water, then add a smidgen of detergent (I use All Free & Clear…you HAVE to make sure to use a detergent free of smells, additives, etc and dryer sheets and fabric softener are a big fat NO-NO with cloth dipes) and wash in hot. Then, the only part that I will put in the dryer are my prefolds and inserts. All of my pockets and covers I hang to dry. Again, a personal preference…it just prolongs the life of your dipe. When it is sunny outside, I hang them all (inserts, prefolds, covers and pockets) in the sun. Want to know a magic trick?? The sunshine will bleach out any poo stain. NOT kidding. My dipes look brand new when they come in from a sunning. Brand new.

Okay, I think I may have covered all of my bases...but since my lovely computer just decided to take away my word document that was already 3 pages on this subject and I wasn't finished (seriously...where did it go??) I think I need to step away from the computer before I hurl it out the window. One thing I will mention, my fave place to buy dipes is at the BumRite Diaper company. The thing I love the most about this place is the customer service. When I call, I always, and I mean always get someone. The one time I didn't, I was called back within an hour. And, shipping is so quick. I always have my dipes within a few days. :)

I hope this helps to answer some questions or clear up any misconceptions about cloth diapering. If this is something you are thinking about doing, please don't hesitate to email with any questions at amysnorris (at) hotmail (dot) com. I know that I couldn't have done it without the input of my cloth diapering friends in the beginning! It may not be for everyone, but yall...it isn't bad! And there isn't much that is cuter than a big-ole cloth diapered booty!!!

Now, just to summarize with the sweetness asleep with his zeebs. So stinking cute.

And, another Norris that hasn't gotten enough face-time lately. :) This is the little striped kitty hiding in the bathroom. Wonder who she is hiding from. Hmmmm...

Any questions? :)

Basking in the Rays

2011-05-10T15:42:00.004-05:00

Okay, before I go any further...looky at what I got to wear.

Yep. On Mother's Day I was allowed to wear the macaroni necklace. And I wore it all day in fear I was never allowed to wear it again. Excuse the poor photo as I was taking it of myself in the mirror and my maid hasn't shown in like 6 months, and you know...mirror cleaning isn't on my daily agenda. Or, I could just say it is an antique mirror and that it is fuzzy. Yes, that is it.

This blog is random. I am supposed to be showering, or sewing or cleaning and instead, I grabbed another cup of afternoon coffee and sat down to blog since I know that nap time is almost over and there is no sense in starting something that I can't finish, right? Confession - I think I drink way too much coffee, but whatever. Between the coffee and Diet Coke, I think I get my 8 glasses of water in somehow. :)

But, I want to talk about one of the best inventions ever. This guy.

The baby monitor. Whatever would you do if you were not allowed to leave the house when babes slept? Don't get me wrong - I don't go anywhere, haha...that sounded kinda bad. I mean, when I am at Target and the kids are napping, I take the monitor....haha, just kidding.

But, if there is one thing I enjoy...it is sitting outside in the sunshine. I get it honest. Growing up, Mom would pack an entire day's worth of stuff and we would pile up in the car and head to Tybee for the day. And not because we lived far away, we were only 15 minutes from the beach - but she enjoyed staying all day. And I get it. First of all, the kiddos are entertained AND they get worn out so they will sleep that night. Second, toes in the sand with sunshine in the sky. There is no other drug like Vitamin D. I remember playing in the water and seeing the sky get dark for an afternoon shower and watching all the other beach-goers pack up and leave. Not us. Mom would huddle us under towels so we wouldn't get pelted by the raindrops and say, "Oh, it's passing over." And most of the time it did. Then, we would have the beach to ourselves. And there is something to be said about the beach after a rain, it almost gives me chills.

Well, I am not 15 minutes from the beach and never again will be - but I can improvise. A beach chair, baby pool, Pandora on the Blackberry & some sunscreen and I head out in the backyard. It is quite nice. I miss the ocean breeze...but I can sit in my chair in my bathing suit not worrying about what is jiggling or not looking great due to a very high privacy fence. I also don't have to worry about the sand blowing on me which puts me in a bad mood VERY fast. And I tote the baby monitor outside with me. And I sit and I enjoy the peace and quiet of nap time while I bask in the rays of the sweet sunshine. Nothing like it. It is time where I can gather my thoughts and figure out what to do and how to manage the chirrens the second half aka Round 2 of the day while soaking up some rays. The labradors join me, and Mallard always tries to get in my chair. He is so sweet. Oh, the joy of nap time. The monitor shown is Nash's. I don't even bother to bring Louisa's outside since I know she isn't napping, and if she needs me...she will come and find me I am sure. In fact, after nap time this particular day this is how I found her. Granted...she went to 'sleep' in regular clothes and managed to tell me that Nash woke her up.
She is just so darned cute that I cannot even get mad. I mean...the tulle tied up her legs. That girl...

Later that day, she told Nash, "You know buddy, I hope dat one day you will be as bootiful and smart as me. And a good drawer like me, oh and a good singer. And a good kicker, and a good painter. Ooooh and a good puzzle putter together...." Yes, I hope he is also as modest as you are you little cracker. :)

As I said...random blog - but there it is. I can hear over Louisa's monitor, "Mommy, I am frew wif my nap now. Why don't you come and get me? Mommy? Hello??" And with the volume of her voice, I know she is holding the monitor's receiver up to her mouth like a microphone. That girl...

Tried and True

2011-05-05T14:32:00.005-05:00

There are certain things about childhood that you think back on and smile. Things that are so trivial and silly almost but that still, make you smile. Some of the 'crafts' that are done in preschool and kindergarten and such are classics. Tried and true - over and again, they are always big hits with the kiddos.

Take for example, this beaut that came home from school with Louisa today.

The penne pasta necklace. Talk about a walk down memory lane. I remember making one of these. I can almost be positive that I was sitting in Mrs. Francie Browne's kindergarten class alongside of my side-kick Jennifer Sanderlin (she is now Jennifer Hall). Now, whether or not this day was before or after our infamous sad-gram, I am not sure - but I can remember walking home from school (yes, I walked home from school) with my pasta necklace clinking around my neck and being proud of my fashion statement.

I can also remember when I was a little older and my younger sister brought home the pasta necklace clinking and proud as can be. I remember thinking, "how silly is that? how baby-ish is that?" I mean, you know how us older sisters (and middle children) think.

But today, when it was around the neck of my favorite little fireball, I was almost brought to tears. How is it that a necklace made out of pasta and on a pipe-cleaner can bring about such emotions? I am not sure. But the smile on her face brought me back instantly to me bopping down the street with my very own carb-loaded necklace.

Here I am getting all mushy again. Crazy what a second baby can do to you. :) But before all the mush continues...I will fill you in on the convo in the car on the way home. I was oohing and ahhing all over her necklace and she said, "Why fanks, Mommy. I jes lub it too. I made it for you for modders day, but I fink I am going to keep it since I am much prettier in it than you would be probably. Otay?"

Hmmmmm, I might have to agree.

Love this child. :)

Barnum & Bailey

2011-05-04T09:15:00.000-05:00

It's official. I am now the ring-master of my very own 3-ring circus. Holy moles. My friend Erin always has me giggling when she refers to her 2 little boys as her clowns, but I don't giggle anymore. I totally get it. Geeze.

I really think I jinxed myself in the beginning. When asked how it was with two kiddos, I said, "Oh, it really isn't that bad. I think it was the hardest going from no kids to Lou than from Lou to two." And, I really still do think that is true. But I may have changed my mind on the whole "it really isn't that bad" as the past 3 days I have had my rear-end handed to me on a stick by my two chirrens.

First I will talk about what I refer to as "suicide hour." It is also known as "the witching hour," "unhappy hour" and "sundowners." It is inevitable. Around 5-6pm daily all shit hits the fan. And I am not kidding. NOTHING and I mean NOTHING can make baby Nash happy. And he is generally a happy-go-lucky kid. So, if you live in the area of Fondren...you see me every.single.day out and about with the chirrens packed in the Uncle Bob, strolling....for hours. Not kidding. Some days I put the earphones in my ears and get my run on and worry not about the 4 year old running her mouth a mile a minute or the 11 week old that may or may not be crying. I know he is fed and dry...and as Dr. Smith says, I am letting him 'work it out.' But usually, as soon as I put him in the stroller and buckle him - he is good to go. Just don't stop the movement. I mean, if I ever questioned spending a large amount on a Bob double, I no longer. I have gotten every single penny out of it during suicide hour alone. Best purchase. Well, for some reason....suicide hour the last 3 days has made me twitch. Maybe because I know that the hubs wont be home until around 9 pm or so. But, as I type...I see the hour is approaching and I fear today as my 11 week old has YET to nap. Yep, 'tis true. Ugh.

Another thing about having 2 kiddos, I always said that it is more about being coordinated than anything for survival. This holds very true, as you have to be able to juggle what is going on with the 2 before you can think about going anywhere or trying to plan around something. This brings me back to my role as the ring leader. Maybe I am not that uber-stylish vest-wearing leader, but instead, perhaps I am that clown that is so uncoordinated, and falls down and has all these weird things happen to him and rides that super small bike and all the people laugh at. Yes, that is more of who I am these days. Humor for those who are watching. And speaking of...how about I fill you in on the events of the circus today.

As I said earlier...the babe hasn't napped. NOTHING is seeming to make him happy today, just overall fussiness. I am thinking it is due to a different brand formula, so I make a note that I must hit up the Target (for the THIRD day in a row, mind you - and before I had 2, I wouldn't have minded...now it is always a race to see how quickly I can get in and out) to get formula today. Well, after I had gotten everyone fed lunch, dressed, etc. I figured we would go out to Dogwood to stroll and enjoy the beautiful weather and then hit Target on way home. Hmmmmm. Seems like a grand idea, right?

Enter TJ Maxx, I am almost drooling since I haven't been in one in like a year. Nash is being so sweet in his seat in the stroller and Lou is walking along-side singing to Nash. I am not minding the fact that she is singing "Poker Face" at the top of her lungs, but just glad no one is crying. So, I decide to be brave and walk down to Bath & Body Works to get more wallflowers to make my poor, filthy house smell nice. And this is when things started to go downhill. Nash starts screaming in Bath & Body Works, so I check out as quick as I can and try to get stroller out of store without knocking anything over. This is my Combi stroller that houses the car seat...the wheels and I are NOT friends if you catch my drift. Well, walking back to the car a certain toddler decides that she cannot walk anymore and that her legs are falling off so she just sits down in the middle of the sidewalk. And screams and whines and carries on. So, to avoid yanking her up by the elbow and getting stares from all those around and maybe even a call into child and family services, I tell her that if she gets up and walks the rest of the way I will buy her a new pair of flip-flops at Target. For everyone that knows Lou and her shoe-fetish, this perks her up real quick-like and we continue walking back to the car. By the time we get there, Nash is crying again and so is Lou. Sometimes it is just contagious. I fight the urge to cry myself and load everyone into their seats, get everyone buckled and now that 15 minutes has passed, I get in my seat and crank up Remy and head to Target.

