The Art in Life

I turned 33 this past week, which is officially old enough to where I received birthday greetings from my mortgage broker. Not that it is surprising, since all my friends are having exciting conversations about things like refinancing (DO IT) and the great minivan vs SUV debate (minivan!) and replacing sump pumps (ugh. so much flooding this summer and so much money having to be spent). I am not one prone to simple birthdays, because the extrovert in me (7w8!) loves parties. But covid, budgets, and time being what they are meant that this was maybe my most low-key birthday ever and it was pretty wonderful. One of my older kids unexpectedly had a rough night the night before, meaning I was up from 4:30 to 6. This never happens, but I decided in my parental wisdom to check on them after I nursed Maddie and then rearrange the covers and stuffed animals, waking them up in the process. I will never learn. I was in a truly grumpy mood afterwards, and James in his infinite wisdom did not wish me a happy birthday in those tense dark hours, but instead let me sleep in till 8:30. And behold – the day was redeemed. Which was good, because we had our first real date night planned for late that night. We tried out a new rooftop restaurant and it was so exciting to be out together. The food was not fantastic, but the place was lovely and I probably would have been content eating cardboard if I could do it on a rooftop patio surrounded by twinkle lights. Though to be fair, we did order takeout from our favorite dive bar as so as we got back in the car and picked it up on the way home.

Some birthday things!

I have always had a pink strawberry birthday cake, but since my mom made my traditional birthday cake for me when we visited in August, I decided to go chocolate. My friend Courtney brought us the most delicious chocolate cake I have ever eaten when I had Madeleine and I have made it twice since. The first time it was great, but this second time I tried to make it a layer cake with pour-over frosting… and it was a disaster. A delicious disaster, but it was so ugly that Henry felt compelled to sing the Daniel Tiger song about when something seems bad, turn it around and find something good. In these pics you can see my attempt to scrape the frosting off the plate and reposition it on top, an effort that did not improve things.

I had my eye on this chair for months before it finally stayed in stock long enough for me to pull the trigger, so I am also declaring it a birthday gift. I am slowly and painfully trying to decorate our house, something made harder by both a budget and my own painful indecision. I fluctuate between wanting to decorate everything now because we are living in it so why not, and thinking I should wait a couple years till the kids are done shuffling bedrooms and we can really settle. Anyone else feel this tension?

I want to do a gallery wall on our stairs, but my extensive gallery wall research showed me I really only love them when they are massive and cover floor to ceiling. That is a big commitment. So instead, I am building one in my study, and I’m including this planter in it. I absolutely love it, but when I tried to hang it in our living room, James told me that he refused to live in an Olive Garden. So harsh. My friend Anna is also lettering one of my absolute favorite French quotes to hang up and when it’s done, you can bet I will subject you to Pictures And Thoughts.

As you can see- big stuff in store for 33. But first, I’m going to go eat more of my hideous cake and hug my people – the best birthday things.

Somehow it is already August and the final stretch of summer, though I guess with the strange school year Covid changes, summer won’t really end as usual? We are headed to Kentucky next week for time with family and this past week we managed to hit one of our favorite summer traditions: blackberry picking! Feel free to stroll down memory lane with berry pics from 2017, 2018, and 2019. We got way fewer pictures this year because, um, there are now like a million kids, but we still came home with lots of berries, in spite of the berry terrorism attempts of one 2 year old sassy girl who intentionally dumped them all out.

Might as well start this random summer catch-all with some berry things. This is the best berry pie there is, and I have made it with fresh and frozen berries of all varieties and it is always perfect.

This blackberry dutch baby was also wonderful, though of course one of my children refused it, as is always the case with any fun breakfast I make. Actually, it’s the case with most breakfasts. SEND HELP. Any great and easy breakfast recommendations for a kid who hates eggs, isn’t interested in any sort of fruit, and only sometimes likes cereal? Breakfast is destroying me lately.

The fruit-hater wouldn’t touch this roasted parmesan broccoli either but the rest of us devoured it.

And in the final piece of food news, I’ve been loving this easy cabbage slaw recipe. My mother-in-law came a few weeks back and stocked our freezer with all sorts of main courses we could pair them with easy sides to stretch out our Meal Train. She left us with tons of tasty BBQ pulled pork and it was perfect with a side of the slaw. (Which of course, the fruit-and-broccoli hater also refused.)

