Category: Other Lunacies

In the fall, my oldest daughter said of her one-year-old brother, “That boy will be two before you know it! It’s like I always say: where there’s a baby, that baby will just keep on growing.” The seven-year-old is wise.

Last year on this day, I wrote this post about my little guy, and he has indeed turned two before we knew it.

And while it was a bit of a blur, we are happy to report we’ve kept Fielder alive this year, because we all know that’s a feat with toddlers. He has scarcely left my sight in the past year lest he kill himself or others.

Our kitchen chairs have not been upright for months since he likes to climb. Our couch is steam cleaned constantly due to kefir spills, one of the few food items he accepts (though he’s made progress with his food aversions in speech therapy since starting in the spring).  Neflix is often tuned to Trolls or Moana, and he also has a deep appreciation for Peppa and Elmo (El-no).

Gramps and Daddy are his favorite people, aside from me. He asks me all day, “Where Dada go?” Sometimes he wakes in the night, where he typically sleeps beside me, and yells, “Dat Dada!” as he points at him.

He is a man of few words and even fewer tricks, but he has retained yelling, “Touchdown!” with hands stretched to the sky like a good coach’s boy. If he sees the YouTube emblem, he says, “Oh oh oh?” because he wants to watch Beyonce’s “Single Ladies.” (He’s such a dude).

School starting in the fall messed with his sleep schedule and he wasn’t happy about it.  Now that school is out, he refuses to nap, instead night owling with his mama.

Fielder is easily amused and could entertain himself for hours with a cup and random objects to fill and empty the cup. He shreds every piece of paper he finds. He is often shy and quiet but eventually tries to fist bump everyone in the room. He likes to travel and is always happily along for the ride. If I can choose just one child to accompany me to the store, I choose him.

He’s quirky and fun and sweet and my favorite little dude. My biggest hope is that his constant cuddles don’t cease anytime soon, and that three won’t arrive so swiftly.

(And also, that he would nap).

-Amanda

Post in collaboration with Beddy’s Beds; opinions, as always, are my own.

Of all the household chores I detest, changing sheets may top the list.  I defer that task to my husband most of the time; I prefer to avoid working up a sweat while I fight fitted sheets and try to figure out which way to turn the top sheet and comforter. And then it just creates more of a mess to add to my laundry pile. Ugh.

Enter Beddy’s Bed’s to solve my quandary!

As soon as our new bunk beds were delivered last month, our girls started dreaming of the accompanying decor they wanted. I knew I did not want to fight the sheets from a bunk bed ladder (Grace is NOT my middle name), so I quickly steered them toward Beddy’s. Bedding sets that go on without a struggle and are adorable? Yes, please!

My oldest squealed with joy when her “Pretty, Pretty Purple” set arrived. I also squealed with joy, because Beddy’s makes prepping the top bunk easy. Because everything is built into one piece when zipped, I only had to fit the bedding on four corners one time, just like adding a fitted sheet. (Except somehow, this actually fits well, unlike a fitted sheet…or maybe I really am just putting those on sideways. But no room for error now!)

Each night, my girl unzips her bedding and snuggles in. When she wakes, she zips it closed and arranges her pillows and stuffed animals, and it always looks perfect. Did you hear that? The beds of my five and seven-year-old look perfect because the bedding is foolproof.

My soon-to-be kindergartener rarely wets the bed, but she had an accident the first night we added her new Beddy’s set. With normal bedding, this amounts to an entire day affair of washing and cleaning. But this was an easy fix. I zipped apart the Beddy’s so the top piece separated from the bottom, washed and dried them per the instructions, zipped the two pieces back together, and we were back in business. Seriously, that simplicity alone made this bedding worth it.

Miss Kindergartener’s “Get Happy” bedding  is as bright and cheery as she is, and she is able to easily make her bed each day with the unique easy pull zipper tabs that run along the entire length of the bed, on both sides. One of her favorite features is the snuggly minky interior.

Now if I can ever boot my toddler from my bed, I’m getting him his own set!

From now until June 17, save 20% on your order with code PAPA20 here:  Beddy’s

 

I don’t understand people who wear shoes in the house.

My sister currently lives in an Asian country, where it isn’t customary to wear shoes in the house, and I totally get that. As for me and my family members, you will find us barefootin’ all day, errrr day.

So when I tried out Dearfoams, I was skeptical. I haven’t owned house slippers for years, and when I did, I found them to be annoying and too warm.