We get to Target and Lou breaks down when I tell her she needs to ride in the buggy. I mean, didn't she remember her meltdown and Oscar-worthy performance in front of Belk when she no longer wanted to walk? Well, I gave in to avoid another Oscar-worthy performance and she got to walk while I put Nash back in stroller. I know that I have about 30 minutes before he needs to eat again, so I figure I can get in and out and then head on home - but I have a bottle just in case, so no worries. Well, I walk in and hear all the pretty voices singing to me like they do every time I walk in the doors, and I have a moment of not thinking and decide I want to try on a swimsuit. You see, those voices make you do crazy things. WHAT THE CRAP was I thinking? Not only because I am still all post-partum and jiggly and still a weird shape and size...but two kids, one on the verge of an eating-meltdown in the dressing room? Well, I did it. We stopped on the way to let Lou pick out some flip-flops and Nash melts in the shoe department. So, I get out his bottle and attempt to feed him while pushing stroller. This doesn't work since I have said before I am NOT friends with the wheels on this thing, so I sit on a shoe-tryer-on thingy and feed him while I let Lou have a BALL in the shoes. After Nash decides he doesn't want to eat anymore, we go to the dressing room. Thankful, of so thankful for the family-sized rooms! Let me back up and tell you a rule that I have at Target, grocery store, etc. Louisa MUST tell me when walking in the doors if she needs to potty. Get where I am going with this one? Yep...I get undressed and ready to try on swimsuit in my moment of losing my shizzle and mind. Lou decides to try on her flip flops, Nash is cooing away. Fun times. THEN it happens, "Mommy, I NEED to go potty." And by the way she is dancing around, I know that she cannot wait. Ugh. So, I put all my clothes back on all the while telling her I am disappointed since she didn't tell me when we walked into the store and get all my items hung back on the hangers (I must confess, I hate hanging up bathing suits) and get ready to steer the stroller out and back to the front of the store. Louisa is all but wetting her pants at this point she has to go so bad and then I realize that she not only took off socks and shoes to try on her flip flops, but her leggings too. WHAT the crap. So, I pull her leggings on her real quick and shove her feet into her boots and we basically sprint to the front of the store hoping that the family bathroom is open. Well, don't you know that little miss priss must help me steer and push the stroller, and I have her off to the side so I don't trip over her and apparently her shoes are NOT friends with the darn wheels of the stroller either as the front wheel hits her silver rain boot and bounces - almost knocking Nash who isn't strapped in clear out the side...and of course Lou onto the floor. I am having flash backs of running her over with a shopping cart but thankfully, she jumps up and hollers, "I'm okay!" Phew. Aha, the family bathroom! We go in and I realize that I have just brought all my merchandise into the bathroom. Not wanting to be taken away for shoplifting, I pull Lou's pants back up and run outside to customer service to drop off my items so I am not in trouble. Get back in the bathroom and try to pull pants down off a jitterbug and JUST barely get her up on the pot in time. Phew.

We leave the bathroom, grab my items and head BACK to the dressing room. I undress again and try on swimsuits and as I am looking at my reflection I am thinking this suit is very NOT flattering and although I am still jiggly, I am seeing some progress and almost get happy until... "Ewwww, gross Mommy! Put your clothes back on. That is not pretty on you." Again Louisa, thanks for your honesty. Oh, and Nash is melting by this point...so I rush and put on all my clothes again and hang up all the stoooooooopid pieces of the suit while silently (maybe) calling it bad names and head to the checkout. On our way, I have a baby crying, a toddler singing "Poker Face" again at the tops of her lungs and what can only be a look of panic on my face. Definitely not the ring-leader, but instead the clown.

Well, we survive the screaming baby in the checkout line, and then sit down in the cafe area to feed him a bottle that he couldn't be more uninterested in if I tried. So, we take the 15 minute plunge and load up into the car and head back home. Nash has now decided he wants his bottle now so is screaming and Lou is screaming about being hungry too. I hand her a container with some snacks and get on the phone with a dear friend who will hopefully still talk to me after today when I had to yell at my toddler throughout the entire conversation. Because, don't you know that Louisa dropped her snack container. And obviously to her it is a natural disaster and so she screamed like someone was murdering her. Well, this caused a very flustered driver to almost wreck into the car on the other side of her. And, she continued to scream the whole way home. And then Nash joined in. And so did I. Maybe, I know I wanted to.

I am home now. And I have both of my chirrens in their bedrooms with the doors shut and the monitors turned down low for I need to have some quiet, non-stressful moments to myself before the next show is to occur.

Note to self....WHY do I venture in public with these two? Glutton I tell you, over and again.

For more humor, this is a quickie about a "Louisa-ism" that happened on the way to school the other day. There was a lady jogging that is very muscular and had short hair. Well, as we rode by her, Lou says, "Mommy, is that a man dressed up like a lady? What is that called again?" And I am in the front seat, coffee coming out my nose and shaking thinking my child is about to say the word transvestite and wondering what in the hell I am supposed to do if she does when she says, "Oh yeah, costume. That's what it is called." Phew. Oh my word. I can return to breathing.

On a sweet note, I do really, really adore my two kids. They drive me nutso, but they also bring me such joy. That is a mother's saving grace I think. If they didn't have those good moments, I don't think we would do it again. But I will talk about a favorite time of mine. Rest assured it is NOT suicide hour, although I do enjoy getting outside for a few hours and exercising. I usually will feed Nash a bottle after Lou and I have already eaten lunch. After the bottle, we all hang out in his room for about an hour before afternoon nap time. I love this time. Hands-down, fave time of day. Watching my two kids play together and just watching how Nash looks at Lou is like a drug. Nash usually thinks I hung the moon...until Louisa comes into the picture. He just grins at her like no other. And she is so good with him. She will read to him, teach him about animals and letters and tell him stories. Melting of the heart occurs instantly. I try and keep my camera handy during this time since this is the happiness that I need to remember when I am in the circus ring about to lose my mind. Just thought I'd share a few with you...

And this is why I am so glad to have my camera handy. To capture moments like this one.

He gets it honestly. His momma has been known to pout on occasion. :) I could EAT him. But the best part about this pic is why he is doing this....she is cropped out, but Lou was singing to him. Hehehehe.

I hear movement in the rooms, the show must go on...

How To: Concrete Counter tops

2011-04-22T18:57:00.007-05:00

Yipee for my very first ever guest blogger!

We all know how I brag on my uber-awesome husband and how handy he is not only in the OR but also around the house. Without him, we simply couldn't do all of the renovations that we do. He's pretty cool. AND, I am gonna brag a little more - just because I can. There is a dress that I really, really wanted but would never buy for myself just because, well - you know as a Mom, you don't buy clothes for yourself. You wear things that you've had since high school and take the background as your chirrens look all cute. Well....he bought it for me. He got online and ordered it (after he sneakily asked me my size) and surprised me with it. I mean, ladies...he IS taken. Thanks. I'm just so proud.

Anyways - he poured our concrete counter tops in our kitchen and they are fantabulous. And we have had so many people ask about them, that I asked him to write it down so I could put up the how-to on the blog. I mean, people...you CAN do this! And not just by paying someone $100 a square foot!!

But since we all know I can sometimes be a control freak and it is my blog, I added my two-cents in italics. You know, just to make the twitches calm as I gave up the reins for my blog. So, here goes.

Welcome to the exciting world of concrete counter tops!

First, let me say that my writing doesn’t compare to Amy’s. (whatevs, he uses punctuation, and I mean properly like he's supposed to) I would love to tell you about Louisa and I’s trip to taco bell (shizzles. busted. we eat way healthy people) the other day. However, the discussion about how Honduras and the airport aren’t the same just wouldn’t be as funny if Amy doesn’t tell it.

So I will stick to writing about our foray into making concrete counter tops. It wasn’t as hard as I thought that it would be (there is nothing this cracker can't do); however, they are as heavy as you can imagine. Plus the costs are not bad at all. I think that we did our whole kitchen for under $200 not including the tile back splash. So here is my best attempt at describing what I did for anyone else feeling up to the challenge!

Step 1 – remove the old counter tops and measure, measure, measure.

If you house if like ours, old and not level or straight (shantified...but it's fab, so buy it when it's on the market next year - it's harmless character), then you may want to use the old counter tops as a template for the new ones. This will help you to duplicate the size. At this point you may want to ensure that the base counters can support the weight of the new concrete.

Actually the first thing I did was buy a book on concrete counter tops. I bought mine at Lowes for about $20 and it was worth every penny.

It goes into much more depth that I do here. In short, there are 2 ways that concrete counter tops can be made – either poor in place or build them in a form. I chose the latter method in hopes of keeping as much mess out of the kitchen (and keeping the peace in our house). (I mean, dripping sugar he's so sweet...plus he doesn't like my psychoses brought on by reno dust in my house)

Step 2 – build the form

For me, this was the toughest and most time consuming part (insert bad words here). I used melamine to build the form. For those not familiar with melamine, it is the stuff of prefabed closet shelves and dry erase boards. By using melamine, you can poor the counter top upside down and produce a very finished surface without much work. You can buy melamine at Lowes, which is where I got all my supplies. (Lowes is to Byron what Target is to me) I went with 1 ½ inch thick counter tops which is a common thickness. It makes for a strong counter top without being too heavy.

I ripped the melamine shelves into 1 ½ strips with the table saw. I then cut these to length understanding that the inner dimension of the form is the size of the counter top. I then secured these strips to 4x8 melamine sheet (the dry erase board) which is only about 3/16 thick so I stabilized it with some old plywood. One tricky part here is making sure the form is square and level.

Step 3 – mix / poor the concrete

The reference I used recommended pure Portland cement; however, I used a half and half mix of pure Portland cement and quickcrete 5000. (because he's handy like that) This has some small pebbles in it but I think makes for a stronger counter top that just Portland cement. When mixing the concrete, adding too much water will make the mix soupy and weak. Fill the bottom half of the form with concrete and try to tamp it down to get rid of any air bubbles (these can ruin your counter top). Once the form is about half full you should add some metal support for strength. I chose metal lath on the two smaller counter tops and ¼ inch rebar on the other one. Once the metal is in, fill the form the rest of the way.

Step 4 – tamp it down

Begin by screeding the top of the concrete. (WTH?) A screed is just a board levels the concrete out. (oh, yeah...I knew that) Next, I used and orbital sander (anything that vibrates will work)

and moved it around the form to allow the air bubbles to rise to the top. This step is crucial. Not only will bubbles weaken the counter top, they will cause it to be porous and unsightly. (this has me giggling) Once the water rises to the top of the concrete and then disappears, you can use a trowel to smooth out the top (which will be the under-surface when you are finished) so that the counter top rests evenly on the base counters.