Are you watching Indian Matchmaking? It’s my treat when Madeleine needs to nurse and the other kids are napping. This article was really interesting. Any good shows you all are watching these days?

You will notice that Maddie Lo didn’t make it in any pictures at the beginning of this post, as she is at that dreamboat stage where she will sleep forever in the carseat so she snoozes through most outings, which is better for everyone involved. I’m not sure how I would survive a non-summer baby, as the DC heat ad humidity are some of my best tricks for getting newborns to sleep on the go. As for sleeping at home, she is doing shockingly well for a seven week old, and I credit it to a combo of accidental sleep training since I just can’t always get to to her quickly, and knowing more what I am doing each time around, such as employing this amazing swaddle.

This.UGH. It’s funny because it is all too true and sad all at once. No matter where you fall on the spectrum of opinions about schools opening or not, the one thing we can all agree on is that it is a less-than-ideal mess for everyone involved. Henry’s school co-op decided to just cancel and refund tuition for preschool families because we all just said that we had no interest in zoom preschool. But for families with older kids who need to actually be learning- there is no great solution. One thing that was a good reminder was the words from the Lazy Genius in this podcast about not taking our own adult frustrations about closures out on kids. A good reminder for me as I tend to get frustrated about everything canceled and then act annoyed at my kids, when they have absolutely no agency in this decision.

Happy summer weekend all!

As promised, the birth story of Madeleine Lois, in all its very unexciting details. Because truly, I do not have very interesting or exciting births. But not having anything to say has never stopped me from saying a lot, so here we go! In true-to-me form, I was done being pregnant somewhere around 30 weeks, and already banking on an early delivery. Suffering in silence is not my strong suit, so I started asking my doctor for an induction to be scheduled around, say 12 weeks, and made sure to remind them at every turn that I absolutely did not want to be pregnant a day longer than necessary. I tried the following tactics:

“I’m wondering if we should just go ahead and schedule an induction at, say, 37 weeks, since Etta came so fast and it is such a long drive to the hospital.” (Answer: “No.”)

“You know, with COVID, I’m thinking maybe we should just schedule an induction a couple weeks early so that you can control hospital capacity.” (Answer: “No.”)

“Can we schedule an induction so that I can organize childcare- with COVID our babysitting options are few and far between.” (Answer: “Still no,”)

“I think I should be done being pregnant and I am absolutely certain there is no more room in my womb. Can we induce?” (Answer: “Again- no.”)

But, as happened with both Henry and Etta, I did start dilating by 36 weeks, which kept me hopeful. The tricky think with early babies (ok, or with any baby after the first) is coordinating childcare. We were trying to time my mom coming in such a way that she was here before the baby arrived, but not so long before that she couldn’t stay awhile after the baby was born. And unlike with my two other kids, this time around I was actually having contractions the whole third trimester, every one sending me into mad fits of timing and hoping that I could be done. I was also once again Group B Strep positive, and James was back to panicking that we would have a baby in the car on our long drive to the hospital. As I mentioned here, I woke up a couple days shy of 38 weeks with manatee fins where my feet used to be. I had been having fainting spells with increasing frequency the whole third trimester along with some swelling, but this was a new degree of swollen. While terribly uncomfortable, I was not terribly displeased, as every sign of misery was being added to the list of “Reasons to Beg My Doctors to Induce.” Because I am a crazy person and my brain short circuits during pregnancy. I headed to the doctor for my 38 week appointment (being 37 weeks and 5 days and yes I WAS COUNTING EVERY ONE), having informed the children optimistically that I might not be coming home if they decided it was time to let the baby out. The night before James and I had packed hospital bags because I was just feeling so rotten that we wanted to be prepared in case abject misery meant labor. But alas, still no consistent or painful contractions. Yet when the nurse tasked with taking my vitals had me step on the scales, we both recoiled, as I asked, “Um, that says I have gained 10 lbs in one week and that just doesn’t seem normal.” She mumbled something about it actually being 9.5 lbs and made furious notes on her computer before ushering me into the exam room. The doctor came in and casually asked how I was doing… and I completely lost it. As in, SOBBING. In between sobs, I managed to hiccup out that my feet were huge and I wasn’t sleeping and I was fainting all the time and could WE PLEASE JUST TAKE THE BABY OUT BECAUSE I THINK SHE IS DONE. And people, that merciful doctor said yes. Well to be clear, she said I had dilated past 5cm so we could go next door have this baby, but I would require Pitocin so I would have to be ok with that to which I responded YES LORD I RECEIVE, and then I headed next door in a weepy mess. I just googled “picture of manatee crying” to try to give you a visual, but alas, you will just have to imagine it. I paused outside the hospital to call James and tell him to come quickly, but to first go home and get the tray of homemade chocolate chip cherry granola bars my friend Anna had dropped off yesterday because, priorities and all.

