The Tot....

So, my Bitty Bean...my Taylor Tot...she just insists on growing up.

My terrific, tom-boy, third-girl, tone-deaf Taylor Tot will be FOUR on June 7th.

Where in the world did time go???

Just a second ago, we were on our way to the hospital to meet her.

Apparently my abdomen had run out of room, so she decided to move out 4 weeks early.

Which meant I was actually in pre-labor during her baby shower.

Oh, Macaroni Grill, thank goodness for your massive portions and loaves of bread. I have never felt so well-fueled for labor as I did for meeting #3.

My sweet little Bitty Bean is about cute as they come.

(Even the nurses in the NICU thought so....but I'm pretty sure they say that to everyone)

And that cuteness has just kept coming.

Which is why, after 7 years of being "Mama"....I just threw my first FOR REAL birthday party.

Yep, you read that right. I've never thrown a full-on shindig for a kid birthday before.

I am not a good pinterest mama.

At all.

BUT, when that little Bean looked up at me with her huge brown eyes and said (ever so sweetly), "Mommy, can I have a tea party for my birthday? A fancy one? Like Fancy Nancy? With all my favorite friends?"

I knew I had to throw a party.

(I haven't had the brain space, the energy, creativity, or the time to party-it-up prior to now. I have no intention of doing 4 parties a year from now until the end of time, but I can see them happening every now and again. Which is pretty exciting for all parties involved.)

So a Fancy Nancy Tea Party was born.

My friend, Heidi Rew, has an AMAZING blog called Parties for Pennies, and she was kind enough to help me by coming up with a spring board of ideas. She is really quite fantastic - in real life and in blogland. Between whimsical baby showers,  fun, themed grown-up parties, and gorgeous wedding receptions - there is no end to her creative side.  She was my RA back in college, which means she is an excellent listener, functions exceptionally well on minimal sleep, has patience like no other, and owns stock in tissues. (I was a bit high maintenance in college. Who am I kidding? I'm a bit high maintenance now!)

Back to my party....

If I was a good blogger person I would have taken pictures of the totally-amazing-if-I-do-say-so-myself invitations I MADE. Yep. I crafted them of paper and glue. And I felt AWESOME. I made little tea cups that invited you to come "Par-tea" (get it???) with Bitty Bean for her 4th birthday.

But I'm not a good blogger person. Because I was so excited about how cute they looked, I couldn't wait to pop 'em in an envelope and hand them out. Not until AFTER I handed every single invite out did I realize I forgot a picture. Oh well. That's just how it goes sometimes.

I actually contemplated making another one just to take a picture to show you....but I decided I have better things to do. Like watch The Voice. ;) 

Basically, I traced half of a bowl on a folded piece of paper and cut it out. Then I cut a heart out of another pattern of paper, trimmed the inside out, glued the edges inside the "cup", and then wrote the party stats. Didn't take forever....only about 3 episodes of Arrested Development.  It was a good night. (If you are dying to see one, I will try to make one up)

Bitty Bean has this gang of buddies that are super tight.  Most of them have been in the same Sunday School class and Cubbies class for the past year, and they all get to hang out at Mom's morning out every week.  They are a great bunch of girls and I was thrilled that she thought of all of them.

However, I had to break a birthday rule in this house for the party to happen. We normally (as in, always before now) only allow the birthday kid to invite as many friends as they are turning old. Hence, 4 friends would have only been allowed. The problem is, this girl-gang? It is a gang of EIGHT.

Rule broken.

I am quite certain that will be brought up from now until the end of time with the older 2 girls whenever they want to invite more friends...."But Moooooommmmm! You let Bitty Bean have SEVEN friends when she was only FOUR!"

I think we'll make it a case by case basis from now on. ;)

These fantastic poms were made by a friend for a baby shower...I borrowed them to make our party extra awesome. I don't know how she had time to make those - Ain't nobody got time for that!

Anyway, back to the party prep....

I decided to make twirly skirts for all the girls to take home from the party....which was a great idea in theory.

I mean, I had read blogs of amazing women who bake and clean and shower and get dressed and sew fantastic items for their children and always greet their husbands with a smile and take amazing pictures of everything.....and these stupid lying crazed talented women suckered me in to believing that I too could easily whip up TWELVE skirts. And the house would not cave in on itself in the process.