Step 5 – remove the form

I let the counter tops sit for a couple of days before removing the form. Begin by removing the screws of the sides and then gently pry the counter top up until you can get your finger under it and flip it over. You may need help depending on the size since these jokers (crackers) are heavy. (Note - ask your 9 month preggo wife) I then let them cure for a couple of extra days – there will still be some water that will evaporate. Once they are fully cured, they are ready to be set in place. I didn’t do anything but set them on the base counter because mine are so heavy they won’t move anywhere.

Step 6 – finish them

I used an epoxy finish designed for counter tops that you can buy at Lowes.
I tried a penetrating sealer but it wasn’t going to stand up to Louisa. (no joke) The epoxy was easy to apply, is impregnable, and provides a nice shine that Amy seems to like. (is it obvious who wears the britches? hehe, just kidding. it isn't me, but sometimes he lets me think i do) Just follow the directions on the box and viola, you have completed the counter tops! Fast food may be in order as the epoxy takes a couple of days to cure. (aha, no wonder we were eating taco bell...hehe)

The good thing about concrete counter tops is that they weren’t too hard to make and look a million times better than our old off white Formica! (hell to the yes!!) They are supposed to be non-uniform as you see above. That isn't moisture, but difference in color of the stone. And while they weren’t expensive, if you mess up you will likely have a 75 pound dud that you will have to find some where to dispose. My dud is still sitting outside…(haaaa, 'tis true)

I mean, awesome right! Now how many of you are gonna do these now? You should!!!

Oh, and try this at home. We are not professionals. Hehe.

Head Over Heels

2011-04-20T09:45:00.003-05:00

Do you remember back when I first found out I was having a little boy? I do. I was scared to death. I don't know boys, I knew girls and I knew that I wasn't really into change. I kept wondering if the next ultrasound it would show that baby was a girl, etc. I was scared.

I had numerous mommies of boys tell me that as soon as that little boy got here I would be in love. I would be smitten and never again wonder about having a little boy.

Oh, I doubted these girls. You see, I really, really thought that I would be the exception. That I wouldn't really jive with a boy. Well.....

2 months later and I am smitten. Head over heels in love with this little boy. He can do no wrong and he has me wrapped around his finger like no other. It's almost embarrassing. This face right here

makes my day. He knows how to work his Mommy. I am mushy when he looks at me and smiles that toothless grin that I could just eat. Now that he is talking and cooing, I swear I could squeeze him. Just eat him up. It's bad. And you know what - although I know he loves his Mommy, methinks I know someone he loves just a smidgen more.

Louisa. He is SMITTEN with her. If he is awake, and he hears her voice he is suddenly looking all over for her. Loves her. He just grins at her and she can do no wrong. Yesterday, I had him on his little mat playing and Louisa was down there with him singing to him and teaching him animals in a book. I almost lost it. I became that uber-emotional-prideful mom that teared up. Watching my 2 kids playing together almost made me high. Is that weird? I never, ever in a thousand years thought I would be that emotional Mom. But, my heart soared and I was on cloud 9. I just couldn't stop looking at them. They are as different as night and day, but they look just alike. Watching them interact gives you that feeling in which you want more and more and more...then you think about 3 years down the road when they will start fighting too. And then you think, hmmmm....Norris party of 4 is just fine. But I am so thankful that I am able to stay home with these kiddos so that I can witness moments like that. I wish that I could make a part of my brain this memory-safety-deposit-box in which I can store times like that and never, ever forget them.

Okay, enough mush for me. But really, how can you NOT love these two? Look at those noses, exact replicas of one another!

Until next time when there will be no mush...but a DIY for how to make concrete counter tops from my guest blogger, my hubs! :)

Smack-Down

2011-04-12T12:43:00.003-05:00

This Momma has HAD it with poor behavior.

The sass coming from the mouth is enough to make my toes curl. The disobedience is making my hair fall out. The manipulation is making my eyes cross. Arguing with a blade of grass is causing my skin to wrinkle. Having to have the last word is slowly making me twitch. Refusal to follow the rules is raising my blood pressure.

And I am not talking about myself. Believe it or not, it isn't me this time. Yes...I do possess all of the above qualities - but let's face it, I am the grown-up...I make the rules now. :)

I am talking about this sweet little thing.

We are having some issues in our house with discipline. It didn't just start with the arrival of little boy sweetness in February. It has been going on since, ummmm....4 years ago. Really. She make look just like Byron, but unfortunately...she acts just like me and methinks that is why we butt heads so bad all.day.long.

But, this...this little $8 investment is gonna turn things around.

Did you ever know how cool magnetic stars are? Well, if you are unsure...come on to my house as I am talking them up like they are $100 bills. We are going to start living by these things. Or else...Momma is gonna go live at the loony bin.

Wanna join me?

The Corner Grocery

2011-04-10T20:16:00.004-05:00

You see this...

I earned every.last.drop plus a few more. All in a simple trip to the grocery store.

One would think that I would have learned by now that I seem to be that character from Peanuts (Charlie Brown) that has the dirt cloud following him. Ever since I had Louisa...it is like drama and disaster is around every corner, it follows me. When I walk, I leave a wake of crap behind. Never, ever a dull moment.

But I haven't learned. Instead, I just experience things over and again and blog about them to hopefully entertain all of you. Let's talk about today's grocery trip.

I mean, how hard should a grocery trip be? Really? Ask me before kids and I would say I could do it with eyes closed. Now, let me say I should go with my eyes closed, maybe even blind-folded and in a mask so that no one knows who I am. Maybe like this.

And you know...she wore that the entire grocery trip. She did.

My corner grocery store has been blogged about before. It is more expensive, kinda dirty sometimes, I have to double-check the expiration dates, etc. But it is WAY to convenient for me to pass up. It is right around the corner, they know me there, they help me out with my groceries and the ignore the pile of destruction that I leave behind. For those of you that have been with me for a while...yes, this is the same grocery that Louisa pulled my pants down at. Lovely, so they really know me there.

So, I feed Nash and then get ready to head out the door. This is how I have done every other grocery trip. It's nice. He is asleep by the time I get there, and he sleeps in his car seat the entire time. And this quiet and cooperation makes up for the fact that I no longer have room left in the buggy to put groceries and I have to get creative in where I put things without looking like I am shop-lifting. Well, not today. I get there, put him in his seat in the buggy and he wakes up. So, I plug the mouth with the paci and get maybe 3 minutes out of it. Yes, I could have just left him screaming while I shopped...but I didn't. Instead - I got him out, held him cradled in my arms and had a buggy that was now taken over by an empty car seat. So, much to Louisa's happiness, I told her she could walk (eeeeekkk) so that I could put the carrier in the front part and have the back of the buggy wide open for groceries. Mind you, this store isn't a busy place. That is why I enjoy it. I don't have to worry about moving around peeps the whole time.

Well, let the fun begin. First of all, I quickly realize that I have a buggy that has definitely seen better days. It doesn't steer correctly and the wheels wiggle and carry on like it is their business. So, as I am trying to push it and look over the car seat (remember...I tend to be on the short side) to avoid knocking over any displays - I do the unthinkable. And, oops...I giggled when it happened and I am giggling again. I ran over Louisa. Like - plowed her down. She was face-down on the floor with the buggy over her. Oh dear. So, we all know Lou. Everyone within a 20 mile radius heard about that incident. So, the manager comes over (remember...I told you were are known there) and offers to get me a new cart with a smile he is obviously trying to hold in the giggles as I am bouncing a baby that is half-way dangling in my arms and trying to soothe a 4 year old drama queen with tire-marks on her back. Did I mention she is still wearing the glasses with the nose?

So, I get a new cart. Well, this one isn't as bad...but isn't much better so I just decide to pull it from the back. You know this set me up for numerous times in which the metal part that connects the wheels bumped my achilles and created a bouncing effect for the cart and some choice words from me that is still balancing a newborn, a cart and a 4 year old Groucho Marx. I am over in the produce section trying to figure out what I may want for the week since I realize that I have no clue where my list has gone (I think I lost in in the running over of the toddler incident). I glance to find Louisa right about the time she goes to grab an avocado and say, "ooooh mommy - you lub dese!" Well, you guessed it. It was like a cascade. She couldn't have picked a better avacado to grab if she tried. So, here I am bent over with baby dangling in arms picking up avocados off the ground. Well, Murphy peeks in and makes the paci that is in Nash's mouth fall out...and you know I've blogged before about how those Soothie pacis bounce. Well, I am chasing down the paci and here comes the manager again and tells me not to worry - he will get the rest of the produce. I apologize a bazillionk times and I know I am red in the face because I can feel my ears burning. Ugh.

So, we carry on. I make my way down the chip aisle, the lunch meat aisle, pick out some meats for the week and I am doing good. Well, I speak too soon. As I am rounding a corner (I was again pushing from the front, even though I should have learned lesson) and trying to tell Louisa that she doesn't need to help me pull the buggy and that I've got it...I hear it. Boom and then the rolling of canned veggies. We all know my sailor tongue. I had done so well up to this point, and when I peek around the buggy I see an entire display of green beans on the ground and some still rolling. Well, I say it. Shit. And then I stomp my foot and say it again. Well, here comes the manager again and this time he is laughing. I am begging for forgiveness and asking if he is going to ban me from coming again when it happens. Lou walks over to the fallen veggies, stomps her foot, puts her hand on her hip and looks at us and says, "Shit. Shit, shit shit." Dying here. Oh my gosh...dying here. The manager has to turn his back because he is laughing so hard. OH MY GOSH I am mortified. And so, I calmly explain to Lou that Mommy said a bad word she shouldn't have and that I should never say it again and that Lou definitely shouldn't say it when she says (with the manager still in ear-shot), "Oh Mommy, you say dat all the times!" Note to self...soap in the mouth.

It is at this point that I decide I am no longer doing any good at the grocery. I need to leave. I don't have my list so I have no clue of what I need and what I don't. I still have a baby dangling in my arms. I still have Groucho with me and I am defeated. I almost went over to the beer section and grabbed a cold one and popped the top. I think the manager would have encouraged me at that point. So, we head to the check-out line with all our disaster following close. Well, I put Nash back in his seat so I can unload and pay and of course he starts screaming. And this gets looks from others in the store like, "why aren't you picking him up?" "shame on her, why is she letting that baby scream" etc. Crackers. So, I am on the verge of tears anyways, and then Lou decides to push the buggy backwards to me and it rolls over my poor flip-flopped toe that I have just recently lost my toenail and it is super painful. I cringe, and somehow manage to pay and get out to my car in one piece.

Then, as I am walking my buggy back to the designated spot in the lot this lady comes up and says, "Honey. PLEASE let me take this. Bless your heart. You and all those kids." Wow. I really only have 2. Do I look that bad? But, I thanked her and didn't mind the pity she gave me.

So, you see my friends...this Corona is just fine right now. In fact, I may need a few more. I mean...my toe does hurt. :)

Oh, and you know Nash fell asleep before I even got home. Maybe 2 miles away. Little stinker. And I think there was a lot more that happened in this horrendous trip...but I am done thinking about it for the moment. Maybe I need to give that particular store some space...just like I did for a while after Lou pulled my pants down. I thought for sure I blogged about that time, but I couldn't find it just now. Oh wells....time for another bevo.