I’m going to briefly gloss over the next hour other than to say that it was not pretty. My emotional stability was not, shall we say, intact, and the poor nurse who had to do all my in take questions basically had to deal with a crazy person, not to mention the COVID test that was shoved up my nose and out my eyeballs, constituting the most painful part of my entire labor. But good news! I was COVID free, which meant that while I still had to labor in a mask, everyone was chill when it came off occasionally. Following the test, James showed up, my epidural was inserted, my Pitocin started flowing and I officially entered my happy place.

Because y’all, I freaking love labor. LOVE IT. As in, long before I was ready to have a third kid I was definitely ready to labor. Some other women feel this way, but typically they are the ones who subscribe to the whole perfect miracle of childbirth/ “this is what your body is designed for” rhetoric. Not this mama. I like my births highly medicated, preferably planned, and in as sterile and medical an environment as possible. And yet, I love them. Nothing feels more empowering than giving birth. And if I may climb on a soapbox for a second, I feel that it is really important to drive this fact home because  I feel this way with my pain free and very easy births. There is no prize for labor, no trophy for length of labor or “holding out” against the pain. Motherhood is empowering, so however you get there – tub in your living room, c-section, epidural, stack of adoption paperwork – is worth celebrating and praising. My labors are, historically, fast and easy. When it was time to push I had only been in the hospital a couple hours and a few minutes into pushing, I actually stopped and announced to the room that I wanted to slow down so I could savor it. Yes, they were very weirded out by this. But this might be our last baby. And that powerful moment of bringing her into the world was something that I wanted to really pay attention to, wanted to inscribe into my memory and heart forever. I also informed the room that I felt like a straight up amazonian combo of Beyoncé and Mother Teresa, and they were pretty much like, ok fine just push and maybe keep your mask on.

But I didn’t get to savor it long, because after less than 15 minutes of pushing, she was here – our Madeleine Lois. Our smallest baby, at 6lbs 14 oz, and I wept as they placed her tiny self on my chest. Maddie Lo.

Even thinking about that moment now makes me cry. Because my whole pregnancy, I struggled with her actuality, with really believing that she was real and would be loved and enjoyed. She was an abstraction that I couldn’t connect to. But then she was there, on my chest, her cries filling the room, my tears falling all over her (maybe?) red fuzzy head and the rush of love was so intense that I could barely breathe. My Madeleine, the gift we didn’t know to ask for and could barely wrap our heads around was there and she was absolutely perfect. Now of course, my emotions were not so overpowering that I didn’t place an order for breakfast burrito very soon afterwards, because you know it’s the thing I love only slightly less than labor. I had at least 5 during my stay and every one was as delicious as the last. My low food standards never cease to serve me well in life.

The hospital days are a happy blur. COVID meant no visitors (much to Henry’s sadness), and a third baby meant they pretty much left us alone unless we asked for something. We spent two happy days watching movies and snuggling while we got to bond with our sweet girl. My recovery was insanely easy, a nice respite after the rough pregnancy, or perhaps it felt easy just because I was no longer pregnant and was reveling in my ability to roll over and breathe. Whatever the case, the whole thing just kept on feeling like such a special gift, such a blessing after the hard months that had preceded it. When we brought Madeleine home, the kids swarmed the carseat and Henry, unable to fully process the excitement, just looked up and asked, “Should we sing her a song – should we sing her the Doxology?”

So we did, welcoming Maddie into our house with songs of praise sung- yelled by toddlers over her sleeping head.

Maddie Lo- we are so glad you are ours!

Spoiler alert: We had a baby. And you can bet I will drag you through the whole thing in a blog post at some point, but for today, some images and thoughts from the last few weeks – the final weeks of pregnancy,  and the first few weeks as a family of five. I love labor. LOVE IT. To be fair, I have had pretty easy labors and embrace the epidural, so it’s not hard to love. But I think the real reason I love labor so much is because it means that pregnancy is OVER.  Those last weeks, even of an easy pregnancy, are brutal. And this one was far from easy. I spent the last couple weeks in constant discomfort, pain and exhaustion. Yet there were still some really wonderful moments in there. We had some amazing family outings, backyard bonfires, and special moments. The kids are really into building tents in the backyard and eating meals inside of them, which gives us some tranquil dining on the patio and I am all about that.

