You’ve heard that before.

2 under 2

3 under 5

Whatever your number, your combination.

 It’s hard.

You will run ragged cutting the crusts off of sandwiches and wiping noses.  All after waking up 7 times the night before.  Each time a different child.  A different need.  A bottle.  A reassuring back rub.  A hand in the bathroom.

It’s hard.

But you’ve heard that before.

I thought I’d beat the crowds to Costco today.  Thought I’d get there while everyone else was still lounging around the house this gorgeous Sunday morning.  Maybe the crowds would be at church.  Or on the soccer field.

At 8 am I set my imaginary goal to leave by 9:30.  An hour and a half to get ready and out the door.  Just 1 adult and 3, kids since my husband has been away for work.  Or should I say 3 on 1.  Because that’s what it feels like most of the time when he’s gone.

I poured the wrong cereal, stepped on 4 toys and had wiped 2 butts by the time the oven clock showed 8:36.  I had to remind myself to breathe.  Because at this point my fuse isn’t even short.  I think it’s gone.

It’s hard.

I run upstairs to get the kids dressed.  Hand the baby a toy to keep him entertained and wrangle the 3 year old into a shirt and shorts.  I already hear whining from my daughter’s room.  This dress????  Why THIS dress????

Breathe.

Socks.  Where are the socks?  Crap!  I didn’t take the laundry out of the dryer.  Back downstairs.  Throw the laundry on my bed and fold a few items until I come across a matching pair of socks.

I heard my voice bellow up the stairs “letssss gooooooo” and then I wait.  Did they pick up their toys?  I have no idea.  So, I yell again “clean up!!!!!”  There, that should keep them busy for a minute.

I look down at the baby who is just staring at me.  “Sorry for screaming” I mumble and I take him into my room to get dressed.  I brush my teeth and take a quick look at my face.  Yep, totally forgot to take my makeup off last night.  Much less do that new 5 step skin care routine I promised myself I would start.  Oh well.  Throw some water on my face and search for my hat.  What day is today?  Do I have to wash my hair?

I glance at the oven clock.  It’s 9:11.

I yell once again for them to come down.  They stand there sheepishly in bare feet just waiting for me to ask if they picked up their rooms.

 I don’t.

I know the answer.

I toss socks at them, grab the hair detangler and resume last night’s fight with my daughter.  You see, she needed a trim and I thought how hard could it be?  Harder than I thought actually and I spent the rest of the night trying to convince her that no one gets their hair cut in a straight line anymore.

Definitely a pony tail for her.

I wipe faces and tie laces.  Load up the baby and grab an arsenal of snacks and toys.

Oven clock reads 9:41.

Not horrible. We were off.

Apparently so was everyone else because the store was wall to wall people.  Bulk shopping is apparently a big deal on Sunday mornings.  Who knew?

It took almost an hour but we managed to grab the things we needed and make our way to the checkout.  At this point the baby is whining and the kids are sick of sitting so close to one another and of course I brought my expired Costco card.

My kids then spot the food court and start singing for hot dogs.  It’s 11am.  I said I’d grab one and we could take it home.  But I quickly lost that argument because I didn’t have any fight left in me.  So there we sat.  Right by the line to leave.  Hot dogs for them.  Deluxe slice of pizza for me.

Another failed attempt at a diet I guess.

I’m watching the people leave, walking towards the exit of the store.

Combed hair.  High heels.  Dresses.  

Where do these moms come from?!

I literally felt myself sinking lower onto the red plastic bench.  Their kids are older.  Look, her husband is here to help her.  She only has one child.  I reasoned with myself.  I was suddenly suffocating in my yoga pants.  I became very aware of my hat and yesterday’s eye makeup.

 I felt ashamed.

Why couldn’t I get it together?  I should have woken up earlier.  How can they do it and I can’t?

The baby let out a shriek snapping me out of my self loathing trance.  Out of the corner of my eye I watch my son tip his water over.

Breathe.

I have to remind myself, as I stuff the last bite of crust into my mouth.  From the slice I pizza I wasn’t even hungry for.

And then I see her.

2 kids in tow.  And another in the cart.  Scolding one and holding hands with the other.  Her arm sleeve has leftover Crayola paint on it and it’s obvious that she didn’t brush her hair.  I hear the tone of her voice as she asks them what they want to eat.  She’s barely there.  Hanging on by a thread.  I know she just wants to scream “hot dog or pizza damnit!!!!”  But she doesn’t.  Because she’s a good mom.  But I watch her grind her teeth while her toddler chooses.

And then she sees me.

Mopping up spilled water and trying to console the baby.  Yelling at my 3 year old not to walk away from me and begging my 6 year old to help get the trash together.  Time stops for a second.

 And she nods in my direction. 

Seeing me.  Really, truly seeing me.

 I smile.

And then as quickly as it stops, life resumes. We turn our heads and get back to the tasks at hand.

Silently calculating the hours until bedtime.

It’s hard. 

But you’re not alone.

It’s easy to feel “less than” when comparing yourself to others.  They are not all in the same stage of life as you.  They are not all in the same place as you.  This stage of life is hard.  Find your people.  The ones in your boat.  And hang on to them.  For dear life if you have to.  Cry to them.  Complain to them.  Eat rows of cookies with them.

The time will pass.

And one day you will be at Costco when it opens with your perfectly scrubbed children and their straight haircuts.  And you will have washed your hair and put mascara on.  You won’t have baby oatmeal stuck to your shirt.

And when you see another mom in that “oh so hard” stage of life, will you nod at her?  Give her recognition and hope.  Show her that you see her.  Your nod will keep her going.  Remind her that you have been there.  To slow down.  To breathe.  That these years will go too fast.  That she might actually miss them.  She can’t see any of that right now.  As she reminds a child to use table manners and wipes up spilled ketchup.  She just needs your nod to remind her that she is not alone on this journey.