Noteworthy

2011-04-07T09:44:00.002-05:00

Okay, I promised last post to share with you some awesome stationery that I got in the mail from an old sorority sister. I almost fell out when I opened it. I loved it. And then I saw she did them herself and I loved them even more. You know me, I am a crafting dork. Anyone that takes the time to make something from the heart just melts me. Well, then I thought...wow, this girl is awesome because not only does she have a newborn but 2 other kiddos at home! But she says this is her creative outlet and something that she enjoys doing so she makes the time. Good girl. With that inspiration...I am gonna try my darnedest to get up in my sewing room today!!

These notes are awesome. They are hand-crafted, hand-stamped, hand-colored and amazing. She pays so much attention to detail and they even come with matching stamped envelopes! I haven't put all of them up here, but I had a hard time choosing faves. I even told her that I plan on framing some to put in his room! She said I wouldn't be the first.

Well, I was way happy when she agreed to let me 'advertise' her because these are waaaay too cute not to have. She says she does all different designs and with her custom-making each and every one, I am sure that the possibilities are endless!

I mean...look at these! I want to eat them they are so cute (and I am staaaarving, must eat lunch soon)!

Here is her info. If you know of someone having a bebe soon, or a little one needing some stationery, or if you need some...give her a holler! You will be so glad you did.

PS - photos taken on my concrete counters that I am in lurve with that my hubby did all by self! I have had so many people ask about them and how to do, etc....he has agreed to write it all down so I can blog it. Wahoooo! Yay for DIY blogs. :)

"Dad, I Miss My 3's."

2011-04-04T15:54:00.010-05:00

First of all, let me just say nap training day 1 is kicking my bootay. It is so hard to put the paci back in little sweetness's mouth while he is sticking that bottom lip out so far and looking pitiful. I just want to pick him up and snuggle. But no, must hold my ground. Go back to sleep little boy. As I type, he is screaming in the background. Ugh. I don't understand how Byron and I produce chirrens with no need for sleep. Chaps my rear. He has slept for a total of may an hour and a half all day. Grrrrrrr. And yes, he is dry and full. Promise.

UPDATE: since it now takes a few days to compile a post (haha) it turns out that my sweet man was screaming because he didnt feel well. :( That mean-ole-unwelcomed fever came & snuck up on us and is making baby sweetness not feel his best...along with some snot & a "post naval dip" (as Lou calls it) cough.

Second of all - Louisa turned 4 last week. How in the hizz did that happen? She actually told Byron one day that she "missed her 3's." It was like the day after she turned 4. :) She is so cute. And so bad. Someone told me that 2's and 3's were bad...but the 4's were so great. Well, unless it takes some time - I might need to find that person and wring their necks. We have seen no change in behavior, if there is any change...it is for the worse. I cannot get over the amount of sass, back-talk and disobedience that comes from her. No matter the discipline. People think that I must just let her walk all over me, but no sirree. We discipline, she just could care less. The child would argue with a blade of grass. Have NO clue where she gets all of that from. Geeze.

Let's see...week in review since I have been so busy twiddling my toes and eating Bon-Bons and not blogging. :)

Fondren's 1st Annual Zippity Doo Dah Parade featuring the Sweet Potato Queens. This was way fun. And I think I enjoyed it mostly because we could walk to it. Also, it was really, really nice to see all of the turn-out supporting not only the Batson chirrens hospital but Fondren as well. Louisa was a bit confrused when it came to the Sweet Potato Queens, but I had read a book or two so I knew the eccentricities that would be out and about. All she kept talking about after was a man that was wearing pink high heels. Ha! She fully enjoyed the parade on Byron's shoulders. Nash and I stood back from the crowd mostly to avoid having his eyeball punctured by bead throwing. I also saw some pork-rinds being thrown. Made me giggle. Then I read where the SPQ used to throw sweet potatoes at un-expecting by-standers. Haaaaaa! That would have made my day. :)

This is how Miss Lou does a parade.

And this is how she does soccer.

If she gets my athletic ability, she better make sure she looks nice because the skilllllzzzz might not be there. In fact, one day when Byron & I were swinging in the hammock we asked Lou to run go get something & between you & I, there was about 5% running and 95% sashaying going on, pinkies out and all. Gotta love Lou.

Lou turned 4. I am still trying to process that one. Yikes. But she did, and we had a bakery-themed birthday party for her and a few other little girls. The ironic part is....her Momma (who did all the baking) is not a baker. At all. I have a reputation of burning cinnamon rolls and slice and bake cookies. However, I have found a crutch to my ignorance of the oven. Parchment paper. Wow. I actually made cookies without burning them. Watch out Martha, if I ever find time...maybe I will start baking. Nah, never mind. It is waay to easy to go to Campbell's around the corner. She is such a serious child sometimes. This is how she looked when everyone sang to her. Geeze.

Speaking of baking...methinks Louisa Kate may not have a future in baking either. This is her creation. She had to make sure every last square inch of whatever sugary creation is under all the icing was covered by a jelly bean. No, I didn't let her eat. I think her teeth would have fallen straight out.

After the party, we all crashed.

Well, for like 5 minutes maybe until Nash decided that he wasn't really up for napping. Boo! I mean, even Barbie and Polly Pocket couldn't even stay standing!

We started cloth diapering the cutest booty in the house. Noo, not mine. Nash is now a cloth diped bebe. So far, I am loving it. It is not nearly as hard as I thought it was going to be. I think the hardest part was all the research on the front end. However, for those of you out there that maybe thinking of CD'ing, I am gonna make it easy for you as I will be posting a blog ALL about it soon. You know, when I am not eating Bon-Bons and twirling my hair. I have my friends Anna and Lauren to thank as they have helped me out a ton with research, info and a learning curve. I mean...how can you resist this?

Louisa informed me that my cooking was apparently sub-par. I was getting her dressed and she asked if she could eat at "Deana and Beana's" (our fabulous neighbors) every night. I asked her why, and she cocked her head to the side, put her hands out to talk and said...."Ummm, because eberyfing you cook kinda grosses me out." Honesty is always the best policy, right? And not long after she informed me of this, she began to tell me that it was necessary to remove all the polish from her fingers and toes and re-do them all since one nail had gotten chipped (ah-hem....picked) off. I was half-listening as I tend to do oh so often with her until she insisted that I look, and my dear friends....this is what the sight in front of me looked like.

Oops. Must have a discussion about a certain middle finger and how it is not nice to put it up alone. I mean, how do I back that up to the child that asks why when I ask her to breathe! Oh, and the sassy look on her face - that is like an all the time look now. Grrrr. I know she is going through some adjusting with Nash, but the sass, defiance and arguing is k-i-l-l-i-n-g me. For reals. But honestly, when I am not about to string her up by her toes...the child takes my breath away. Like this pic. I cannot stop looking at it.

Tornado season. Gag. I have blogged before about how this little Momma is not a fan. Well, April is always a fun month for these little boogers to creep up. And Byron is NEVER home when they tend to come. But, on Monday I knew we were supposed to have bad weather, so I went ahead and had all flashlights and pillows and blankets in the hallway as well as Murray's carrier since she FREAKS when weather gets bad. Well, I was sitting on the couch feeding a little boy when I heard them. Those sirens. Ugh, just thinking about the sound makes my skin crawl and the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I wasn't expecting this so quickly - and I have learned before, when you hear the sirens...don't play. Get your bootay in the hall. So, I am running to grab Murray to put in her carrier, corral the labradors off the sofas & a toddler who "UGGGGHHH MOMMY I am NOT finished wif my stickers, otay!" all the while with said infant in arms and a bottle propped between his mouth and my chin. (For all those in health care, forget I just said I had the bottle propped, I've got this, okay?) Well, we all get in the hall and I am shutting doors (only a select number of doors in our house actually shut, one doesn't even have a doorknob, hehe) and asking Louisa for the bazillionth time to sit down and be quiet. And I get my tv set up so I can watch the radar and all is good to go until I realize, crap - what do I do with a newborn? How do I duck and cover him without risking suffocation? Shizzles. I hadn't prepared for that! So, I ran and grabbed his car seat and just happened to look out the window and almost fell out when I saw all the trees in our backyard swaying like they were pieces of pine straw in the wind and buckled him in and sat him in the hall. I figure, these seats are supposed to with-stand automobile impact, certainly this will work now??? I get him all settled, figure out how I will prop pillows over the handle and sit down and let my blood pressure begin to fall just a bit as I listen to the wind howling outside...and even worse, the sound of my house rocking in the wind. It is the eeriest sound ever. Well, I happen to look over at little firecracker, and she is rocking on the floor. Shit. I ask the dreaded question. "Lou, do you have to go potty?" Of course she did. And she had to go RIGHT then. Well, you know that our bathroom has a window (of course) and you KNOW that she decided to take her sweet time while I am on the verge of a slight panic attack. Ugh, after a few hundred times of her whining and telling me she was bored, the sirens stopped and the bad weather had passed. Thankfully, oh so thankfully without throwing off any tornadoes. Geeze. It was for shizzle beer-thirty then.

Speaking of beer-thirty...ha, just kidding it is only lunch time but I just heard the washer stop and I must get on it all before Nash wakes and I am unable to do anything without sweet bebe in arms. He does love his Mommy. :)

So, stay tuned for a cloth diapering post and also some FABULOUS hand-made note cards that a sorority sister is making that you MUST have. Trust me.

Louisa...the Fun Never Ends.

2011-03-25T13:08:00.008-05:00

So, I left out one of the lessons that I have learned in the last 5 weeks. Here we go. A new baby is like a cat. Or, at least like every cat I have ever had. As soon as I clean out my cat's litter box, she goes in and poopies in it. It NEVER fails. Happens every time. Well, Nash is the same. Minus the litter box, paws and fur. As soon as I change the boy's diaper (the whole time scared in my skivvies that his you-know-what is going to get me again) he poos. Never fails. This will make it very interesting come soon when I start the cloth diapering. I may try to see if I can 'fake him out' somehow. Or, just litter-box train him. :)

And I jinxed myself the other day. Something awful too. I was just thinking that it had been some time since Louisa had done something to make me cringe. Then I realized this is probably because I hardly ever go out in public anymore! But, she paid me back today. Such a sweetheart. Well, let me introduce to you my '3 strikes you are OUT and have lost window-rolling-down privileges' story. She came back in full force. Yay for me.

Let's rewind back a month or two since I know I put it on Facebook, but don't think I blogged it. We were at the bank drive-thru and the sweet guy always gives Lou a sucker. Well, I always roll down the window so she can tell the guy thank you since he is so sweet to do that for her. So, one day when he gave her a purple sucker and I rolled down the window this is what came out instead of a sweet thank-you. I will put all caps to imitate the volume in her voice, as I saw even the people inside the bank look. "I DON'T LIKE THE PURPLE SUCKERS. DEY ARE SOOOO NASTY! I ONLY WANT THE RED SUCKERS PLEASE!" So, poor sweet bank teller who looks like he doesn't have children of his own yet, or at least a Louisa, ducks, fumbles and grabs a red sucker and puts it in the box as quick as he can to give to me. I am mortified and angry and from then on out he only gives her red suckers. And he smirks every time. I think he feels sorry for me. Ha. And you know it, she complains every time because she wants a purple one. One would have thought that was lesson enough about rolling down her window.