I also nested like an insane person in those final weeks. Days before giving birth, I was trying to teach myself how to watercolor so I could paint something to hang over a giant whole in the wall of the guest room. Clearly, this was of utmost importance in those last pre-baby days. I purged and sorted and rearranged and generally did all sorts of crazy things that very few people would ever notice, because we all know that bringing a newborn into a house where the rubber bands aren’t sorted in the kitchen drawer increases the odds of SIDS. Or something. We squeezed in several final hikes and nature outings in those last couple weeks, including one that was accidentally much longer than anticipated, in the hot sun, without snacks or drinks. Was I a little miserable? Yes. Would stationary activity that might have prolonged pregnancy been more miserable? Abso-freaking-lutely. My mom came to town when I was 37 weeks and 3 days pregnant and I conveniently woke up the next morning with feet resembling manatee fins and even new levels of misery.

But never fear! Because at 37 weeks and 5 days, Madeleine Lois showed up and everything became instantly better. I’ve said it before (like here and here and here), but the newborn stage is not where I thrive. This time around though, the first couple weeks were beautifully different. Now, I know that babies get harder before they get easier, and the first couple weeks for many newborns are easy, a blissful cocoon of sleepy babies. But I have used that easy time to bounce back into life. I get back to the park and playdates, the splashpads and to-do lists. This time – I didn’t. I have long mourned the cuddles and sleepy snuggles I missed out on with Henry and Etta, the former because I was trying to establish good sleep hygiene and a schedule, the latter because I was busy and trying to be productive. Those lost snuggles caused more emotional issues than I realized for a long time. With Madeleine, we decided to try something different.I didn’t leave my room much those first couple weeks. I slept in, then spent much of the day holding Madeleine, nursing and snuggling, listening to audiobooks and bonding with my baby. I emerged periodically to see the rest of the family, but I really reveled in that special time with my newborn in a way that I didn’t get to, didn’t choose to, with the others.  This bubble of newborn tranquility was totally due to my mom, who kept the other two away and the house running, and James, who really encouraged me in making it happen.This sort of rest does not come easy to me. I like activity, love outings and visitors and summer fun. But COVID has forced me to slow down, and with so many things just not a possibility, the decision was made easier.

Maddie Lo might be my fussiest baby. It’s hard to remember exactly what the others were like, since your brain erases so much in nature’s attempt to get you to do it again. But she is definitely going to need the reflux meds that brought relief to Etta, and we have a lot of tears in our evenings these days. And yet, they don’t grate on me as much as they did with the other two. I had two weeks of rest and bonding to refresh my body and prepare my soul.Since my mom left, I’ve certainly had to leave my room. But then again, I was ready to. We’ve had some wonderful family outings this weeks, some hard learning moments about life with three, and some big things that we needed to get done (helloooooo minivan purchase!). But instead of feeling burnt out a couple weeks in, I feel empowered. Yes, last night when I had to put all three to bed by myself for the first time everyone got yelled at, Maddie just had to be put down to scream while I supervised bed prep, and Henry tearfully informed me that I was “using my bad voice.”

Because adding a person to your family is hard. But the hard doesn’t feel like it’s outweighing the good or suffocating this time, and I think so much of that is due to those first two weeks.

How many of you did the cloister-away method with your newborns?

I’m going to go ahead and announce that I am squeezing one more blog post in before baby girl shows up, in hopes that this will prove true and she will actually show up. Yes, I am still a couple weeks from my due date. But since Henry came at 38 weeks and Etta at 37.5… I am officially Over Being Pregnant. I have an induction scheduled for 39 weeks, as I like my births highly medicated and scheduled if possible, but I have no intention of actually making it to that date. (Yes, I am real fun to live with right now).