Because we all know it’s hard. 

But it doesn’t have to be lonely.

XO Danielle

I love to connect with my readers on social media, so feel free to share this with a friend, pin it, and find me on Instagram and Facebook.

Well, well.  Look who is finally hopping on to show off Gio’s newborn pictures on his 7th month birthday.  Let’s just say it’s not too easy finding spare time after you’ve had your third baby, ha!  

In all seriousness I am so in love with each and every one of these photos but I may be even more in love with the story behind them.  You see, Gio was born early at 36W5D.  And he landed himself a rather stressful 8 days in the NICU.  When I say stressful, I mean stressful.  Between him being at the hospital, recovering from my 3rd c-section and having 2 other kids who needed me the LAST thing on my brain was his newborn pictures.  

One morning I got a Facebook message from a sweet friend.  Congratulating me on the birth of Gio and reaching out as a fellow NICU mom to offer her support as she remembers sitting in those rocking chairs.  She told me that a good friend of hers was a photographer and wanted her to contact me and offer a complimentary newborn session as she too was the mom of a NICU warrior.  I am not going to lie I did a double take.  I almost didn’t believe it.  There had to be a catch.  Why would this photographer whom I didn’t even know offer to spend her time photographing my newborn son?  

Why? 

Because her heart is 10x the size of anyone else I know. 

That’s why.

I contacted the photographer, Alissa Delucca and we chatted for a while as if we were old friends.  Kids on both sides blaring in the background and the conversation just flowed.  She asked me all about Gio and what he was staying in the NICU for.  And she genuinely cared.  She explained that because she remembers what a struggle those NICU days were for her, when she heard from her friend that Gio was born early she had it in her heart to reach out and offer to take his photographs for me. 

Did I not tell you how big her heart is?

She invited me to her studio and told me not to worry, she would have everything I needed.  When I arrived, I was a complete mess.  Gio had just woken up (not a good start to a newborn shoot), I was hungry and tired and looked like I hadn’t slept in a month.  Her studio was quite possibly the cutest place I had ever visited.  Halos, flowers, hats and wraps in every color were hanging from the wall.  Gorgeous photographs staring down at me.  Quiet, calm and complete perfection.  She immediately shushed me as I apologized for being late, having no make up on and for Gio, who I was terrified would not sleep a wink for her.  She scooped him into her arms, and told me to sit and drink hot coffee and have snacks while she worked her magic.  You guys…hot coffee and snacks.  Literally a new mom’s dream come true.  

So I sat and watched her work.  She wrapped and soothed my baby.  She posed him perfectly.  He slept.  He didn’t sleep.  I prayed he wouldn’t poop on any of her adorable outfits.  We chatted.  It was really such a great morning. 

When we were all through she showed me a wall of photographs behind a curtain.  She invited me back for my reveal and explained that when I got there she would have the curtains drawn.  She would then pull the curtains back revealing row after row of printed and matted photo for me to fall in love with.  And I did just that. 

A couple of weeks later I returned and got to experience my reveal.  My mom came with me for the ride and we both stood there and stared at all these photos of a perfect, tiny, magnificent little boy.  My little boy.  Naturally I had to have the entire display, ha!  My mom purchased the reveal for me as a baby gift and I have since created a similar display to hang in Gio’s nursery.  My favorite part about it is that when I am ready to take them off the wall (if ever!) I can place all the photos right into the box they came in and it is the perfect keepsake.  

Alissa proves to me that there are still good people out there.  Who act out of kindness without expecting anything in return.  I will forever be grateful for her heart and her talent.   

XO, Danielle

I love to connect with my readers on social media, so feel free to share this with a friend, pin it, and find me on Instagram and Facebook.

And just for the record — This is not a sponsored post by any means.  Alissa didn’t even know I was a blogger until we chatted on the phone.  She offered herself and her services to us simply out of the goodness of her heart.  She is a good person with a heart of gold.  She gifted me with the photography session and a bunch of digital files of my choosing just because she felt lead to do so.  I wanted to share her amazing photos and the experience I had with her with all of you.  I hope you enjoy the photographs as much as we do.  

Alissa’s studio is located in Boca Raton, Florida and you can find her here!

I had this wild notion to breastfeed my 3rd baby.  Before you get all twisted at the thought of “wild notion” let me explain.  The idea of breastfeeding to me was and still is a bit wild.  As in wild animals.  Dairy farms.  Nursing pups.  Baboons on display at the zoo with babies hanging from their nipples.  Wild.  Now before you start on the breast is best commentary, come on down from your righteous throne and get over it.  Not everyone feels that way. 

Fed is best. 

Period. 

You won’t win that argument here.

My babies have been fed formula, pumped milk and now exclusively breast fed and honestly they all cry and whine and I’m sure they’ll all grow up to similar degrees of crazy so let’s just agree to feed our babies and leave it at that. 

K, thanks.  

So where were we.  I decided to breastfeed baby 3 for a number of reasons.  All my babies were c sections and a small part of me feels like I may have missed something in the delivery that may have made me feel…a little more heroic.  I mean, you have moms pushing babies out of their VAGINAS and I’m over here with my hair blown out on an operating table asking them for a xanax cocktail through my IV.  And as sad as I may be about missing out on my babies trip down the birth canal, my vagina is still in tact so there’s a silver lining. 

However my fear of missing out on important life experiences made me realize that if I didn’t try to breastfeed baby 3 I would never have another opportunity.  That and the promise google made to me that my uterus would shrink at a record pace.  Spoiler alert, googles a liar. 