The first day I wore these, I forgot I had them on. I made it to pre-school pickup before I realized I was still in my house slippers. Luckily, the workers and parents are used to my hot mess self, so no one batted an eye. Plus, the style I chose, the Mini Stripe A-line, wouldn’t have alerted them to my comfy footwear anyway since they are so much more stylish than the quacking duck slippers I used to rock.

But the best function I’ve found so far for my Dearfoams is a defense against LEGOs. Oh my goodness, the LEGOs. We have an entire section of our basement devoted to the tiny torture pieces, but God forbid one of us has to pass through. But fear not, I’m now armed with the best slippers. When I recently stomped through the area bleary-eyed to start my work for the day, I didn’t even realize I had passed through the danger zone unscathed. My husband watched me walk throughout the house without fear today as I donned my Dearfoams and said he was jealous.

Today only, they are having a sale with the code SAVEMORE. Go check them out at dearfoams.com!

My five-year-old also says my slippers would be perfect for parties! I’m not sure I’ll try her suggestion, although the pre-k parents wouldn’t be shocked if I did.

While I received this promotional product as a courtesy, all opinions are my own.

As we snuggled together for the last night she would ever be four years old, she asked for pancakes with strawberries and blueberries on top for her birthday breakfast, and even whipped cream.

“‘Cause whipped cream doesn’t scare me anymore,” she said.

Our little Pearl Girl, our raven-haired and blue-eyed beautiful middle child, is as sweet as she is quirky.

When we began to discuss what she might like for her birthday gift, Lucy listed items her siblings would enjoy. For Christmas, she wanted an upgraded pretend kitchen so she could play alongside her brother and sister.

She recently underwent a sleep study at the end of a long day in which she was already sleep deprived. We explained the procedure to her before she left home, and she smiled and skipped off to the car with her pillow and plushie in hand. She waited two hours as the professionals connected numerous cords to her body, even one up her nose, smiling all the while. Lucy charmed the nurses so much that they showered her with gifts when she woke and declared her to be the best patient they’d ever had.

While she is particularly brave for medical procedures, she is generally cautious, having eyed the slides at school for 7 months before finally deciding to test them out. This week, we were shocked when Lucy  tested the water slide at our vacation spot. Unfortunately, none of us thought to mention she should hold her nose. She popped up out of the water looking shocked, but never said a word about her pain.

Gratefulness comes easily to Lucy. At a live music event, the musician found out it was her birthday and sang her request, “You Are My Sunshine.” She insisted on writing him a thank you note and delivering it to him before we left.

Lucy is kind and quiet. She looks after her brother, worships her sister, keeps the whole family laughing, and otherwise resides in her own little world. She doesn’t like sudden change, but could spend hours playing with her Shoppie dolls, Legos, Barbies, and plushies. She likes to eat pasta with her mama, the beach is her happy place, and yellow is her favorite color.

Last year brought many new challenges and adventures for her, such as starting school and learning to properly express emotions when classmates annoy her. She has battled through health struggles with grace and joy. Lucy is a ray of sunshine and a blessing to many. We can’t wait to see what our little five-year-old will accomplish!

A Few Of Lucy’s Favorites


 

Tomorrow is a holiday in my household.

My husband is a Pats fan, and so he has become quite spoiled when it comes to cheering for his team in the Super Bowl. But while he nervously roots for Brady and Co., the rest of us will eat.

My brother-in-law and sister-in-law always kill it when it comes to the food setup and our contributions are minimal, but I will always bring my favorite party staple: iced sugar cookies.

I’m no pro baker, but these cookies are always delicious, even if not perfectly executed. My kids love to help in the kitchen, and this is one of their favorite baking projects. We make a simple buttercream frosting and add food coloring to decorate.

What is your must-have for the Super Bowl?

Here’s the link to the recipe (and I recommend rolling the dough out on parchment or waxed paper and not using flour).

 

I’ve suddenly become painfully aware: I’ve missed a lot of life because of my stuff.

This week has been one of snow days for my family. My teacher husband, Matt, and my school-aged girls have all been home, and it has been wonderful. I’ve caught up on laundry for the first time in literally years and the sink is empty, too, a phenomenon I don’t remember experiencing in a while (if ever). And today, we delved into organizing and purging toys and other household items.

Oy.

I told Matt I couldn’t deal with the toy situation any longer because I’m suffering from decision fatigue (which I had to convince him was a real thing). He started sorting and quickly filled two large totes with items to discard, then decided he’d had enough.