This summer feels so strange in comparison to what I love about DC summers (read: socialization and splashpads), but I nevertheless can’t control my summer excitement. We have been dragging out the sprinkler frequently, swimming in every creek we can find, letting the kids stay up late for bonfires and popsicles, and generally reveling in these long days made even lazier than usual by things being shutdown. I’m still hopeful that some more normal summer pastimes will resume next month, but for the moment, I can’t complain too much. Both kids are currently obsessed with their “tent,” which is actually some sticks rubber banded together and covered in a picnic blanket. They set it up daily over all the outdoor furniture pillows and beg to eat every meal in there, and I usually let them. I am raising summer-loving babies and it makes me so pleased.

Here are some very important things that I absolutely had to let you know about before I check out with my newborn.

This table hammock made from a sheet was a big hit for my kids.

If you are a parent, you might cry laughing at this. If you aren’t, it will make absolutely no sense.

It can be really daunting to stay on top of the news, especially as we are all weary of virus-related happenings. My friend Liz is an amazing journalist covering COVID-19, and she has developed a daily email newsletter where she sends one expertly chosen article each day. They cover a wide range of virus related topics and opinions, but all are well-written and fact-checked. She also gives a summary if you don’t have time to read the whole thing. It has been such a helpful way to have constructive media exposure.

This has been our favorite podcast of quarantine, teaching really great (and often obscure!) Bible stories for kids. Like, my kids know about Naboth’s Vineyard. We also love this one, for nonspiritual entertainment. The train love had waned at our home, but both kids are hardcore back into it, and I am pumped, as train mess is my favorite mess and train play lasts for hours.

If you have summer strawberries sitting around, this cake is my favorite way to eat them up.

We made these grilled chicken sandwiches last week and they were phenomenal, even for someone hating meat in the third trimester like yours truly. I used some of my sacred Chick-Fil-A sauce stash on the kids’ and a million pickles on mine and skipped the relish.

We make pizza every Friday, and we used to always rely on Trader Joe’s crust. As going to the grocery is trickier now, I decided that I could master making homemade crust. I tried a bunch of sub-par recipes, before my cousin’s wife suggested this one and it is perfect. Bonus! It only rises 10 minutes and rolls out without any breakage or trouble.

So few positive things in the news, but someone finally found the treasure!

Finally finished this and it was so beautiful and deeply satisfying. I’m reading this book now and convicted by pretty much every word. How different would the world look if Christians actually loved their neighbor? Also reading (ok, listening to) this bookand it is so weird but really gripping.

The past couple weeks there have been so many deeply convicting and thus unsettling words to read around the internet in response to racial injustice in this country. It has prompted good and hard conversations with our own kids about race and equality. I am not going to pretend to be an expert on any aspect of this conversation, but I did want to share two articles that have stayed with me, one on a Biblical response and one on a conservative response to systemic racism. I think that phrase makes many people really defensive and I appreciate how this article explores what it actually means. I was really excited to get this book that I am adding to our collection to approach this discussion with our kids in a biblically centered way. There are a lot of things that have been discouraging surrounding the discussion of race in recent weeks, but one thing that is truly encouraging is how many parents I am seeing taking seriously their job of starting this process in the home with their kids.

And on that note… hopefully I will not blog for weeks and weeks because there will be a newborn to snuggle. But if not, I’ll probably show up annoyed and wordy at some point.

I recently found this post that I wrote a year ago and forgot to ever publish because it was right around the time that we were moving and my brain was goo. As I am about to once again be walking that path of new motherhood, I decided that there was no time like now to publish an old post with dated pictures and timeless truths. These are the things I wish someone had told me when I was a new mother, the things that I repeat to myself still because you never really totally figure it out.