A dirty, rotten liar.  

So I made the decision to try to breastfeed.  It went like this “ok boobs.  We’re gonna give this a go.  Don’t look at me like that, I don’t think I’ll like it either.  You either step up to the plate or sit on the sidelines but I can promise you that if you don’t give it your all on the first shot we are calling game and headed back home to our comfort zone”. 

I was feeling pretty good about myself and my decision until we got to the hospital.  I immediately got asked the number one question.  Breast or bottle feeding?  The nurse just stared at me with those pleading, “please say breast because it just makes the world a better place” eyes.  Breast it was.  But I just want to know why they are so damn nosy about all of it.  I mean, here I am hiding behind my curtain.  Trying to maintain the 1/2 an ounce of dignity I have left since someone came in every 4 hours during the night to change my wee wee pad and spray my privates with warm water.  And all I can hear is “did he latch?  How’s he doing?”. 

And the panic sets in.

At this point I am literally shoving my nipple into the babies mouth.  The baby is reaching up with his mouth wide open similar to a seal at feeding time, yet this guy isn’t catching any fish.  I’m shoving, he’s missing.  Nurse Nosy is still on the other side of the curtain playing a rapid fire game of 20 questions.  Just when I started to literally drip sweat and curse and threaten that if the baby didn’t latch in another 20 seconds I would be submitting my paperwork to the Similac strong moms webpage and going to feed him a bottle, he latched. 

And so our breastfeeding journey began.

 One of the best parts about breastfeeding besides the obvious health benefits is that it’s freeeeeee.  And trust me I know plenty of “if it’s free it’s for me moms” that breastfeed primarily for this purpose.  (I was hoping for the miraculously shrinking uterus but we will touch on that later.). I just want to be the first to let you know that the whole promise of free… falls flat.  Flat on its face in the nursing aisle at target as you’re tossing these items into your cart.

Nursing pads: because your sick of walking around with big old wet spots on your shirt and shoving toilet paper in your bra is so middle school.

Nipple cream: because no one told you that achieving that perfect latch can also feel like 38 million of the tiniest and sharpest knives exiting your nipples.  Oh, and not to mention things crack and bleed and blister.  And yeah, I’m not talking about your heels in the winter.  I’m still talking about your poor, sweet nipples.  They will take a beating.  And you will pay any amount of money to numb them.

Milk producing aides: maybe your lucky to be able to nurse your baby 8 times a day and still manage to pump 20 oz to build up a freezer stash.  Maybe you’ve been blessed by the gods in the milky heavens.  However if you weren’t, which I assume many are not…you will find yourself eating certain foods to “up” your production.  Things are going well you think but then you see those mamas posting pictures of their stash in the Facebook pages.  Suddenly you have this competitive need to pump enough milk to feed every infant in your town.  No, your entire state.  So in go the supplements.  drops, chews, drinks, cookies.  Challenge accepted.

And just when you think your cart is finally full don’t forget to grab that nursing cover, because god forbid someone know what’s going on under there // a nursing bra, because yes you will have to leave the house and wear a bra at some point // milk freezer bags, to store all that extra supply obviously // and set a reminder to order all new pump parts because you could swear you read somewhere to change them out every few months.  

Another fun breastfeeding fact is that you can throw your schedule out the window.  I am hardly a type A but I do like my babies on a schedule.  Eat at 8, sleep at 10, repeat all day until bedtime.  But no.  Breastfeeding is an entirely different animal.  It’s more along the lines of eat, eat, eat, cry to eat, eat more, snack time, eat because the snack wasn’t enough, eat, eat, eat and bedtime.  Bedtime of course means another 3 maybe 4 meals.

I mean.  Oh my word!  There is really no point to wearing a shirt in the beginning.  And I promise you it’s normal to google things such as:

“Why does my baby nurse constantly?”

“Can my baby really be this hungry?”

“Can someone please explain the nursing benefits to me again because I would really love to take a shower without a baby hanging from my boob?”

And the answers? 

It’s for comfort, growth spurt, developmental learning.  

Great.  So I’m a human pacifier to the fastest growing baby who will one day cure cancer.

I guess I can live with that.

But honestly speaking, how can we forget to talk about the bond.  No one can describe or explain that one.  It’s a try it for yourself and see.  It’s why I forgot everything that I wrote above and kept on nursing past my goal.  It’s a feeling that your baby has needs that only you can fulfill and while it can and will be exhausting it’s also extremely gratifying.   Those sweet nursing moments sitting in a big chair with only a lamp on for light will be memories that I will never forget. 

And trust me, I didn’t think I would be able to do it. 

I didn’t think I would be physically able to handle being the only person able to do every feeding with 2 other kids running around.  Or have the guts to nurse in public.  I tell you, no one was as shocked as I was to be sitting on a public bench with a baby on my boob.   But you’ll sort of just become a total mama bear, or perhaps mama cow fits better.  You will surprise yourself in what you are capable of.  And you will be so happy that you did it.

So yes, breastfeeding definitely has more to it then the pamphlets in labor and delivery let on.  The ups and downs will leave you exhausted and you will want to quit all of the time.  But you won’t.  And when you do, you will cry.  I can promise you that.  My only hope is that you have a smooth sailing journey nursing journey.  That you let the good outweigh the bad, that your nipples don’t bleed and that you produce more milk then a dairy farm.  Oh and that your uterus shrinks at a rapid pace.  Because if you haven’t guessed, mine did not and so I pray you are one of the chosen ones. 

So go on, give your girls a little pep talk and good luck!

XO Danielle

I love to connect with my readers on social media, so feel free to share this with a friend, pin it, and find me on Instagram and Facebook.

