For Nate & Ashley

(Enjoy with a side of Mootzarella.)

How I will make millions

The boys have had runny noses this week. Nothing major, except for the booger sleeves that have become Sharks' latest fashion statement.

You know how it is: nose runs, sleeve wipes. Kleenex? Not even on the radar.

And multiple shirt changes all day long are not very enjoyable. For either of us.

I started scheming ways to teach Sharks the importance of wiping his nose elsewhere. Like on a tissue or hanky. But that seemed impossible, because there are moments when I don't even realize he's been sleeve-wiping all morning until it is much too late.

Enter my amazing invention #1 - like babylegs, but with the express purpose of protecting sleeves. Wipe away, little buddy, your sleeves will stay snot-free all day long! Mommy can simply change out your Sleeve Savers.

Then I realized that Sleeve Savers are not the answer because they do not address the real problem. The real problem being the nose-on-sleeve wiping.

Enter amazing invention #2 - same idea, except that the Sleeve Saver would be made of the scratchy side of velcro. Put it this way. The sleeve would lose its status as #1 BEST and EASIEST (not to mention GROSSEST) place to Wipe Nose. I bet it would only take one wipe for the little dudes to come running for a kleenex.

Chet said it is certain to become a big seller, right up there with baby wigs.

P.S. I just googled "Sleeve Saver" because it was such a good idea I figured someone had already beat me to it, and this is what I found. WOW. I have no words.

Reality

Sharks just pointed at my belly button and said, "That the baby's nose, Mama?"

Sheesh.

(At least he gets the concept of a baby being in my belly...I think.)

Well, aren't you a hoot

Sharks has been cracking us up recently. Here are some of our favorites:

"Ooh, there's white and yellow [cheese]. How awesome is that!"

"Pops, praying is fun. Actually, it's heee-lar-ious."

"Let's name the new baby God. Or Avi [what he calls my dad]. Or Bob."

Why Oh Y

We joined the YMCA in June. I used it pretty much every day for about two weeks, maybe three. Then I got pregnant and going every day dwindled down to every other day, which turned into twice a week, which became never.

Until I stepped on the scale yesterday and realized that I had indeed done it again. Ten pounds in 3 weeks. Believe me when I say that I am not averse to pregnancy weigh gain. Not in the slightest. There is something I love about getting bigger and bigger, odd though it might be. My sister and I even came up with some wonderful phrases to describe each trimester of pregnancy - pleasantly plump, large and in charge, and finally rotund and no fun. I just think this time, healthy weight gain would be better. So far, I have been all about the sweets.

So to ease my conscience (and to make use of our year-long Y membership) I went to work out yesterday. Nothing ambitious, mind you. Just 2 miles in 30 minutes on the eliptical. (Let's be honest, even Sharks could do that.) But it was great.

In fact, I enjoyed it so much, I took the kids back to the Y in the afternoon to go swimming. They loved it. I wasn't sure how it would go, seeing as the last time we went swimming, Chet was with me. But loading them up with flotation devices worked. For the first time ever, Sharks tried to swim without his arms flung around my neck.

By the end of our swimming time, he didn't want me to touch him at all. Victory!

For my husband

We have a joke around here that I spend more time creating schedules and plans then I actually spend putting them into practice. And unfortunately, that's the truth. I live for a crisis; in fact I often leave things til the last minute in order to create a crisis (not consciously, that is just what happens), but the day-to-day consistent stuff is a constant struggle. I have a feeling that it will be a struggle for ever.

I get excited about a plan I have, I do a superb job at it for around one week, then it fizzles out, time and time again. Come to think of it, I do that pretty consistently - start things I don't finish. Awesome. Just kidding. That is not awesome.

I don't know if there are other moms that also struggle with this. My attempts at routine and scheduling are not intense, yet somehow I cannot manage to stick to a plan. Most of my friends describe how their husbands have to tell them to rest and to take a break from cleaning and tidying up. I am pretty sure that has never (and will never) happen around here. I am especially conscious of this lack of consistency as I raise my children, as I alluded to here. If there are others out there like me (hello? do you exist?) I would love to hear how you combat this.

Here are some of my attempts at organization and scheduling:

I actually stuck with the schedule on top for about three weeks. Then I got sick, overwhelmed, and the thought of digging out of the hole I created for myself (example: laundry) was more than I could handle, so I gave up.

Because he loves me, my hubs knows when I need a little encouragement to get back on track with my schedule. Check out the note he left me this morning - it made me smile. He even gave me something to look forward to. Sweep, mop, then a cup of tea. (No, the incentive of a clean kitchen floor is not enough to get me going. I've been trucking along just fine with the floor exactly as it is, thankyouverymuch.)



But because I love my husband and because his note was so endearing, I followed his instructions and now I am enjoying my clean floors. And my tea.

21 weeks

(Sorry I chopped off my head.)

I just switched doctors and I had my first appointment with the new one (who is actually our primary care physician) last week. Oh, the look on his face when I told him that with my previous pregnancies I had somehow (read: lots and lots of EATING) managed to gain 12lbs in one month. He tried so hard to not look dumbfounded and then said, "Let's try not to do that again."

Yes, sir.

I'm guessing that the chocolate chip cookies I made last week, the pumpkin cheesecake I made twice this week and the flourless chocolate cake I made at the same time was a bad idea, huh?

On the plus side (soon to be plus size), my maternity clothes are fitting wonderfully.