1. Use the night nursery. When you get those two glorious nights in the hospital following birth- pass off your sweet baby to the friendly nurses and have them sleep in the nursery. Yes, you may be gasping and shocked because how could you possibly want that sweet baby taken so soon after birth. Here’s the deal: when you go home- YOU are the night nurse. Enjoy two nights of thinking everything is easy and go home rested. They won’t traumatize your baby or force bottles and will still bring them back to nurse, but that gentle ease into nights with a newborn is so wonderful.
2. Take everything. If it is not bolted to the hospital walls- take it. Grab the diapers, the wipes, the ice pack panties and freezey spray. Take it all.
3. Hold them while they sleep. Your baby will sleep independently at some point. If you are sleep training, that point is actually going to be very soon. But at first, in those first bleary-eyed months- just hold them. They are squishy and perfect and you will regret trying to make a schedule happen earlier than it needed to.
4. Watch more TV. Your infant is not being scarred by endless TV while you nurse. And frankly, you can only do those TV-nursing sessions endlessly the first time around, because then you have other kids climbing all over you. So settle in, snuggle down, and watch TV.
5. They don’t remember anything. My life was littered with post-it notes in Henry’s first months, records of schedules that worked, only to have them be obsolete the next day. Because those first months, they remember so little. Every day is a wonderfully clean slate. Hear me: you can mess up daily and it is ok. 
6. Sometimes babies just cry. It’s not because you ate dairy or nightshades, or because they are teething, or because they are undertired/overtired/going through a “leap, “etc. Sometimes they just cry. That’s all they have to communicate for a very long time. So if there’s a solution, great. But if not – don’t lose your mind trying to find one. And stop trying to eliminate everything from your diet. You will go insane.
7. There are no bad babies, but there are hard ones. And if you have a hard one, that’s ok. You can still love them, but it’s also ok to enjoy them a little less. Remember- they don’t remember it. Your baby isn’t being bad when they don’t sleep, won’t nurse, scream forever- but they are being hard. It’s ok to not enjoy it all.
8. You are basically an emotional mess now. And you should probably take meds. Because you are a chaotic blend of hormones and if you feel really miserable, you should get help. Medication is fantastic and can help you mother the way you need to. Don’t wait so long to ask your doctor for it, and know that once you do, so many other mothers are doing it too.
9. By the time you potty train, you will have dealt with so many bodily functions of another person that you won’t even be phased.
10. PBJ’s are so good. And stop trying to put them on wheat bread to make them healthier. Slap them on white bread, cut off those crusts, and pass them out. They are so delicious. It really isn’t a bad idea to make a tupperware full of a couple in the morning every day so that you can hurl lunch at your toddlers whenever they get hangry.
11. You aren’t going to lose the weight. Some moms will, but you won’t. And it will be deeply frustrating and discouraging, but just know that each time you get pregnant again, you will look back at pictures of when you were desperately trying and failing to lose weight and realize that you looked fine.
12. No one cares what you are doing. They really don’t. That doesn’t mean people won’t make snide comments, just that you probably will think they are more snide than they actually are. Everyone is muddling through this parenthood thing and wants to talk about it, which can look like judgement. Toughen up. No one actually cares what you are doing, so stop worrying about if they do or not.
13. An Ikea crib occupied by a 100th percentile in height almost three year old somehow has room for an almost 6 foot tall adult and is surprisingly comfortable. It is always worth it to climb in and snuggle.
14. Taking steamed broccoli to the park instead of goldfish doesn’t make you a better mother. Neither does having your baby sleep through night earlier or poop on the potty earlier. Not liking every minute doesn’t make you a worse mother, neither does letting your kid eat ice cream before they turn 1 or forgetting to brush their teeth as much as you should or letting your kids play barefoot in gross puddles in back alleys. What makes you a good mother is acting on that desperate love that bubbles up inside you and letting it overflow. What makes you the best mother is being the one that your kids need- not the phantom kids of the mother on the internet or in books.
15. You won’t regret it. You will have regrets, failings that you replay, moments where you emphatically are not having fun. But you won’t regret the decision to make your life harder by having kids. It will be fuller, and sometimes that makes it hard to breathe or think or process or sleep. But it is also so full of so much light and joy and goodness.

Earlier this week, this little man turned 4……and this tiny girl turned 2!Should you ever have the chance to have babies with birthdays a mere day apart- I highly recommend it. Someday they will resent the shared spotlight, but that day is a long way off. For the moment, they just think it is incredibly exciting that they get to celebrate together and their parents think it is incredibly exciting that we get to consolidate parties. Figuring out a way to celebrate these two in the middle of a pandemic that prohibits social interaction was tricky. While Etta would accept whatever, Henry knows about birthday parties and has been really excited about his for quite some time. He is my extroverted boy, and while he has mostly accepted the pandemic restrictions, he misses his friends and really wanted them at his birthday. Plus, I wanted them there. Birthday parties for young children are partially for the kids, but also for their parents, a chance for us to gather with our community and celebrate that we are all doing this crazy kid thing alongside each other. And I still want that, even if life is not going as planned right now, a visual reminder of which is below, with Henry playing the role of 2020 and Etta representing ALL OF US. We spent the whole day on Memorial Day celebrating their birthday. I walked to the grocery to haul back those ridiculous balloons before they woke up and they were ecstatic. Late morning we had a drive-by birthday party with a bunch of his friends. We put a table with donuts and juice boxes on the sidewalk and a steady stream of cars came by with the friends and family that we miss so much right now. Our kids were in heaven. Henry spent the whole time running along the edge of the yard and yelling at all his crew… while Etta loved it from a distance and then opted to play in the car for awhile because she is our introverted soul. Their friends left signs, balloons, cards – so many little tokens that remind me that our community stays strong even when we can’t be together as frequently.