Hey all!  With hurricane Irma quickly approaching the state of Florida it is obvious that panic is setting in.  People are choosing to drive as far away as they can, others choosing to stay where they are, and then a number of people I have spoke with are really unsure as to what the best choice is.  There are so many variables that come along with Mother Nature and while it is still too early to tell where Irma will make her landfall it is quite obvious that many people in Florida will feel some effects from the storm.

Whether you are choosing to stay or go I have compiled a list of the most helpful tips and tricks to prepare for a storm and its aftermath.

1.) Get gas.  Get gas in the car, gas up any boats, fill gas tanks.  Do this as soon as you hear of a potential storm to avoid long lines, shortages and price increases.

2.) Buy bottled water.   Plan for 1 gallon of water per person per day.

3.) Stock up on batteries.  You will need them for flash lights and radios.

4.) Check propane tank for BBQ.  You will likely be grilling all your food during a power outage.

5.) Keep up on laundry.  There would be nothing worse then not having power for 10 days if you were already behind on the laundry.

6.) Gather all important documents and place in a waterproof bag or case.  In areas prone to flooding you can use your dishwasher as a waterproof storage container.  Documents include: Birth certificates, SS cards, passports, drivers licenses, medical records, etc.

7.) Trim trees.  This can help limbs from falling on homes and going through windows.

8.) Take down baby pool gate.  Do this at the last moment.

9.) Bring in all outside furniture, hoses, BBQs, toys.  Many people will say that they do not care if it gets damaged but the real issue is items becoming airborne and possibly breaking and flying through windows.

10.) Check and clean rain gutters.

11.) Create a physical contact list.  It is inevitable that cell phones will die and you do not want to be without someone’s phone number in case you need to reach them.  Write them down and place the list with the important papers.

12.) Fill all medications.

13.) Stock up on food items such as peanut butter, bread, canned soups, canned tuna, beans, oatmeal, nuts, canned fruit, etc.

14.) In case of a power outage unplug all electronics.  When the power is restored any electronics that are plugged in can have a power surge and damage them.

15.) Fill bathtub/s with water.  This will be used for washing and flushing toilets in the event the water gets shut off.

16.) Open fridge/freezer as little as possible.  The more often it is open the faster the items will lose their temperature/defrost.

17.) Don’t forget your pets!  Make sure you have enough food and medications for your animals.

18.) Empty ice maker and bag the ice days prior so you will have bags of ice ready to go.

19.) Days before the storm hits fill tupperware with water.  Freeze some and keep some in the fridge.  Please note it can take 72 hours for a tupperware of water to freeze so plan accordingly.

20.) 1 drop of bleach for every gallon of water makes it safe for drinking in an emergency.

21.) Wash out and fill all empty containers and bottles with drinking water before the storm hits.

22.) Baby wipes can be used to personal cleansing if showers are not possible.

23.) Pack a first aide kit.  Bandaids, neosporin, tylenol, benedryl, childrens medications, itch cream, sunscreen, bug spray etc.  Gather all of these items and keep them in a big basket in a common area that way in case of a loss of power you don’t have to search the house for the items.

24.) Buy an antenna for the TV to get local news and updates.

25.) Find an old corded phone to plug into the wall.

26.) Buy a few back up lightning cell phone chargers and make sure they’re ready to go.

27.) Place a flashlight in smart places.  In the bathroom and by the electrical box.

28.) Check batteries in any portable fans you may have and keep them handy.

29.) Wet wash clothes placed in the freezer can be used to cool a person off during a power outage in the summer.

30.) Cut limes and lemons will keep pesky bugs and gnats away and serve as bug repellent.

31.) Crayons can be used as mini candles

32.) Charge all devices prior to the storm making landfall and try to save them for emergency uses only.

33.) Create “fun” bags for children with items that they haven’t seen/played with in a while.

34.) Decks of cards can keep children very busy when trying to make castles and forts out of them.

35.) Keep a raft in the garage.  Even if you aren’t in a flood zone you never know.  And better to be safe then sorry.

36.) Stretch a garden hose out all the way in the hot sun.  The sun will heat the water inside the hose and you will have warm/hot water.

37.) Solar powered garden lights can be brought into the house at dusk to light up the home.  In the morning bring them outside to recharge again.

38.) Get cash.  Atms will likely be without power and credit/debit card machines will be down.

39.) Park cars far away from any tall trees.

40.) A piece of string in a can of crisco will make a candle.

41.) Glow sticks can be used to light hallways and rooms and keep children calm and entertained in the event of a power outage.

42.) Keep insurance information handy in case you need to report a claim right away.

There are many more ideas and hacks to prepare for a hurricane and power outages.  If you can think of any that I haven’t mentioned please comment below and I’ll add them to the list!

The main tip is not to panic.  Be smart and prepared and stay safe.

XO,
Danielle

I love to connect with my readers on social media, so feel free to share this with a friend, pin it, and find me on Instagram and Facebook.

Can you remember the time we took that vacation.  To a tropical island.  We joked and laughed and drank fruity frozen cocktails.  I wore a bikini and we had sex in the middle of the afternoon.  It seems like forever ago.  Before my stretch marks and C-section scar.  Before I worried all the time about whether or not our babies ate enough vegetables and if they were going to sleep through the night.  I can almost remember the confidence I had.  Just yanking off my pool dress.  Tossing it on the chair like I never needed it.   I cling to that pool dress now.   Like my life depends on it, I cling to that dress.  Just like I cling to the memories of that vacation.  Of how I felt so free and comfortable in my own skin.   My skin feels different now.  Almost unrecognizable.  Like I am stuck in someone else’s body.  Someone whose body is out of control.  Mood swings.  Loose skin.  Hot, then cold, no hot.  Very, very hot.  Stretch marks.  Whose body am I wearing?  Why are they so hormonal?  Where is my fruity cocktail???