Nope. I did it again. Once again, we were at the bank drive-thru. However, we now have a new teller...but Louisa has a reputation so she still only gets the red suckers. :) This guy is even younger and for shizzle doesn't have kids at home. So, I roll down her window so she can tell him thank-you and instead this is what he gets. "Wow, your hair sure looks funny! It makes you look like an alien, hahaha!" Holy shit balls and fire! Really Louisa!!?? This is when you wish the windows had a speed roll-up on them. I turned about 50 shades of red, apologized and couldn't tell if his laughter was real or not...and then I drove away, very quickly and pondered if I could swap banks. I no longer let her say thank you at the bank, I say it for her - but the sweet teller always waves to her and smirks. I think we both have a reputation there now. Lou for her fiery-ness, and I think they just feel sorry for me. Hehe. So, that was strike #2 and yet I still didn't learn my lesson.

Now to today. She had been talking about boobies all morning. I had been on the phone with my fabulous lactation consultant (who Lou calls the 'booby lady') and don't you know I have round 2 of Mastitis. REALLY Murphy!!?? Anyways, boobs had been the talk of the morning. Well, when we were in the car she was telling me that the reason I got strawberry milk from mine is because they were pink, and she is right....they are. She then out of the blue tells me that hers are black and that she gets chocolate milk from hers. I am driving, and honestly half-listening to her (since she talks non-stop in the car) and just saying, 'yes' or 'sure' or 'you're right' and not really paying attention. Well, we are in the Wendys drive-thru and it is beautiful outside so she had asked if I would roll down her window. I obliged as I had forgotten the other incidents and have been living free of 'Louisa incidents' for some time. AND....then it happened. The lady that was handing me my food was African American, and Louisa hung out her window the best she could in her seat and said (are you ready??), "Do you have chocolate milk that comes out of your boobies?" Holy shiznit-no-mam batman!! Are you kidding???? I roll the window up and almost catch her fingers and thankfully, oh so thankfully the lady is also taking orders and doesn't hear her. Strike #3 and she is OUT. No more windows down for Louisa Kate. Wowsers.

And more Louisa...

Remember this post in which the tabby cat cut Louisa's hair? I still have no confession, from Louisa or Murray - but it is hair, and it grew. Well, it seems as though the kitty struck again. This time during nap time. And I say the word 'nap' very loosely. Yesterday during Lou's nap time which was quite noisy despite the child 'sleeping' which she swears up and down she did. Well, she comes down the hallway dressed in clothes from her closet that were on hangers. First time for me to get mad. We have a rule that she can dress herself, but she is not allowed to get things off hangers. It just makes a HUGE mess that quite frankly drives me nutty. So, I was upset about that and asked her why she disobeyed me and got clothes out of her closet. "I didn't Mommy. Murray got them for me!" This is funny, not only because Murray is a cat...but she was asleep on the couch the entire time. I told this to Lou and she said, "Wells, you must not have watched her the whole time becaws she came in my room. She was also the one that made it messy and played in my toys." Crap. I had just cleaned her room, why do I bother? Well, I do. So - I go back to her room and sure enough...everything that I put away that morning was out.

So, I said..."Louisa, Murray didn't mess up your room. You did." "Oh no I didn'ts, I was asleep." Rolling my eyes now and just over it all and I tell her I know she didn't nap and I am upset that she is not telling me the truth and blah, blah, blah. So, I ask her to start cleaning it up and then I look closely at her and see something odd. I ask her to come closer, and she gets a look of "oh shiznit" on her face and walks slowly to me. I ask her to turn around and there it was.

Great. This looks like loads of fun. I ask her how she got the comb stuck in her hair. I am sure you can guess her answer. "I didn'ts Mommy. I was napping." So, then I jokingly said, "Oh yes, how could I forget? It was Murray that did it, right?" And she turned to me with a huge grin and said, "YES Mommy, how did you knows?" Oh my gorsh. This child is a work of art. And I am so sleep-deprived right now I don't even have the energy to fight it. Isn't that awful?

So, in the meantime, I will make sure to keep all eyes on Murray during nap time and keep all windows up. :)

Until next adventure...

All I Really Need to Know...

2011-03-22T18:00:00.000-05:00

I have learned in the last 5 weeks. Really. Well, somewhat. :)

Some sweetness, just real quick-like.

What a ride. Believe it or not, I honestly think that the actual transition from 1 kid to 2 isn't as bad as it is from 0 to 1. With that said - I am still having my booty kicked left and right here at the Norris house. As soon as I come up for air and have a good come-back plan, one of the two chirrens reminds me otherwise. But, since I just wrote a novel on boobs, I figured I would bullet-list this one to make it more user-friendly, AND I am so sleepy I cannot fathom paragraphs and punctuation.

So, here we go - my lessons the past 5 weeks.

I was sadly mistaken every time that I said my 3 year old was difficult. I just didn't know any better. Yes, she is a handful and makes me work extra hard, but how lovely is it that she is somewhat self-sufficient. I never realized how nice it was that she watched Mickey Mouse while eating breakfast while I showered, did dishes and laundry and sometimes ran vacuum if I was feeling extra spunky. Until sweet little Nash came along, I had forgotten how nice it was to do house-chores ALL BY SELF. Now, I load dishwasher, washer/dryer, etc. with a baby dangling from my arms. And he seems to love it. So, whatever works. Maybe this is good training to have him help around the house once he starts walking. Hmmm.

I will not go into detail on this one since I just posted about it, but if there is an issue with breast-feeding...I had it. Goodness gracious what a roller coaster.

Along with breast-feeding issue, have you ever realized that EVERYTHING has milk in it? I surely didn't until I had to fore-go dairy. I mean, really. I went to make a BLT one day and realized that my wheat bread had whey in it. REALLY? So, I ate a BLT with lettuce as my 'bread.' Awesome, right? Wrong. And when we were stopped at a gas station while I was nursing Nash the lady in the car next to me was eating a Snickers bar. Never in my life have I remembered wanting a Snickers more. Of course, I heard a voice in my head mockingly saying 'milk chocolate' and I wanted to cut the voice in my head and jump out of my car and into the ladies car and take her out and eat her Snickers. I think she was taunting me. Crazy what dairy-deprivation will do to a girl.

Speaking of dairy...does anyone know, does chicken have dairy in it? Hehe, thought you would like that one Beana!

Newborn photography is not for the amateur. Holy junks. I finally caved the other day and tried to take pics of the little man so maybe I could get around to an announcement (I might have one done for Christmas cards, hehe) and let me just say, oh dear me. By the time you get them situated and back up for a shot - they have moved or made a yucky face or opened their eyes to give you the lovely cross-eyed look

(which i do have a soft spot for). So, it may be a few months before I capture an announcement-worthy shot. Haha. Once again, girlys...appreciate the junk out of your professional photogs, they work HARD for their money!

Captain Jack Sparrow. Let me just say, I would be super excited if he-himself were at my house. I love me some Johnny Depp and when he is cast as CJS, I swoon. However, it is not Johnny at my house playing CJS, but instead Nash. I think many babies suffer from CJS syndrome. Let me explain. Baby needs to go to sleep. You can tell they are fighting it but just don't want to fall asleep anywhere else but your arms. Can you blame them? This usually is more common at night, especially the wee hours. Well, you rock and you bounce and you sway and you 'shhhh' and you bounce more and finally have a baby that is sleeping sound and breathing regularly. Well, you go to put them in their crib and THE EXACT moment you put them down, Captian Jack Sparrow happens. One eye opens and peeps at you and seems to say, "Yo-ho cracker, you better pick me up again or the wrath is coming. Parlay." I mean, the instant. So, you find yourself with 'sleeping' babe again in arms and bouncing and cooing and singing and swaying and working on those calf muscles at 3 am.

Infomercials really are funny. Especially in the wee hours when nothing else is on but paid-programming and you need to stay awake while nursing. I find it hilarious when the commercial shows how difficult something is to do and then they make their stoopid product seem so amazing. Like this silly purse thing that supposedly is genuine leather and comes in 3 different colors. Wahoo! They show a lady going half-mad when her phone rings and she is all digging through her purse like she is rabid trying to locate the phone. I mean, just call them back when you find it! Please don't compromise your cuteness wearing some awful sling across your body purse with a bazillionk pockets. But wait, it IS genuine leather.....

The adventure that happens before you even step foot out of house. Where you are actually GOING isn't the hard part. It is getting there. In the early weeks when bebe feeds everytime you blink an eye and you run a peep show with boobies out all the time, you must plan to leave the instant he finishes feeding. So, all bags must be packed and by the door. But this is how it rolls at my house. Nash finishes feeding. I hurry and put him in carseat and he instantly starts to scream. I run to the potty just in case and ask Louisa if she needs to go. She swears up and down she doesn't. So we start to head out the door and just as I hit the garage opener, Lou decides that she does need to go potty. Back in the house to take her potty and bebe still screaming his head off. We go to get back in car and I realize that Nash has now poo'd his pants. So, back in the house to change the dipe. Get back in the car and back out of driveway and realize that I have left my phone in the house. Pull back in to get phone. Pull back out of driveway and have Louisa meltdown because she doesn't have her Winnie the Pooh sunglasses. Etc, etc. Sound familiar? By the time the destination is reached, it is time for Nash to eat again. :)

Have you ever realized how high the Soothie brand pacis will bounce on a hardwood floor? If not, come on over. You'd be surprised. They are like a rubber bouncy ball. Then, they roll, over and over and over again. And they always wind up under a sofa. Well, the silicone is just sticky enough to pick up every single piece of animal fur in it's way so when you go to replace said paci in screaming babe's mouth, it appears he has grown a mustache. Sounds gross, right? Yeah, if only my maid would come back to work.

NEVER fear. Your toddler will have to go poo-poo ONLY when you have sat down to nurse baby. And, you just may have a baby that is a very sensitive nurser that doesn't like for you to breathe, much less move when he is on boob. So, you are in position, and in my case...toes curled while sweating and you hear from down the hallway, "Mommy I'm finished! I went tee-tee and poo-poo!" One would think I would just teach the child to wipe the #2 herself, but let me just go ahead to say that on a resident's salary we cannot afford the plumbing disaster that it would bring on. Trust me.

Okay, enough for now. Time to go change out my cabbage leaves. And hit up Sonic happy hour.

Just as a happy, Nash makes this face ALL the time. He reminds me of Kermit the Frog when he does. Such a serious little man!

And this is for those of you that may be missing my sweet Lou showing her rear-end. Literally.