And the basement, where all things go that I don’t want to deal with in our living and sleeping spots, is still overflowing with stuff.

This feels unbelievable sometimes, because this summer, I hosted or took part in three garage sales and sold boxes and boxes of items. I’ve sold a few dozen items on ebay recently and have donated even more. When my sister moved internationally this fall, I helped her sell her items and also delivered tons of my own to local buyers. So where did all the stuff I don’t even want come from?

Sometimes I’m really not sure, but I do know this: I like clean lines, neat and bright spaces, no clutter. I don’t like piles of magazines, laundry, dishes, toys, or paperwork. I particularly don’t like the management of items taking over my days.

And moreover, this week, while full of accomplishments, was not a relaxing play time with my kids or hanging out with my husband that it could have been thanks to the snow. No, I’ve mostly been frantically sorting all the things and trying to figure out what stays, where it goes, and what leaves.

I plan to update here on the status of my efforts. This purging and organizing what’s left is my biggest goal within my three 90-day goals for a reason: I’m trying to cultivate a more purposeful, simple life. I would like to control my stuff instead of it controlling me.

Leave me a comment and let me know how you manage all the stuff in your home!

 

Home

I first remember getting in trouble with him at our baby sitter’s house when we were five. One of the other kids had been drawing pictures of butts, and since the entire group of kids of course giggled about it, we were all punished for the crime.

I knew I liked him in first grade but by fifth the feeling was mutual. We wrote letters back and forth, shared a few long, mostly silent phone calls, and avoided one another at school. When my best friend asked if I wanted to wear his jacket – which I think was a pretty sweet faux leather Jordan number – I asked, “Why? I already have a coat.” He moved on in the sixth grade, but I never really did.

We spent the next four years as friends, until he asked me to Winter Ball our sophomore year of high school. That was almost 18 years ago, and we’ve been inseparable since.

All that history considered, I’m a bit of an expert on my husband, Matt. Since today is his birthday, I thought I’d wax poetic for a moment.

Matt is witty and clever and fun. He likes to quietly observe but is adept at adding the well-timed smart comment. He has the best laugh and uses it often on reruns of The Office or his oldest daughter’s sassy remarks that sound much like his own.

During one of the hardest times we’ve endured together, we made 8-hour round-trips to a specialist several days per week while we both held full-time jobs and other responsibilities. It was exhausting and often hope-crushing, but that’s not really what I remember about that time. I remember Matt making me laugh until I cried, and then he would do the same. I remember him singing loudly to country songs, rapping horribly and belting out power ballads in his little pickup on the road trips. I remember that after we received bad news, we would drive to the all-you-can-eat Italian place and drown our sorrows in pounds of pasta and three lava cakes each.

We were on our first anniversary trip when he took a call from his former coach, who asked him to join the coaching staff at his alma mater. He did so, and officially launched a career in which he’s impacted numerous lives for the better. I can’t tell you how often I’m stopped by former students and asked to pass along news to him. I was in the post office last week when a friend told me he had heard through the grapevine how much the kids love Matt at his current school. A note received from a student on how he inspired her in her future career path brought me to tears (and I’m not a crier, except a laugh crier or an anger crier, thank you very much). He may be your stereotypical teacher/coach in a small, rural school, but that’s where the typecasting stops. He takes his job seriously and is excellent at what he does.

Each year, I live for the holiday season, and a huge part is because Matt will be home and he will take over cooking. He can re-create any fantastic meal we’ve ever had, his homemade noodles and fish dishes being among my favorite. He even built his own homemade grill and smoker over the summer. We are a perfect team in the kitchen: he cooks, I bake. No one wants the dishes. 

Every night he doesn’t have a game, he plays with the kids after dinner, administers medicines, fetches snacks, helps them bathe and dress, brushes teeth, and reads stories to them before they fall asleep. Then he does whatever needs done in the house, preps for work, and hangs out with me. Sometimes I wonder what I’m even doing around here, because I certainly don’t have the laundry caught up.

Following the birth of our firstborn, I was in bad shape and taken into surgery. Matt scooped up our daughter, not certain I would be returning, and forged a bond with her. He gives equal attention to our two youngest as well, and makes it a point to plan special outings with the kids. He is patient and kind, unless you wake him at 4 in the morning. Just don’t do that.