I didn’t expect these changes.  Honestly.  I thought I would bounce back.  I was young!  I was supposed to give birth and hit the beach the next month.  I wasn’t supposed to look like this.  Or feel like this.  I was supposed to look like I was 24 again.  The same girl who you dated for years before we got pregnant.  The girl who never cared if we left the lights on.  That girl never came back.  She took my confidence.   She ran with my flat stomach.  She took all the good parts of me and now she’s gone.

And so I cringe.  I cringe sometimes when you try to touch me.  When you walk into the bathroom after I shower I panic.  Don’t look.  Don’t see me like this.  I feel so different now.  So shy and unsure of myself.  I see all those confident moms proud of their “stripes” and of how they look post partum, but I feel embarrassed.   I feel uncomfortable in the body that I was left with.  After the 2 pregnancies.  After waking up 3 times a night for months at a time.  Each time eating a cookie on the way to the nursery because it made me feel better.  And I deserved to at least feel a little better if I was missing out on all that sleep.  I was left with a body that won’t fit in any of my designer jeans.  Jeans that now crowd the corner of my closet.  Jeans that I won’t give away because I still have faith in myself.  I still pray that the old me comes back.  Maybe I’ll wake up one day and see her in the mirror.  With her wrinkle free forehead and perky boobs.

So meet the post partum me.  2 times over.  This is how I feel.  But you?  You tell me otherwise.  Day in and day out, you tell me how beautiful I am.  How you don’t even see the extra 15 lbs.  You turn your head when I eat the entire bag of potato chips.  You never judge me.  Never speak a word of my mood swings.   You love me just the same.  If not more.  You have the confidence in me that I lost.  You carefully push me to be the best version of myself.  This new version of myself.  And so I have to wonder.  If you can love her…why can’t I?

So that’s where I’m at.  Trying to love myself once again.  Trying to make this new person the best person.  Trying to accept the different parts of me and to appreciate my body for what it has done.  It isn’t easy for me.  I’ll be honest.   It is hard for me to accept these changes but I am going to try.

And so I thank you.  For loving me.  No matter what I look like or how I feel.  Thank you for always thinking I am the prettiest.  The best.  The sexiest.  Even when I don’t feel like it.   I am going to work hard on loving myself the way that you love me.  Because the way you love me is the greatest way of all.

XO Danielle

I love to connect with my readers on social media, so feel free to share this with a friend, and find me on Instagram and Facebook.

I am having a hard time believing that I am turning 30 this weekend.  I have to admit, I am actually kind of excited.  Looking back on the past 10 years there is so much I would say to myself at 20.  So much I wish I would have known.  Well actually I did know.  I’m pretty sure everything about to be discussed was already told to me by my mother.  Too bad I didn’t start listening to her sooner.  Maybe not too bad.  Maybe I had to learn all these life lessons for a reason.  Maybe I wouldn’t be the same “me” if I had known sooner…

30.  Wear sunscreen.  Tan skin looks great in your teens and 20’s.  The older you get the more you start to resemble a raisin.  Tan wrinkles aren’t as cute.  Start the sunscreen young.

29.  Did I mention the soft skin parts?  If you aren’t going to listen to my advice about applying sunscreen everywhere at least put it on your neck, chest and cleavage.  Those areas take the sun the worst and there is nothing sexy about a sunburned turkey neck.  So trust me on this one.  Wear the sunscreen.

28.  Do not.  I repeat.  Do not eat fast food.  Yes, the fries are delish.  So delicious the cellulite that has now started to appear on the front of your legs thinks you should go back and get some more.  Don’t listen.  Don’t eat the fast food.

27.  Don’t beg.  For a job.  For a boyfriend.  For friends.  Just don’t do it.  Be yourself and all those things will come find you.  Know your worth.  If you know it and believe in yourself, so will others.  No one likes a beggar.

26.  Stop over drinking.  You don’t even realize you are over drinking  at 22 years old because at that age you can drink 4 margaritas and wake up like a pretty shiny penny, grab a Starbucks and be on time for your 8am chemistry class.  At 28 if you drink 4 margaritas you will wake up half dressed on the couch thinking you are the 7th dimension of hell with Satan himself stabbing you before you realize you are in fact in your home being poked by your toddler with a pen that rolled out of your purse when you flung it on the floor the night before.  Stop over drinking.

27.  Don’t curse.  It wasn’t attractive when you cursed as a teenager and it’s less attractive now.  It’s least attractive when your child drops something in Target and shouts “oh shit”.

26.  Marry the family man.  You will date lots of guys.   They will all be a little different.  Marry the one that has the same family goals as you do.   Trust me.   You don’t want to get married and then have to convince your husband to start a family.  If you aren’t on the same page from the start you likely won’t ever be.  Luckily enough. I was smart enough to know this

25.   Keep your car clean.  (I’m working on this).  It’s normal to have a messy car in high school.  Littered with textbooks and magazines.  Diet coke cans in all the cup holders.  It is not normal to pull up to a valet at a nice restaurant in your late 20’s, open the car door and have an entire garbage bags worth of crap fall out onto the pavement.

24.  Eat vegetables.  Seriously.  They are good for you and they are likely the cure for cancer growing right in our own backyards.  Lets not underestimate the power of spinach.  Less pizza.  More spinach.  Got it?

23.  Be spontaneous.  Take a road trip.  Book a flight to Europe.  Drive 3 hours to see famous lighthouse just because you feel like it.  One day you will have babies and while you can still do all of those things, spontaneity becomes a thing of the past.  Unless you are cool with snatching your kids from their beds in the middle of the night and packing all 7,890,204 things they need for one overnight trip to go somewhere on a whim.  If so, more power to ya!