White Flag

2011-03-22T08:55:00.004-05:00

I am not a quitter. In fact, I am so stubborn that I will fight most things out until the end. I always have to have the last word. That is how I roll. I am a hot-headed, determined mess and I usually like to win. I am an AWFUL loser and don't like to lose at all...hence why I hardly ever compete in anything. :) In a nut-shell, I tend to be a fire-ball at 4'11".

But, this time I quit. The white flag has been thrown up with my head dropped in defeat. I lost. I give-in.

However, I am not sure who I "lost" to. Society? Other mom's judgments? The 'norm'?

What in the world am I talking about you ask.....breastfeeding. Yes, this post is about breastfeeding. So, if you are a boy or a person who has no interest in the world of booby milk - you can stop now.

Why in the world am I posting about this? Few reasons. Mostly to get it off my chest. Literally. Also for the same reason I blogged about my miscarriage this time last year. Not many people talk about it. And, as I lay awake all night long harping over this decision I read many mother-forums and was appalled at women who were referred to as "booby-nazis" and how they treated moms that were quitting. Their words made me feel awful. So, I am here to share my story and hope to not be judged. As a friend and lactation consultant told me, it is not for everyone. And I fall to that category.

I had to quit breastfeeding with Louisa as well. Although she was 4 months old and I quit simply because I just dried up. No other choice. But this time it was harder for me. Here I am with a 5 week-old and plenty of milk - yet I am making the decision to dry that milk and stop. Do you see why I was up all night crying and praying about this decision and why I cannot stop second-guessing myself?

From the get-go with Nash I had problems breastfeeding. If there was a nursing hurdle, I have crossed it. Let me just list them out.

Poor latch due to Nash being tongue-tied. This was solved by his frenulectomy, but unfortunately, the damage to my nipples had already been done.
Bleeding, cracked, raw nipples that were so sore I couldn't have anything brush up next to them or even near them. My toes curl in pain as my sweet little boy would try to feed. They are still the same way, 5 weeks out.
Oversupply which led to a very unhappy baby and very uncomfortable momma.
Engorgement, which led to clogged ducts which led to Mastitis. This was quite possibly one of the most painful things....until I got Thrush.
Thanks to the antibiotics I took to rid my boobs of the infection, I got Thrush. I still have it and have had it for almost 2 weeks now. It is awful. I feel as though my boobs are on fire. My nipples sting like I have 20 bees on each one stinging one after the other. When my milk lets down I swear I have shards of glass shooting through my boobs. Lovely, right. Not to mention the pain it causes when he nurses.
Oh, did I mention that he is irritable as all get-out when on breast-milk and I have eliminated dairy and any other 'irritants' from my diet? This is a girl that drinks milk like it is my job.

So, here I am...5 weeks out post-partum and even after giving my boobs a 'break' from nursing while I pumped for a week to try and let my nipples heal, I let Nash nurse twice yesterday and I am back to square one with the pain, bleeding, raw-ness, etc. This is not a ride in the park. This hurts like hell to be quite frank.

So, last night I decided I would go back to pumping and feeding him the breast-milk in the bottle and try to stick out the pain from the Thrush and cracked nipples as well. Then, I pumped this (on the right, on left is from a few days ago).

No, that isn't strawberry milk. And no, that isn't the first time that has happened. That is breast-milk mixed with the blood from my nipples. Awful. I have tried every cream/ointment known to man to fix this problem but they have yet to heal. So, with this...I started to cry. I have been battling what to do for a few weeks now as we had a trial run on formula and the child did amazing. BUT breast-milk is best and I have it, so why quit? This is what kept me up all night, in addition to a sweet little boy that thinks 3 am is party time. Reminds me of my college days, his Momma sure did love late-night. :)

So, I had to put it all into perspective.

A few weeks ago when I was recovering from Mastitis I had a moment in which I said (as I was writhing in pain), "is this worth it to me?" That was my first questioning. Then I told myself that the ME didn't matter. It was the baby that mattered. And yes, since breast-milk is best...it mattered to him. So - I stopped thinking about quitting and put on my big-girl britches for the bazillionth time in a few weeks.

Then, as I began to eliminate most everything from my diet as my child would scream and writhe in pain after eating (mind you I put him on reflux meds in case, although I don't feel that is the issue) I started to wonder, "is this worth it to him?" Sounds silly, I know...but you start to wonder - especially after you see him do amazing on formula. I began to beat myself up. What was I eating? What had I drank that was bothering him? Why was my breast-milk doing this? Is he getting enough? Is the blood from my nipples bothering him? And then, I trucked on as I felt the pressure of society in that breast-milk is best. We were going to make it work.

And then last night, as I was crying I remembered this afternoon when I was trying to get Nash latched on to feed and Louisa was talking to me and asking me questions. I was in so much pain from the latch that my toes were curling, I was sweating, border-line nauseous and Nash was latching on, then pulling off repeatedly to the point where tears started to well in my eyes. I was stressed to the max and in so much pain and then I did something I am not proud of. I snapped at Louisa. Like it was her fault. I screamed at her and told her to go to her room. When I saw her face and her walk slowly out of the room with her head ducked I wanted to cry again. It didn't dawn on me at the time, but last night it did. And this was one of my deciding factors. I didn't say is it worth it to me or him, but I asked myself..."is this working for us?" And my answer was no. It wasn't. Because sadly enough, that wasn't the first time that had happened and I promised to never let it happen again.

So, with that one bit on my mind - I cried and I started to pray. I needed a sign that would help me in my decision. I needed to know that I wasn't being selfish or doing the wrong thing. And it came to me in the next pumping. For the 3rd time in a row, I pumped 'strawberry milk' and endured a pain so awful that my toes curled and I almost threw up. That was my sign.

A happy mom equals a happy baby. So, with this in mind...I woke up this morning and put cabbage leaves in my bra. Still crying the whole time. I know this is the right choice for my family, but it is still such a hard choice to make. Will I be judged by those who never had any issues breast-feeding? Will I regret this in the long run? Will my child be okay in the long run? And opening the freezer and seeing bags of frozen booby milk, I feel a little better. He will be getting breast-milk for the next month or so, so I cannot beat myself up too much, right?

Thanks for letting me vent. I am not great at decisions. Especially big ones. I always second-guess myself. I tried really, really hard and fought through so many issues that I know I gave it my best...I just need to remind myself of that.

So, as I sit here and type and keep turning around to see if one of my labradors is tooting, I am reminded that no....it is just the cabbage in my bra stinking to high-heavens. I am thankful for the most amazing friends and lactation consultants that have held my hand in this journey. I am going to try my best to get on with it and not let any judging bother me. I will put my pump away and look forward to putting away the breast pads as well. We can do this, and we will make it. And it will work for our FAMILY.

Strange how quickly one extra child changes the mix. You suddenly go from figuring out what works for them to figuring out what works for the FAMILY. There is no 'I' in team, right?

Vent session over, maybe in this blog I have helped someone who is in my shoes. That would make me feel better. Most of all, I got it off my chest. My online boob-therapy. I will try to promise to never again take up a novel about boobs. My husband will probably die of embarrassment that I just wrote all of this - but as a Mom, modesty goes out the window.

I have another post in the works that is fun and has some pictures, and hopefully soon I will get to finishing it and posting. But, for now...I will go and load the dishwasher and run some laundry and continue to blame the stench on the pooches. :)

Hehe, looks like he has his hands up in surrender too. :)

Free to a Good/Any Home...Murphy

2011-03-09T11:34:00.006-06:00

Warning. This blog is a vent session. However, as I was writing I did realize that although crap is seeming to hit the fan faster than I can say "poo" that I really do need to stop and look at all of the great things that I have and be thankful for those instead of focusing on the negative. I could easily turn bitter. And since bitterness is no fun...let me turn this back around and try and find humor in it.

I have talked about Murphy a bazillionk times on here. And I am about to talk about him again. If you aren't sure who he is, it is Murphy's Law. Follows me around. I swear, I am thinking of changing my name to Murphy. Or maybe Murphina to be more feminine. If it can happen/go wrong, it will. Trust me. I am kinda over Murphy. He has been really unpleasant to us in the last year and I am ready for him to just get on. I told my friend Anna this morning that I was trying to figure out a way to give him up for Lent. Since I cannot come up with a good way, I am going to give up meat instead. And maybe soft drinks.

My little Nash is great, and so is my Lula Kate. Thankfully, oh so thankfully. Nash has recently shown me that he isn't the narcoleptic that he once was. He has "awakened" and has had some fussy times. NO WHERE NEAR Louisa fussy, thank goodness - but definitely gave me a run for my money for a few days. I *think* we may have things under control for now thinking it might have been issues with oversupply of milk - but I will spare you all the details of the booby feedings. Your welcome. :)

But, in the meantime of dealing with no sleep, trying to spend as much QT with Lou as I can, trying not to snap at her or make her feel seconds to the baby, keeping house, trying to figure out nursing issues and making sure everyone is clean, fed and has clean clothing and still breathing at the end of the day...Lucy starts limping BAD. Remember back in August she tore her ACL and had surgery to repair it and we did months of rehab to get her better. Well, she has kept a limp the entire time, and we have just all adjusted to it. However, in the last few days - her limp had gotten bad. One night, she wouldn't stand up to get on her favorite sleeping sofa. Broke my heart. Then yesterday, as her limp progressed, I took her outside to potty and her legs just collapsed from under her. Can I even tell you how I felt at that moment. I had the front door open, so I could hear Nash screaming and Lou hollering for me and here was my sweet Lucille, all 124 lbs of her in the front yard not able to stand. I almost varmited all over the place. I almost screamed for someone to help because I was so scared. And honestly, I also had a moment of panic in which I just wanted to run away from it all. I almost shut down thinking, "I just cannot do any of this anymore." Thankfully, one side of my brain told me to beef up and put on my big girl panties and I lifted Lucy and got her back in the house. I was so scared of what was going on. So, on to the surgeon today to figure out what it was. Here is where I will try and incorporate some humor.

Let me first just say I am not one to ask for help. I just don't. That is how I am as a person. My friends don't get it...but I just do things. And I make it. When I really, really need help - I do ask. But, mostly we just make it. I think it is somehow related to my stubbornness. :)

So, Lucy had an appointment this morning at 8:30. As soon as I made it, I had a moment of panic. How in the hizzity was I supposed to get Lucy to the vet with Louisa and Nash. How in the crizzity was I supposed to get her in and out of my SUV without her further hurting herself? What in the shizzity was I supposed to do if Nash decided he wanted to fuss at the vet? Holy junks. My blood pressure shot through the roof in no time. Then, I saw that the weather was supposed to still be nasty. Oh mylanta. To say the least, I was freaking out.

However, this is how it all went down.

We actually got out of the house in time for me to ride around a bit to try and put Nash to sleep. I was amazed. Granted, it took about 10 min to get everyone loaded up - but I did. Thankfully Lucy was feeling a bit better this am and was able to jump into the car with my help holding her back end with a sling. Phew. Granted, I looked like I had just rolled out of bed since I didn't get a shower, but I did brush my teeth. Can't remember if I brushed my hair or not, and had on the same thing as the day before - but my kids were dressed and clean. Success #1.

