Because I can't post yet about my double-secret-probation project

As always. Julie beat me to the punch. And says it much better than I ever could. Want to know my thoughts on Mother's Day? Read this.

Got it?

Now. Even with our disagreements, my husband does a great job telling me what a good Mama I am.

Very near daily, he tells me how lucky he and the kids are to have me, and that I take great care of them. Especially when he is out of town, like this week, he makes a point to tell me he appreciates what I do to keep things running.

He notices when I do laundry, and when I clean the house. On nights I cook (more often than not), he points out how good the dinner is and has the kids thank me. On nights I don't want to cook, he offers to pick something up or take us out.

How can I complain?

Really, I can't.

Though if I could ask for something...

I'd really like an outdoor clothes rack. Not so much for the winter, but running the dryer in the house in the summer? Not when there's plenty of sunshine and breeze.

Really. That's about all I'm wanting for right now - thing-wise.

Not thing-wise? I'd really like a day of unfettered crafting. Imagine what I could do with that...


...

And then there were three.

Take a walk with me, won't you?

While we were growing up, Husband and I discussed several things of importance to us. We'd get married after we graduated college. We'd buy a house before we had kids. We'd have two kids and I wanted to have them by the time I was thirty years old

All but one of those happened.

Our first child - we took the goalie off the ice in April 1999 and wanted to see what happened. I shouldn't say it that way - we knew what would happen, we just didn't know how long it would take. Imagine my surprise when we have a baby January 1st, 2000.

When our oldest was 20 months, we started talking about #2. I wanted them fairly close in age, and after all I wasn't getting any younger. I can remember the distinct conversation in the car. We were driving to my parent's house and I casually mentioned (as casually as you can mention having a baby) that if we got pregnant now, the baby would be born in May. May 12th to be exact. Yes, we're that good

By this time, we're content. The house, the cars, the kids, all we were missing was a white picket fence and a dog.

Then it happened. The girl was 3 and Boy was 16 months old. We were getting ready for the Halloween party at the neighbor's. I pulled the pregnancy test out of the grocery sack and held it up. Showed it to Husband, and he said, "What's that for?"

What, exactly, do you think?

Halloween 2003, two blue lines.

I'm 29 years old.

Color me surprised, but it certainly explained a few things: the general ache, the topsy-turvy tummy, the narcolepsy.

The next several months went by in a blur.

How are we going to do this? This is going to cost... money... diapers... clothes... college...

How am I going to do this? I don't make enough money to put three in daycare. How, oh how, will I stay home with three kids?



Before we knew it...

It was time to go.

Go time.

Got there just in time too. We arrived at the hospital at 7:30 and she was born at 8:20. Not a doctor in sight. Just two nurses, my husband, and me. I cut the cord. That is truly a sight I will never forget. There was no sheet, no stirrups, just me squating in the bed while they're telling me not to push. I saw her head come out, and the rest just followed.

Yes, it's hard.

Yes, it's messy.

Yes, there are still days when I think, "What have I gotten myself into?"

Yes, it might not be what I planned, but it's what I have.

Submit to it.

The rest just follows.

Make the most of it.

Julie... It will be alright. Promise.

Good Read

I wish every dad would read this and take it to heart...

"As a guy with daughters, I have a few thoughts for you. The worst mistake you can make is to treat Sam differently than you would a boy — female is not a synonym for fragile. At the same time, take your cues from her and don't try to turn her into a boy.

Sure, give her a toy golf club to play with, but don't be surprised if she wraps it in a blanket and rocks it to sleep. Wrestle with her every day, but learn how to braid her hair and be prepared to log some hours assembling tea parties and dollhouses. Take her to the driving range, and then to ballet. Teach her how to putt, but let her paint your fingernails pink. Bottom line: Help her discover who she wants to be and support her every way you can.

Finally, take a big, deep breath and jump in — don't ever pass up a chance to change a diaper or read Sam a story. It has to be a little intimidating to be married to a former nanny, and it would be easy to let Elin deal with all the hands-on baby care. But remember this: The way she got to be good at the whole taking-care-of-kids thing is by making a ton of mistakes. And the only way you're going to feel confident as a dad is by making a bunch of your own."

From Armin Brott's Letter to Tiger Woods.

Before and After - The Four Year Old Version

I don't know whether to laugh or cry.
















He's growing up and I can't stop it.

For now, I'll laugh.



(gratutious shot of the two year old)

Note to self...

The only time you're disappointed is when you expect something in the first place.

Now... off to the gym to work off my pent up aggression.

Not yet...

My husband asked a couple weeks ago if 'we' needed to put away the winter gear.

I replied, "Not yet, maybe in another month or so."

Sure enough. We're supposed to get 2"-4" inches of snow today and again Thursday.

Perhaps this is our pennance for the mild winter. Sure, it's mild.

It just doesn't want to end...