22.  Go to college. I didn’t want to.  Trust me.  At 19 I had a billion better things to do.  But I did it, (thanks for the push Ma) and I am proud of it.  You will never regret getting an education.

21.  Spend frivolous money.  Do it while you are young and careless.  Not too frivolous, but just enough.  You will eventually grow up and know better.  So buy the shoes and enjoy them.

20.  Sleep in.  On your days off.  When you want to.  On a Tuesday just because you can.  Do it while your young, because the older you get it gets harder to do.  Also the fact that every time you sleep past 8 when you are older people assume that you are either 1) ill or 2) you drank too much.

19.  Be a good friend.   It is an amazing feeling to get to look back and have the same friends since early childhood.  Be a friend and you will always have friends.

18.  Do favors for people.  Lend them your car.  Bring them a meal when they are sick.  People will remember the nice way you treated them and in return will do nice things for you.  You get more bees with honey.

17.  Be a good hostess.  Always make guests feel welcome in your home.  You are going to be 30.  Not 18.  Offer them a drink.  Don’t just sit down and expect them to help themselves.

16.  Appreciate every single thing you have.   Not everyone has the luxury of an education.  Nice home.  Family.  Don’t take anything for granted.

15.  Throw away all the tiny, sequin dresses.  Do it before you go to try one on and have to sob uncontrollably into a bottle of vodka.  You will eventually outgrow them.  If not by size, hopefully by level of maturity.  Toss them.  All of them.  Even the one in the back with the tags that you swear will fit one day.

14.   Dance.  Even if you don’t think your very good.  Even if everyone is watching.  Just dance.

13.  Be kind.  Karma is only a bitch if you are.  Be nice to people.  All people.  And in return people will be nice to you.  Trust me, it goes full circle.

12.  Believe in yourself.  If you aren’t going to, why should anyone else?

11.  Pay your bills on time.  One day you will want to buy a car, or a house, or rent an apartment and they will find out that you buried all those bills under the seat in your car.  That won’t end well.

10.  Stop worrying.  It causes wrinkles and anxiety.  Neither of which are fun.  Whatever will be will be.  So just buckle up and enjoy the ride.

9.  Stop caring what people think.  Be you, for you.  At the end of the day if you are happy with yourself that is all that matters.

8.  Do not gossip.  I repeat.  Do not gossip.  It will come back to bite you in the ass.  He said/she said is an ugly business and if you get caught in the middle of it you will not win.

7.  Don’t be friends with gossipers.  Be friends with people who have dreams, ideas, goals.  People who inspire you and share feelings with you.  Do not give in to people who only want to talk down about other people.  You are better then that.

6.  Eat the birthday cake.  The calories will not make or break whatever fad diet you are on.  Enjoy the celebration and eat the cake.

5.  Wear high heels.  Wear them a lot because the older you get the harder it is to walk around in them.   Wear them high while you can.

4.  Save money.  For a rainy day.  For a new car.  For a vacation.   For whatever you may want.

3.  Always find the silver lining.  Even in the darkest of times there is good to be found.  Sometimes it’s harder to find than others but it is always there.  Find it.

2.  Listen to your mother.  She has likely been through everything you are going through and has wise advice to pass down.  Listen to it.

1.  Trust your path.  Know that where you are is exactly where you are supposed to be.  Every thing happens for a reason.

Cheers to 30!  I am so excited for the next decade!
XO
Danielle

I catch your eye and wave.  You quickly pull the sunglasses over your eyes.    You didn’t want anyone to see the circles under your eyes.  From yet another sleepless night full of teething babies and toddler night terrors.  I hear you apologize for not having any make up on.  Struggling with the baby carrier while the others argue from inside the back seat.   You scoop up the baby.  Run your fingers through her hair in a hasty effort to comb it.  I know the look on your face.   As you mentally punish yourself for not grabbing that bow off of the counter as you raced out the door.  You are joined by the others and I watch as you corral them through the parking lot.  I see you taking deep breaths as one reaches to pick a flower while the other looks to step fearlessly off of the curb without speaking.

It is not even 9 am and you have let them win.  Your eyes are emotionless.  You are just going through the movements.  Survival mode.  I know what you are thinking.  Just get me through this day.  Just get me through this morning.  Just get me through this preschool dropoff.  You promise yourself a naptime treat.  A trip through the starbucks drive-thru.  A slice of leftover birthday cake.  It’s well deserved right?  How is it possible that every other mom has gotten out of yoga pants.  Wearing mascara?  Talking happily on their cell phones while their freshly scrubbed children hold hands crossing the street.

I know you feel like you are always one step behind.  That if there was just an extra hour.  Or even an extra minute.  The amount of things that could be done in that time would be tremendous.   Every second of your day has a purpose.  Each one is carefully planned out.  Your entire day has been accounted for before your feet even hit the floor in the morning.  And you are simply exhausted.  How is it possible to get ahead when you always feel behind?  So you struggle.  Day in and day out.  You turn on auto pilot.  Scramble eggs.  Brush teeth.  Tie shoes.  Just keep moving.  Surviving.  Hoping along the way to avoid any possible meltdown and tantrums.

I’ve been there.   Honestly, I’m there a lot.  I know the feeling of defeat all too well.  I have felt its black cloud surround me before I even had a chance to drink my coffee.   Leaving the promise of a day that I will be wishing away before it barely started.

You are not alone.

Being the mom of young kids can feel like the loneliest job in the world.  But you are not alone.  And you are an amazing mom.  I wish you could see the “you” that others see.  Watching you expertly unloading 3 kids from the car in under a minute.  Speaking sternly to one child about not staying with the group while instinctively your hand grazes the shoulder of another making sure they don’t take that step off of the curb.