So, I drove and I drove. And Nash screamed and he screamed. He usually ALWAYS falls asleep in the car, but not today. I gave up and finally just pulled into the surgeon's office and began the process of unloading. First, Lucille. I asked her to sit nicely beside the car while I unloaded stroller to put car seat with screaming baby in. Lucille obliged. Then, I went to get Louisa out who was already having a melt-down because the "lines" in her socks were bothering her. So, I had to take off her shoes and socks and fix them and then put them back on while Lucy was sitting in the middle of the parking lot & Nash was showing off his pipes. Then, a Jeep had pulled up to the front of the building and at that time two of the employees brought out a stainless cart with a towel and a bag. I almost puked. I thought that there was a poor deceased doggie in the car and I was about to witness it being removed and I just couldn't handle that at the moment. The panic that set in made my toes sweat. I was trying to hide Louisa from it as I knew she would ask questions and while I was trying to shield her view I had another one of those moments when I thought, "Oh my junks. I cannot do this. I need to load everyone up and go home. I cannot do this." Thankfully in the middle of my parking lot panic attack, the employees got a sweet black lab out the Jeep with a slight limp. He was fine. I took a breath that honestly made my brain start working again, and helped me pull up those big-girl panties and stroll a screaming child, limping dog and chit-chattering 3 year old into the office.

Once we got checked in, the sweet receptionist probably sensed my hypertension and offered to let us wait in an exam room instead of the waiting room. So we settled in and Nash and all of his rotten-ness stopped crying as soon as I picked him up and put him on my lap. We are waiting and I am slowly starting to relax when Louisa pipes up, "Mommy. You forgots to ask if I needed to potty before we left. I hab to go potty." SHIZ. I beg that she hold it until the doctor has come in and she says she can so I thank her and offer to give her a treat if she can just stay still and be quiet until time to go. Well, a few melt-downs and she obliges.

The surgeon comes in and takes a look at Lucy. He then looks up to me and says the words I really could have done without. "She has torn her other knee." Translation. Her other ACL is blown. We were told when having her first one fixed that there was a 20% chance that the other would tear down the road, and I remember laughing and telling him he didn't know our luck. Ugh and double ugh. I even swore in front of him. I know, I am such a lady...but it just came out. It wasn't bad and Louisa quickly informed me that "MOMMYYYY you shouldn't say dat. Dat is a baaad word!"

Well, as the room is spinning, he tells me our options to repair this second one. I joke that maybe we should have both of her hips replaced while we are here just in case. I then go to check out and barely make it to the car before the tears start. I had honestly just had all I could take at that moment. I was glad the hormones held off until out of the surgeon's presence for you know how men just don't get the whole hormone/crying thing. Loading everyone up in the car, I boo-hood. Louisa laughed at me, and Nash...the little animal cracker that he is (like that Katie??) went to sleep at last. I sat in the parking lot and boo-hoo'd until I could gain my composure to drive. I felt better after the cry, and realized that it was my first big break-down since delivery. Pretty good making it 3 weeks!

So, Murphy...please get on. I honestly cannot handle anything else right now. I am kinda done dodging obstacle and jumping through hoops. Smooth sailing is what I would lurve right now. The numbness has set in, and I am ready to move on. To lift spirits, I enjoyed some sweet Louisiana strawberries in the form of liquid (aka Abita) for lunch. Judge not my dears, it is 5 o'clock somewhere.

As I said, this is really just a vent session. I know good and well I have SO much to be thankful for, and I really and truly am. I just had to get this out so it would maybe not eat at me. Byron and I have to talk to see what we will do for Lucy. I am torn since her last surgery, the rehab was very time-consuming and I DIDN'T have a newborn at the time. She also never completely recovered and always had a limp. I wish I could know that this leg would heal and no limp would occur. Or should we just have a custom brace made for her??? All I want is my sweet girl's quality of life to be the best it can be. It makes me so sad to see her limp and shake and have trouble walking. :(

To cheer things up. Here is a pic of my sweet little burrito napping on the couch.

And since you can no longer take a picture of baby without a picture of big sis....

And my sweet brown doggie, who wants his sister Lucy to feel better.

Until next time when things are hopefully shiny, happy people holding hands. :)

Welcome to the World, Baby Boy!

2011-03-04T16:35:00.007-06:00

Wow, I have a lot to catch up on. For reals.

WARNING – novel ahead. Get comfy, grab a cup of joe, wine, bevo or whatever makes you happy and bear with me, I didn’t edit or proof.

It has just been kinda nutso here. When I have a spare moment, I try to either catch some much-needed z’s or load dishwasher, run vacuum or laundry. You know, all that fun stuff which is even more fun with a newborn that doesn’t like to be anywhere but in Momma’s arms. I mean, anywhere. It is flattering, for sure – but sometimes it is nice to have 2 hands back! I love nothing more than to snuggle with him all day, but since the maid hasn’t shown in a few months – the house tends to get unruly. And while I talk about unruly…anyone else’s Labradors shedding like it is 100 degrees outside???

But, on to my sweetness. Nash. He just can’t help but to be so cute. He still smells so good I could eat him, and he loves me. So, bonus points to him. :) Yay for Team Amy!! Speaking of, I am typing this with said sweetness on my chest, so please excuse any errors.

Well, I got what I wanted. I do so like to get my way. Kinda a bit of a character flaw for me, but I so enjoy things working out the way I want them to. Maybe like waking up on your due date only to find that your water broke in the last few hours. Rock on, I say! Granted, I was supposed to check-in to the hospital later that night for induction, but I beat it. Thanks Nash, here’s hoping this is my cooperative child!! However, let’s just visit with Murphy for just a bit. The night before, so Tuesday night…Lou decided to start puking. This was fun. My Mom was in town to help, which worked out for me…but my Mom has never been one for puking. And Lou puked all over her. Whoops. But I will say, she took it well and cleaned it up as I was trying to enjoy soaking in the tub one last time for the next few weeks. Well, I ended up awake with Louisa, pukes and fever all night on my last night to really “sleep” for quite some time. So, when I awoke in the morning to find my water broke – at first I thought I had just been sweating after sleeping next to an inferno all night. But nope, it was my water. Time to get the ball rolling!

So, Byron and I headed off to the hospital to have a baby boy. I got checked in, hooked up to monitors, all that fun stuff. Here I am before I had to don the lovely gown that just lets all modesty out the window.

Now for the birth story. It was much, much shorter than Louisa’s. However, I spent more time without an epidural than I did with Lou, which was not fun. I am not afraid to ask for an epidural! Those contractions hurt. Especially when Pitocin is on board. Me no likey that drug. Not one bit.

Of course you know, when I got there I was having contractions (I didn’t even feel them, I have had worse ones before) but they weren’t regular and they weren’t getting my cervix in shape at all. So, they started Pitocin about 12:30 in the afternoon. You know I was already staaaaaarving, and the ice chips were not doing the trick. Grrrrr. But just par for the course. Things were rolling along just fine. The contractions started to get closer and closer and more painful with each one. This is what kept me company

as I sat in a bed that I just couldn’t get comfy in anxiously waiting BBN.

Did I mention that we actually packed the name book and were discussing names while I was in labor. For real. So, for everyone that thought we had a name but were just being secretive, TOLD YOU we didn’t. We were going back and forth between Nash and another name that I will keep to myself (hehe) and just couldn’t settle on a middle name for Nash. Finally, we came up with Butler. No family ties or anything, I’ve always liked the name and it flowed well with Nash, we thought. So, most of the day he was Nash Butler. But then we had name #2 still on the burner and nothing was set in stone.

Around 3:30 I started to get very uncomfortable. So, I got some Stadol. It was quite funny, as I could feel each and every contraction with this med, but I was so drunk it didn’t matter. I remember thinking, “Ha, here comes another one” and just sitting through it. Crazy what meds will do. I also remember my OB coming in and me announcing to him that I was drunk as a skunk. Nice Amy. Wonders what some narcotics will do to someone (this also serves as an apology for anyone that visited in the hospital while I was on a Percocet-induced high, wow). The Stadol stayed and I layed in bed ‘drunk as a skunk’ and having a good time while my cervix continued to be incompetent and not dilate even with steady contractions. We were beginning to think this was gonna take up way into the wee hours.

Around 5 I decided it was epidural time. By this time, the Stadol was still on board, but wearing off enough that I was completely aware of the contractions, and I was starting to mind them. To the point where the pain started to get out of control. My brain was foggy, but pain receptors were not. I remember the anesthesiologist coming in and getting prepped and I remember the needle in my back, and the next thing I knew I was in an oxygen mask with bed in Trendelenburg position. I was quite confrused and Byron was not in the room (they had asked him to leave, how odd…he was allowed to stay in GA??). The nurse told me my pressure kept dropping and I remember getting pressers in my IV – and then after a while my blood pressure started to behave again and allowed me to not be upside-down in bed with O2 mask. Then, the beauty of an epidural. It is amazing watching contractions on the screen but not feeling a thing. Crazy. So, we waited and waited and hoped that my cervix was cooperating.

8:45 pm’ish I remember the nausea hit. And it hit hard. I got sick, but couldn’t throw up but felt AWFUL. I remember telling Byron, “I’m done.” I honestly felt so sick that I was ready for it all to be over. I could barely focus I felt so bad. Right after I said that, my OB walked in and took one look at me and joked, “Guess you aren’t drunk as a skunk anymore?” Ha. No, I wasn’t and kinda wished I was! But turns out, I was sick as a dog because I had finally, finally gotten to 10 centimeters. I was ready to go. I started pushing at 9:15. I remember thinking it was odd because they didn’t turn off my epidural like they did with Louisa, but I had a hot spot in it so I could feel the contractions in one area of my uterus, so that helped to know when to push…but it was harder to push this time I thought because I just couldn’t feel as much. But, turns out I was doing it correctly….because about 4-5 pushes into it, I felt that wonderful feeling when your uterus is finally without baby. You other moms know that relief that you feel when baby comes OUT! So, at 9:36 pm…..BBN was born. My OB put him on my chest and Byron and I at the same time said, “He is a Nash. He is not a (insert other name here).” And so, welcome to the world Nash Butler Norris. :)

So, all in all…labor was not as long. I still had many recovery issues due to a large baby – but I was so glad that I didn’t have to push for 2.5 hours. I honestly don’t know if I could. I was beat. It is amazing how exhausted your body gets with pain. AND I had drugs.

The next few days were a blur. Between pain and fatigue, they kinda all roll in together. However, I was just as excited about Louisa meeting Nash as I was to meet him myself. It was so strange, I got nervous. I wondered, “will she like him?” It was a crazy feeling plus I was missing her and so was just super excited when Byron brought her to the hospital. Looking back at pictures now, I come to tears in an instant. I am so glad my friend Phoebe was there to capture these moments, because I will cherish them forever. I know that sounds super-gay and you know me and mush, but the feeling that comes over me looking at these pictures right here….