Well, I made the skirts.

AND THEY LOOKED AWESOME.

(clearly, this post is full of fodder for why my children are lacking in the humility department)

If you would like to jump in the crazy wagon along with me, feel free to click the tutorial by Dana Willard from Made on how to make the circle skirt 

(aka - the easiest skirt ever but it will make you look awesome).

 

The pink material is a bed sheet I bought at the thrift store for $0.50. 

That's right. 

Take that, Pinterest moms.

AND

 The ruffly skirt? 

Especially made for Bitty Bean?

 I made that pattern up. IN MY HEAD.

Seriously, I don't even know myself anymore.

I've never ruffled anything before last week.

Well, not fabric.

I've managed to ruffle lots and lots of feathers over the course of my life.

After the girls arrived, there was an impromptu dance party to Disney Princess songs while we were pulling all the food out.

For our lunch....

We had Pink Lemonade in tea cups

 PB&J, and Turkey and cheese sandwiches cut into stars with cookie cutters

 Chips and pretzels

and

Fruit - brought and prepped by my sister...it was really the last thing in the world I wanted to be doing!

none of which was photographed. 

But it was all eaten!

 There were a lot of pinkies in the air....quite a bit of clinking of glasses...and plenty of girl talk.

After opening presents, everybody changed into their swimsuits.

Between Me, My Love, and My Sis, we had quite the sunblock assembly line going. 

Everyone thought the pool was a splendid idea and loved getting sprayed with the hose....

almost.

Poor Boy Bean was a little tired and ready for some of the women to leave his domain. 

His cousin was not bothered by the hordes of woman around, and played happily for the duration.

Mid-way through pool time, we brought out the brownie (Bitty Bean always requests a brownie instead of cake!), sang happy birthday, and ate excessive chocolate.

Overall, I'd say it was a pretty grand success. 

Even though I had planned a craft and a story, we didn't end up doing either one. Which everyone seemed fine with - they just wanted to play together anyway.

At the end of the day, I just wanted my little munchkin to feel loved and special. 

I'm pretty sure that was achieved, because when I told her what food we were eating she looked at me in all seriousness and said, "Mama! You remembered!"

I may not always call her the right name, or remember how much she weighed at birth off the top of my head, but I will always remember how much I love her.

All the way to the moon and back.

~Whitney Copyright 2013

A milestone...

Last week, I wrote a post to My Little Dude on his 2nd birthday. This birthday was kinda a big deal. A big deal that wasn't fully registered until Sunday. (And then it really wasn't processed until yesterday)

Turning 2 meant my Boy Bean adventured out of the baby nursery...and on to the toddler side. He is now in an actual Sunday School class. He's with big kids. He is in the same class as Bitty Bean. And he LOVED it. (So I gather, he still isn't saying much)

But it was oddly challenging for me. This is why: Sunday was the first day in 7 and a half years that I didn't put a baby in the baby nursery. You would think it wouldn't be challenging - and it wasn't.  But it was. It is like every single phase - full of hope and excitement and nervousness for what will come; tinged with sadness knowing certain things will never happen again with my sweet beans.

I know the day is coming - speeding towards me - where my little beans won't be little. When they will no longer need to be tucked in at night. When their soft, little hands won't seek mine when they are nervous, or frightened, or scared. The diaper bag is being replaced with the backpack, the ballet bag, and sports gear.

In fact, this Sunday was full of another milestone - our String Bean had her ears pierced. She's growing up too. She's no longer that little baby girl I knew.

And I'm happy. I'm thankful for the gift of watching my little people grow up. I ache for those who don't have any more moments to hope for in this life.

And I'm sad. Because these next moments will disappear as fast as the last ones...maybe faster. I will turn around one day, and these sweet little ones that fill all my moments and need me and want me...they will no longer be little. They will be off on their own adventures and I'll be left with them filling my heart and not my home. They will be capable to handle their needs and, hopefully, some of their wants.

How do they grow so fast?

I'm also sad because I know there will be numerous milestones reached over the next year  - and My Love will miss them. When he returns from his deployment, most likely, every child will be in a new phase. And we won't get those seconds back.