His obsession with the Patriots is perhaps over-the-top (I mean, when our oldest came down with the flu this year on game day and we couldn’t go anywhere, I know he felt bad for her, but he wasn’t disappointed otherwise). He has followed Tom Brady’s career since he was a quarterback at Michigan. This kind of loyalty to what he loves is evident in every facet of his life.

Matt is athletic and also so competitive, and not just in sports. We keep records of who wins Ticket to Ride in the game box, and he likes to brag about his overall record.

In short, he’s the best guy, and I’m lucky I realized it 30 years ago and that he’s agreed to do life with me for the past 14. Happy birthday, husband. I’ll cue up the Frasier episode and have chocolate cake for you when you get home from your game.

We’ll watch White Christmas, Christmas Vacation, Elf, and Home Alone.

We’ll bake cookies for Santa, play Bingo for rewards like soap and toilet paper, and gobble up Chex Mix.

We’ll stay up too late, wrapping presents by the glow of the tree, singing along to carols in the background.

We’ll scribble out the Christmas cards and stick on the festive stamps.

We’ll make those last-minute trips to the stores to pick up the items we forgot on all the other trips.

We’ll take in the Christmas Eve candlelight service at our church, welcoming the chance to be still and to ponder the reason for the season.

Sometimes we do these things with great heart and other times, we go through the motions, doing all the things we think we should do to observe the holidays. I recall one particular Christmas Eve morning when we received the news yet another round of fertility treatments had failed. We were crushed. Later that day, we spent time with extended family, small children running everywhere, and it all felt so hollow. But as we continued to go through the motions that year, we slowly started to feel our burdens lighten. So many of the traditions we observed each year had been part of our experiences since childhood, and they brought back welcome memories that forced some of the clouds hanging overhead away.

We know too many people who have lost loved ones this year and they weigh heavy on our hearts during this season. Sometimes, those remembrances of days gone by will be too much for them to bear. Yet, there’s a magic to this time of year that seems to help many of us remember our blessings in spite of our sorrows, to help us remember all we’ve been given instead of all we’ve lost.

The romanticized, idyllic version of Christmas I hold in my head rarely comes to pass, but I will enjoy every moment I can. I’ll sing along with Rosemary and Bing and drink the good coffee and eat pastry while I watch my kids open presents. I’ll pull my favorite board games from the closet and hope someone will join in, and I’ll leave my tree and lights up past December 26, at least until Epiphany. And most of all, I’ll drink in the wonder of the season.

Sometimes I feel like Charlie Brown, who said, “I just don’t understand Christmas, I guess…isn’t there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?”

So I’m grateful for the Linuses, who remind me. “Sure, Charlie Brown, I can tell you what Christmas is all about,” said Linus Van Pelt. “’For behold, I bring unto you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the City of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.’ And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God, and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.’” (Luke 2:8-14, KJV)

“That’s what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown,” said Linus.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

Everyone I know shares the same meme in the tenth month of the year: a beautiful scene of fall leaves with the Anne of Green Gables quote, “I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.”

And as much as I agree with the sentiment and think October is beautiful, at least in my neck of the woods where we do experience a true change of seasons, I otherwise hate October. (Don’t gasp, I’ll elaborate in a moment).

So today, on the first day of November, I’m facing a bit of a conundrum.

Christmas is my favorite. Twinkly lights are my favorite. But it is not yet Thanksgiving. And decorating for Christmas and removing all the orange and brown accents from my home feels wrong this early.

But I think I’ve found the answer.

I’m going to put up my Christmas tree and add Thanksgiving décor.

Since I typically have no less than four trees decorated for Christmas, as well as wreaths and tchotchkes all over the house, this isn’t an extreme solution, and just thinking about it has me excited for the coming holidays.

Technically, it doesn’t fit into my current goals of buying only what I need, ridding of what I already own that is no longer useful, and moving toward minimalism.

But look at this pumpkin pie ornament and tell me this isn’t a good idea.

We’ve always waited until the day after Thanksgiving to decorate for Christmas. If you celebrate, when do you decorate?

*Why do I hate October? This one in particular has been filled with illness and loss, but I just generally dislike the month. My husband is a football coach and I am a sports writer, and by October, we are worn out. I pick up both kids every day until football is over, and the trip to get just one child kills an hour of my day. My household projects, which had been progressing in late summer, are once again chaos. My kids love Halloween but it always coincides with either games or deadlines and as a homebody, trick-or-treating stresses me out. I guess I feel about October as most feel about February; it’s when I most notice the loss of summer and freedom and the thrill of a new school year has worn off.