You can do this.  I know that because I watch you do it.  Everyone watches you do it.  And you do it well.  So well.  And you are winning.  Every single night when those little arms wrap around your neck with their slobbery good night kisses.  You are winning.  When your sassy 4 year old says she doesn’t need a bedtime story but then finds herself in your arms in the middle of the night whispering that you are her best friend.  You are winning.  When the baby wakes up with teething pains for the 5th night in the row and you sit quietly in the rocking chair humming her back to sleep.  You are winning.

You often get kicked down.  You have felt exhaustion that you didn’t think was possible.  Nothing ever seems to pan out the way it did in your grand plans.  But you are winning.  Take a good look around.  You are doing everything right.  You may feel defeated, as we all have.  But you are not.   Snuggle those babies and gear up for tomorrow.  I can’t promise it will get any easier.  But I can assure you that you are not alone.  And when you look into the eyes of your beautiful children just remember, you are winning.

XO Danielle

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Today I was that mom…

If you would have driven by my house around 5:30 today you would have thought I was crazy.  Or drunk. Or both.

There I was, wearing a collared, button down tank top and zebra pajama pants.  My hair was wild and my cheeks were rosy from laughing so hard.  My car was full of soap suds and there was a dismantled high chair lying down 10 feet from where I was standing.  I had the hose in my hand.  Music was blasting.  Mini was running wild around the driveway.  Well on her way to becoming soaking wet.  In her school clothes.  Her hair plastered across her face from the last spray of the hose.  If you would have looked carefully you would have seen Joey.  Still in his dinosaur onesie.  Scrubbing his own tonka truck with a wash cloth.  The tips of his hair wet from when he too was in the path of the hose.

We would have looked crazy.

What would you have thought if you rolled the window down?  Heard the music playing.  Listened to Mini scream “get me one more time Mama, I dare you”.  Waited for their favorite song to come on and saw us break out some fantastic dance moves while the water trickled down the driveway.  Watched Joey giggle uncontrollably when the hose sprinkled water all around him.  Would you have still thought I was nuts?

Sure I could have made the kids put swim suits on.  I could have not been wearing zebra sweatpants rolled up to my mid thigh.  I could have actually used car wash soap instead of caress body wash to get the dead bugs off the car.  But that wasn’t how the story unfolded.

We were just having a day.  You know the ones.   When the kids are getting into everything.  Snack crumbs cover the floor.  You swear that you are going to change your name to anything but Mama.  And you say no.  A lot.  We had just finished eating dinner and I look over and saw Joey’s high chair covered in mashed potatoes.   Oh the joys of self feeding.  So in my efforts to tire my kids out before bath time I announced we were going to go outside to hose the high chair down.  As quickly as I decided to do it, we were outside.

Within a minute I heard myself tell Mini NO yet again.  “Don’t get wet.  You’re not wearing a bathing suit.”

And suddenly I thought.. “Who cares.  So what.  So her clothes get wet.  What is the big deal?!”  And I sprayed her with the hose.  She shrieked with laughter.  Half out of shock and the other half thrill.   And so that’s how it happened.  With me deciding to not say no.  As for the kids…they had an absolute blast.  It was 30 minutes well spent enjoying the last of the days’ sunshine.  We watered the flowers, scrubbed the high chair and got all the dead bugs off the front of the car.  And we laughed.  Really, really hard.

I have no control over the memories my children will choose to remember.  I don’t know if they will forget all about today.  Or if they will remember every second of the fun we had in that moment.   What I can control is how often moments like these happen.

I want my kids to have fun and be silly and know that we can have a good time. That we can laugh and act crazy.  And that Mama doesn’t always say no.

So the next time I see a mom sharing a donut in the parking lot with her 5 year old I’m going to smile.  When I see that mom dancing with her baby in the grocery store I’ll be inspired.  And from now on every time I see a mom look a little crazy I’ll just think, maybe they are in their moment.  And I’ll think to myself how lucky her kids are to have today for a memory.

So, I guess I was that mom today.  And I really hope I’m her again tomorrow.

I am one of 3 sisters.  You can call us “girly-girls”.  Our childhood filled with Barbie dream cars and dance recitals.  Lip gloss and high heels.

No soccer balls.  No fist fights.  We didn’t know from Call of Duty or Monster Jam.  Wasn’t our cup of tea.  So naturally, when I imagined my life as a mom, I imagined it to be just like me own mom’s.  I pictured me and Mike, surrounded by girls with beaming smiles and high pony tails.

I knew Mini was going to be a girl.  When the ultrasound tech asked if we wanted to know the sex I said sure, but I already knew.   In my heart I felt badly for Mike.  Who nodded earnestly, waiting to hear the words “It’s a boy”.  Like every father does.   But I knew.   I was having a girl.

She confirmed my gut instinct and before we knew it our lives became all shades of pink.   Her closet was filled with tutus and ruffles.  As a young toddler, she joined a dancing school and discovered her passion for watermelon lipsmackers.   Just as I knew she would.

And suddenly, we were having another baby.  I could see Mike’s hopes rising again.  Finally, his boy.  But I knew I was going to have another girl.  That was my plan.  All girls.  I pictured sisters.  Playing with their dolls, and later on in life gabbing about cute boys.  I was so excited to be having another baby.  And then I got a call from the doctor.  A test I had taken had come back.   All good news.  Then he asked if I wanted to know the sex of the baby.   “Of course”, I replied.  In the back of my head I was thinking…oh poor Mike.  But then I heard those 3 words.