Parenthood, such a perfect pairing of happy and sad. 

Of overflowing, heartbreaking, LOVE.

~Whitney
 Copyright 2013

Psycho

I love being Mama.

LOVE it.

But.

This last week, I would have really, really, really liked to have a substitute. A stand-in. A wife-of-my-own.

I've had my fill cleaning up bodily fluids....all 5 of us had the flu. It was awful. TERRIBLE.
I'm tired of comforting someone else while concentrating to re-lift my eye-lids.
I'm tired of waking up every 30 minutes dealing with someone's nightmares.
I'm tired.
Really, REALLY tired.

And I'm tired of laundry.
24 loads in one week...and one still on deck.
(For some strange reason, I thought it would be interesting to keep a running tally of how much laundry I had to do when the flu hit our house. The jury is out on if this was encouraging or demoralizing.)

In fact, I'm so very tired of laundry....that I might have gone slightly psycho today.

My Bitty Bean - whom I love, even though she is still allergic to pooping in the toilet - fell asleep in the car on the way to piano lessons.

After String Bean raced inside, and Jumping Bean unbuckled, and I unloaded Boy Bean (who had to be carried because his shoes were miraculously eaten by the Swagger Wagon), I went out to wake the sleeping munchkin.

She had an accident.
All over her princess dress.
All over her car seat.
Into her brand new running shoes.

I didn't have a spare outfit, or shirt, or anything.
No panties.
NOTHING.

So with 3 wipes and a too-small-diaper stolen from her brother, I cleaned her up and covered her business.  But it was chilly tonight - she got pee on her jacket - I couldn't just let her go naked!

Typically, at least one of the girls is wearing numerous layers and could spare some article of clothing; not this time.  I was wearing my basic workout pants and top...although they were not worked out in today. (gotta stay honest)

I gave her my shirt. She thought that was the funniest thing EVER.

Then I zipped my fleece up to the very top. 

As I was placing Bitty Bean's soaking wet things in a bag, I just started crying.
I honestly don't really know why.
It could be because I'm tired.
Or because I didn't want to have to go home and do dinner and clean up and homework and bed time. Or maybe because I feel extremely behind schedule because of when the flu hit.

But no, I am pretty sure I was crying because I didn't want to do any more laundry.

I had spent most of my day rescuing the house from our illness...but when we returned it was still a wreck.

Dishes.

Laundry.

And one very industrious 5 year old who thought decorating the kid table with a pencil was a good idea.

We danced through dinner. (A complete cop-out for me, I made pancakes.)
Then we all snuggled down in blankets on the floor and watched Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer as dictated by our Advent Calendar/shoe box.

And you know what?

I love being Mama.

LOVE IT.  :)




~Whitney Copyright 2012

Rock Star

So, you know those parenting moments where you are like "YEAH! I am TOTALLY AWESOME!!!"

You know the kind where the children are angelic and the entire evolution turns out BETTER than you imagined?

Well, tonight was not that night.

(Last night was though!)

Backstory...

For the first time in the history of me being a mother...we are doing an Advent calendar. I grew up with an Advent calendar full of chocolate and remember LOVING it. So, I thought I'd do something similar for my beans...but with a twist.

Twist 1 - candy only happens on, like, 3 days.
Twist 2 - there are activities, service to others, special memory making moments, and a couple gifts, scattered throughout the 24 days.

To put tonight in perspective, you need to know that Saturday (day 1) was a home run. I mean the kids LOVED opening the box full of envelopes and seeing what the day would hold.

"Write a letter/draw a picture for someone you love who DOESN'T live in our house"

They raced to the box of paper and crayons and sat down to create...Bitty Bean chose her Sunday School teachers, Jumping Bean choose her kindergarten teacher, String Bean chose her 2nd grade teacher, and Boy Bean picked his Papa. (For real - he pointed at his picture and said "yes yes"!)

all in jams heading to the lights!

Sunday (day 2) found us putting jams on and loading in our swagger wagon to hit up some Christmas lights. Norfolk's Botanical Garden does an AMAZING job and the children LOVED it. Squeals of delight, echoes of "WOW", "look at that!", and "it is sooo beautiful!"filled the car for 45 minutes. Total and complete WIN.