I cannot even begin to describe. I cannot take my eyes off of them. Especially the look on my sweet Lou’s face. I just melt. I was so worried at the last minute about bringing another baby home and what it meant for my relationship with Lou and everything that the look on her face eased it all. She has been just amazing with him. Have I ever mentioned how much I love this girl?

She has been the biggest trooper the last 2 weeks. The weeks have been rough, as I said with recovery-related issues, nursing problems, engorgement, clogged ducts, mastitis (which for those that have never had this, it was worse than Swine flu, I honestly thought I was going into septic shock I was so sick. I couldn’t move, it was awful. Moms that are nursing…keep those boobies unclogged! You don’t want to get mastitis!!) and a tongue-tied little boy that thankfully we know some awesome ENTs that were able to hook us up with a frenulectomy – but Lou has been a trooper. I tell everyone, she has her moments…but honestly I do too. Her attention-seeking behavior has started in the last few days, and I am still trying to figure out how to handle that – but she has done way better than I ever thought she would. She LOVES him. Cannot keep her hands off of him. Is such a huge helper to me and is very understanding. I wanted this transition to be as normal as possible for her, but in the mean-time I forgot how strong she was. She is my big girl.

Now, with that said…there have been some times. We all knew they were coming. She is very interested in the whole diaper-changing ritual, and honestly I try to keep her our of it as much as possible because I am still not ready for the anatomy talk yet. And we all know Louisa, she is going to ask questions. She mentioned to me the other day when I was bathing him, “Oh Mommy, there is still someping ober on dat thing of his that you forgots.” She was referring to his plasti-bell from circumcision that hadn’t fallen off yet. I quickly covered “dat thing of his” and changed the subject.

I made our first outing as the 3 of us the other day. I was SCARED to death. For real, my blood pressure was probably 300/200. Haha. I had to go to Target and I made sure I had everything, and I mean everything all packed up and ready to go so that when Nash finished nursing we would hit the door. Of course Louisa insisted on dressing herself, a battle that I rarely pick anymore and with her outfit she HAD to wear her red patent leather Danskos that are about 4 sizes too big.

I told her before we left to change shoes since she wouldn’t be able to walk in them once we got to Target and I needed her to keep up in case Nash woke up, etc. Well…..when dealing with this one

you sometimes just let things go. So, we got to Target, I was already sweating and went to go and put both Lou and a sleeping bebe in carseat into the buggy. Of course, Lou wanted to be in the front – so I obliged and so I put Nash in his seat in the back part. So, we start to roll up to the lovely store and Lou loses her first shoe. In the MIDDLE of the road with traffic everywhere. Enter meltdown #1. So, we get shoe back on and get into the store and the other falls off. At this point, I tell her she needs to get in the back of the buggy to avoid any other shoe fallings offs and she melts. With all the screaming, I am not only embarrassed, but scared that she will wake the baby. Well, we get everything all swapped around, I get the few items that I need and we are ready to head out. Nash is still asleep, thank goodness and I have to get Lou out to walk so that I can put the items back in the buggy so they wont fall out in the parking lot. Well, mistake for me. I am not even going to tell you how many times she lost her shoes in the parking lot between the store and the car. Oh dear me. And my sweet little Nash slept through it all. I had promised her a milkshake if she was good, and I was trying to figure out if Sonic would add rum to their cherry limeades to help with my anxiety!! :) But, I feel good with the first trip out of the way. As long as I can plan for Lou disasters…methinks we will be good?

Okay, novel here. And wouldn’t you know it has taken like 2 days and I don’t know how many times I have sat down to write this? Hopefully I wont go as long without blogging again. I don’t even know if I covered all bases or not. Oh well, done and done.

Now, we are at the 2 week point. I am feeling better, getting more confident and we have good days and bad days. Today has been a bad day. I was up with little man from 10:45 last night until 4:40 this morning with him crying. I was having flash-backs of Louisa as a baby. And she didn’t let him out-do her last night as I was up with her 3 times as well. He hasn’t stopped fussing still today. I am really, really, really, really hoping it is just gas or a bad belly because I am honestly not up for it right now. All I want is maybe an hours nap! Neither child is cooperating today – I think this will be the case for the next few years. So, guess I will just adjust and pour another cup of coffee. :)

Since I am over writing this blog post, I will just put a bunch of pics together without captions. Forgive me, and come back…promise I will get more organized. Maybe. Haha.

If I could find it, not only would I push it, but I would also stomp & sit on it.

2011-02-25T08:30:00.002-06:00

My Easy Button, that is.

I know I have fallen behind on posting, I have sweet emails from friends reminding me of this. :) However, it has been an absolute circus here lately. But no fun elephants. It would have been cooler if there were elephants.

Yes, there is a baby. And yes, he finally got a name. We welcomed Nash Butler Norris on 2/16/11 at 9:36 pm and he was 7 lbs 13 oz and 20 in long. We are in love. He is the sweetest thing and hoping not to jinx it....but he SLEEPS! This has been wonderful as it has been nuts.

And by nuts, I mean Murphy came to help with the baby.

He brought the stomach bug, which is awesome in a house with a baby under a week. I mean, the coolest ever.

He then broke our dryer. Anyone ever tried to have a new baby in a house without a dryer? It's fun. Really. I mean, I know people did it back in the day - but I am not back in the day. And even with me being the worst laundry-doer ever, I still miss my dryer. So, if you come over and the house smells like milk, sorry...it is Nash's laundry hamper.

Isn't he so sweet? Murphy, that is.

It has been a week, and I promise to post pics of this cuteness as soon as I am up and knowing which way is up again. The first few days home from the hospital I was still high on adrenaline and things were fab. Then, the adrenaline wore off and I was in a Percocet-induced high no thanks to delivery-recovery. Once I began to see through the Percocet, I was blessed with clogged milk ducts and Mastitis. Really, it has been a ride.

So, once everything clears up - I promise pics and stories and then I will probably apologize in advance for more pictures. But crazy as it is, I haven't even had my camera out! That says something in this house.

Until I stumble upon the Easy Button...

Oh Where, Oh Where could she be?

2011-02-11T15:34:00.004-06:00

Well...I certainly haven't been birthing a baby. No mam. BBN is still cooking. Remember how I said I was certain he would come early? Well, looks like he is already playing the game of let's prove Momma wrong. Fine with me, honestly....I am cool waiting. Weird, I know. But don't get me wrong...I am SO excited about meeting him and rocking him and holding him and smelling him, but I am just in no hurry. This is SO unlike me. SO not my personality. What gives? No clue - but I am really, really hoping that this is a sign that I am becoming more laid back and will let things go better than I usually do. Especially since things are about to be nutso here. I mean, this child doesn't even have a name!!!! Oh gosh. I also haven't made him ONE thing besides bedding. Shame on me. Who knows. Who knows.

I also haven't been doing much of this

although I should. I am slowly noticing the drop in energy levels, especially around 6 pm when the contractions hit - but other than that...I am 90 to nothing. So odd. I just cannot sit still. This pregnancy could not have been more different from mine with Lou if I tried!

Update on BBN. I was actually schedule for induction yesterday. I didn't tell anyone, mostly because as soon as we scheduled it 2 weeks ago I decided I would cancel it. Hehe. But, I had an appointment on Monday and an ultrasound and although BBN was already 7 lbs 4 oz on Monday, we decided to hold off. Also - despite the nightly contractions and pelvic pain, turns out my cervix is incompetent once again. To spare you from having to hear about my lady parts - let's just say this....I have an appointment on Monday along with a biophysical profile for baby mostly because my amniotic fluid is getting low - and am due on Wednesday. If BBN hasn't graced us with his presence by the end of the day on Wednesday, I will be induced on Thursday. So, I am cool with that. I have nothing against induction, but just thought it would be fun to go into labor on my own. However, with that said...it was funny how I turn into a ninny as soon as the contractions start to get regular and increasing in intensity. I always run to go put my feet up and pray he isn't coming. Hehe. I am so demented in the head. And usually, the slight panic attack makes them go away. :)

However, this is what I am afraid is going to happen. Methinks I will go in on Monday for my BPP, my fluid will be too low for safety and MD will say, do not go home. You are going straight to the hospital in which I will have to page my husband out of the OR and drive myself over to the hospital and hope he gets there in time. Haha. The swelling has also begun and my BP has started to rise, nothing crazy, just over my usual 90/60...but it is getting time.

Other than the nightly contractions and the feeling like he is slowly falling out of my you-know-wheres, I feel good. I have a large belly that is in constant motion and I love it. Soon, that belly will be all jiggly and gross feeling with a belly button the size of my head and I will miss that little booger moving around in there and jabbing my ribs. Here I am at 39 weeks.

Okay - and I am DYING because I didn't notice this while taking pics, but just saw when I uploaded. Check out the firecracker in the background in her skivvies and cowboys. Here she is more clear.

HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Oh dear me. This child is a disaster. She is all over the place and we have had a time this week. Byron got home on Wednesday night at like 630, but other than that....it has been 10 before he has stepped foot in the door. It is like 2 degrees outside and Lou and I are at each other's throats. She told me last night when I told her to go and put on her pj's and get ready for bed that I needed to "Hold ons Mommy, I'm habing a contraption and jes need to rest right now." She also told me (which makes sense now that I see her in the background of the pics, I wasn't paying total attention at the time) this summer we needed to go to the beach to get her some big shells so that "I can only wear my cowboy boots, my pannies and some shells to cober my big boobies like Ariel." Methinks with a newborn, she just might get her wish as I am picking battles....but the big boobies? Hmmm. Must ask Santa for those.

But seriously, this week...all I have done is yell and scream and put my child in time out. It has been awful. I finally understand the whole, "this will hurt me just as much as it hurts you" spiel. I mean, I get so upset with myself for yelling so much, but then again - when she blatantly does something she KNOWS she isn't supposed to or that I just asked her not to - what else do you do? I have STILL not mastered how to discipline this one. I even checked out a book today at the library on mothering a difficult daughter. I am NOT a how-to book reader, especially on child-rearing, but I just am at a wit's end. And I am trying really, really hard for this transition of having a baby to be easy for her. I by NO means want her to feel back-seat to anything. But, I also want and need her to understand that when BBN comes, she is going to need to behave better and listen better and set a good example. Ugh, I just don't know. I do know that I am tired of yelling at her and being that mom - but I just don't know how to get things through her thick head. I know a LOT has to do with cabin fever and Byron not being home, but I have made it a point each day to spend time doing something fun for her that she picks. And still, as soon as we are done with that....she is back to misbehaving. Ugh. The 3's have been MUCH more difficult for us than the 2's were.

Sorry for that rant. I just needed to get it out. And, I just realized this post is all over the place and really is kinda jumbled. Maybe I need to get back to my fountain Diet Coke that has become a daily craving. That, and maybe the vacuum cleaner since I just thought Murray rubbed up against my leg - but instead it was a ball of fur. Eeks.

Maybe next post will be a baby??? WITH a name???

Let's not hold our breath. :)