“It’s a boy”

I shouted to Mike that we were having a boy, as I swallowed the huge lump in my throat.  A BOY!?!  No.  Not part of my plan.  No No No.  Mike was ecstatic.  Dancing around the living room.  Swinging Mini as high as she would go.  So I danced.  And smiled.  And in my head thought, HOLY SHIT.  A BOY????

Then I met you.  The doctor handed you to me and we locked eyes.  I stared at you for a very long time.  We named you Joseph Anthony.  You were the sweetest, softest baby in the world.  And I knew.  I knew I was put here to be your mama.  But I didn’t know how.  I didn’t get the hang of diaper changes and got peed on every day for the first 2 months.  I thought there was something wrong with you because you ate so much.   I watched you grow faster than anything I have ever seen in my entire life.

Then one day I noticed how you looked at me.  With these eyes that a boy only has for his mama.   And I melted.   It was official.  I was a boy mom.

I will be at the soccer fields.  I will be the one screaming the loudest when you score the winning touchdown.  I will know all about video games.  I will refuse, but I am sure at some point in my life you will make me go see Monster Jam and ride a ridiculously fast roller coaster.   And I will love it.  Or at least pretend to.

I will teach you how to be a great man.  How to be respectful and courageous.  To be generous but wise.  To take care of your sister.  I will mother you in the best way I know how.

It’s hard to believe it has been a year since the moment we first met.   I have watched you change from a tiny, sweet newborn baby to a daredevil, strong, lover of a one year old.  You have a heart of gold kid.   You are tough but you are a mush all at the same time.  And you have changed me in a way that only you could.

I am looking forward to the future.   I have never been more happy to have my life take a turn that led me down a road different from what I was expecting.  I am so lucky to have you and to be your mama.  Happy 1st Birthday Sweet Joey.  Everyone should be so lucky to have a son like you.

I don’t know when it happened.  I can’t tell you why I stopped.  I just know that it did.  And that I have failed her.  Somewhere between having Joey and juggling bath and bed times.   Somewhere between packing up in Naples and unpacking in Birmingham.   Somewhere between my impatience from a long day and haste to put her to sleep.

I have failed.

At least that’s what I felt like tonight.  A failure.

Our routine went as normal.  Dinner was quiet, as it was just me and the kids tonight.  We played our dinner time games.  “What was the best part of your day?”.  Mini helped me clean up and raced to get ready for the bath.  Just like every night, they played together in the tub for a while.  Blowing bubbles, splashing, the occasional struggle over who got to play with the fishies.  Normal stuff.  I took a quick glance at my watch and realized we were cutting it close to bedtime.

If you’re a mom you understand.  There is a bedtime.  A “goal” time I should say.  Dinner + Bath + Bed become a race against the clock.  It is when I am sitting there, acting lifeguard, in the bathroom that I start to get antsy.  I think of the food Joey tossed over his high chair tray, waiting to be swept up.  The wet clothes in the washing machine.  The counter tops that need to be wiped and the crock pot that needs a good scrubbing.  Suddenly I feel rushed.  Rushed against my mental clock.  To have them asleep before the “goal” time.  So that I can continue with what I have to do around the house, prepare for the next day, and hopefully, just hopefully, jump into bed a little early, because it is at this time every night that my energy levels hit a wall.

So I pulled them out of the tub.  Brushed their teeth.  Hurried to zip up their footie pajamas.  Flipped on Mini’s lamp and gave her a kiss.  I instructed her to read some books while I fed the baby.  I told her I would be in shortly.

I fed Joey.  Gave him kisses.  Tucked him in.  Made sure he had a crib full of pacifiers and plenty of water in his humidifier.  I carefully shut the door behind me and walked down the hall to Mini’s room.

There she was.  Propped up on her pillows.  A pile of books next to her on the bedspread.  Shoe la la.  Presenting Tallulah.  Frozen.  Storybook Princesses.  They were all there.  And there she was.  Reading.  In the glow of her lamp, my 3 year old daughter was reading herself a bedtime story.  When she heard me at the doorframe she finished her sentence, she closed the book and patted the bed.   That was my cue.  That was the routine.  To remove the books from the bed and climb on in with her.  To play soothing music and whisper secrets to each other until her eyelids closed.

But I couldn’t shake the feeling of failure.  Seeing her read her own bedtime stories.  Making up her own stories as she flipped pages to uncover new pictures.  Sure, I come in to her room every night and we have our nighttime routine.  But since when did that routine no longer involve reading a bedtime story to my child?  When did I get so rushed to beat my “goal” time that I neglected a nightly ritual that I once thought was so important.  That is so important.

I laid there for while, long after her eyes closed for the night and she drifted off to sleep.

As mothers, we try so hard to be there for it all.  Kiss every boo boo.  Clap after every living room dance show.  Tuck our babies in every night.  Read them stories.  Sometimes our plates get too full.  Sometimes we don’t even notice how full they are until they spill over.  I promised myself I would get a pass on this one.  That I will not feel guilty.  That I am sure the past few months of not reading bedtime stories will not permanently damage my child.  That she will still go to college.  That maybe, just maybe, she enjoyed reading to herself.  That maybe it’s not a horrible thing for her to do things alone.

I am not a failure.  I am a mom.  I am doing my best.  I will trip and fall but I will get back up again.  Because motherhood is hard.  And it doesn’t come with instructions.  So it’s o.k. to screw up sometimes.  As long as you get back on your feet and learn from it.  Because we are bound to make mistakes.  Act selfishly.  Lose patience.  It’s all part of the gig.

So tonight, when I close my eyes and drift off to sleep, I will think of my babies.  I will think of the stories I will read to them.  And I will tell myself “you have not failed”.  And I will repeat it over and over again until I believe it.