So today (day 3), when they raced to the box with eager anticipation, I was pretty sure tonight would be another WIN.

"Have marshmallows and hot chocolate for dessert after a cheese fondue dinner."

I mean, c'mon. How fun is it to dip food in cheese? Broccoli, wienies, bread, cauliflower...all things they love...being dipped in their favorite melty cheese!

Well, apparently, the texture was "totally weird." (String Bean)
And the taste was "gross and sour" (Jumping Bean)
And the consistency was "icky icky sticky!" (Bitty Bean)

Boy Bean is currently my favorite because he ate it (begrudgingly), but since he doesn't speak, I don't really know how he felt.

Bitty Bean and Boy Bean actually didn't eat lunch....they weren't hungry. So I felt terrible making them go without dinner too! I offered to make them a PB&J. Which they each consumed 1/4 of.

Poor Jumping Bean and String Bean had hearty lunches - and the volume with which they protested our special dinner did not earn them points.  No alternate food option for them.

Onward I persevered, thinking surely hot/warm chocolate and marshmallows will gain favor with these ridiculous food critics!

Nope.

Too hot.
Too cold.
Lumpy.
Messy.
Sticky.
Even the Boy stuck his tongue out at the marshmallows!

Oh well. You win some and you lose some!

Guess we won't have any birthday dinners at the Melting Pot. :)


~Whitney Copyright 2012

Oh Poop.

You think your job is crappy?

It is unfortunate for my children that I have a blog. 

Because, when we have experiences like we did this week, I put them on the world wide web. 

No longer do embarrassing stories stay relegated to the baby book or the birthday dinner. 

Nope. 

Now they are easily accessed by anyone in the world. 

At any time.

Payback is sweet.

Poor, poor, Bitty Bean. She has regressed in her potty training. For some reason (Most likely because My Love is away) she has not pooped in the toilet for the last week.

She has pooped. Just not on the throne.

(Which is odd because she has not had a problem with it for over 6 months, and I totally call it a throne and let them be Queens when they use toilet.)

I would like to say that I have been a calm, kind, and loving Mommy every time I have scraped poop out of her underwear and then washed them in the toilet.

I can't. 

I have lost it and gone close to stark raving mad most times.


In fact, on Thursday when she called my name from upstairs and I went to see what she needed and I looked up and saw naked business covered in poop, I might have popped a blood vessel. But when I went in the bathroom and accidentally placed my bare foot in still-warm-poo on the just-mopped floor...quickly lifted up my foot...lost my balance....and planted my foot in another piece on the freshly-washed rug....something snapped.

I told that little Poop Power Plant to stay right where she was. Then, I went into my own bathroom and muttered many unwritable things under my breath.

Eventually, I was able to clean her, the floor, the rug, and the toilet up.

So, that all brings me to Saturday. Saturday. The day where Boy Bean decided it was his shift at the Poop Power Plant. Before I continue about him, let me say - he has pooped every day this week. Like clockwork. Mid-morning and mid-afternoon - perfectly on schedule.


But Saturday would have convinced anyone that the work site had been under construction for a while, because, he loaded 9 - NINE - poop diapers.

I apologize to the neighborhood for how much my trash bins stink. 

I wasn't upset, or even annoyed. Clearly, he needed to clean out his system. However, the veritable straw that broke this Mama's back....came from the Bitty Bean.

She was quiet - which is always wildly disconcerting in this house of insane mayhem - so I went hunting. There she was, hiding in the living room, with a green cloud of smog surrounding her.

This time, I didn't get angry.

I sat down and cried. 
Real tears streamed down my face...my nose was already running from the smell.

Quietly I took her and the Boy to my bathroom to clean her up and bathe them both.

And that is when I discovered Bitty Bean's current poop in her panties....was her 2nd of the day. I knew that because, dear people, there was poop clearly smeared on the front of my toilet...on the toilet seat...and a slight smattering on the floor.  As I wiped the tears and squared my shoulders for the next cleaning job...

She slowly turned her big, brown eyes at me and said, "I just wanted to clean it up!"


And then, I laughed. And showed her how to use a Lysol Wipe.

At least my bathrooms are getting clean!

~Whitney
 Copyright 2012