When the last car drove away, we packed the kids off to naps in a sugar haze. While they were sleeping,  cupcakes from my brother and his wife showed up…… which was fantastic, as the cake I let the kids make was truly unappealing. Since we were trying to celebrate in a safe and sanitary way, we decided donuts that parents could serve to their kids were a better call than cake. Knowing that no one would really be partaking in this cake, I let the kids have full artistic control. They went crazy, using stale Christmas cookie decorating supplies and toy trains to create the pile of color and sugar that you see below. And they loved it. When we were talking with the kids about how to celebrate, Henry was adamant that he wanted to “marshmallow hotdogs” over a fire. I fully support both the use of marshmallow as a verb, and roasted hotdogs, so we ended the day with a family bonfire in the backyard. James’ brother rode up on his motorcycle that morning and gave Etta this stuffed animal and it has rarely left her side since. Highly recommend a fire pit for those of you in quarantine. Since we have spent a lot of time in our yard the past couple months with more to come, it has been such a fun treat. Behold, my babies and their cake. Henry was very concerned about Etta grabbing the flaming candles (rightfully so!) and so even though it may appear like he is shoving her away from their joint cake, I promise that his motives were pure. There are so many things I could say about these two and the past four and two years of them in our lives. I said a few things here and here, but it is so hard to sum up these two little lives and all they mean to me. Instead, I will just say that watching them celebrate their day together made me impossibly happy that they have each other. This pregnancy has been really hard for a number of reasons, and emotionally and physically I wouldn’t say I am always doing so great. But during our whole day of celebrating Henry and Etta, I kept on thinking, I am so glad I get to give them another sibling close in age.  I am so glad that this duo will become a posse of three and that they are close enough in age to really enjoy each other. I am impossibly happy that our kids get to have each other.

Happy birthday Henry and Etta. You are each other’s best gift and the greatest gift to our family.

(Other birthdays here, here, and here.)

Making : Lesson plans for my French courses in the fall. I taught high school French I online this past year and loved it and I am adding French II in the fall. I want to get alllllllll my lessons plans for the semester done before baby girl shows up, as I expect/ absolutely know that my mind will be frazzled late summer. I’m also starting a new job in the fall and want to save bandwidth for that. And now back to short(er) answers after that brief professional update that none of you asked for but hey – if you have a high schooler who wants to learn French and recently found out they won’t have their regular school in the fall… hit me up.
Cooking : I’m back to hating cooking this pregnancy. Unfortunately, it still has to happen, though we have been grilling a lot lately to lessen my cooking load. I recently thought of how many meals I will have to prepare and plan the rest of my life… and promptly wanted to die. James and I did the math and it’s like making a meal for everyone at the Super Bowl. BUT, we have had some winning meals lately, like this favorite InstantPot dish, this easy chicken and tomato dish, and everything we can throw on the grill (brats! burgers! this parm-butter steak!)
Drinking : Iced lattes from my Mother’s Day gift of an espresso machine and these when I want to pretend like I’m enjoying a glass of rosé.
Reading: Still reading this book and loving it, but finding it hard to find time to read lately… a sad change from last year’s renewed focus on books!
Wanting: Some splash pad days this summer. I’m feeling it’s unlikely but I can’t give up the hope of those hot summer days around this city. In the meantime, we are wearing swimsuits when we hike and treating creeks like pools.
Playing: Trains, as Etta has just gotten into them, and a game Henry calls “Tent” which is basically where we haul stuff around the basement and prepare meals in the woods and discuss how to avoid getting eaten by bears.
Watching: We just finished all the seasons of The Walking Dead on Netflix and Y’ALL I love me some zombie apocalypses. But I learned that Rick Grimes is not returning and I’m so devastated that I’m not sure we will make it to season 10.
Wasting: Baby wipes. We potty trained Etta early during quarantine so we haven’t needed as many, and Etta lives to wipe down her baby dolls… and every other surface in our home/car. It’s totally worth it.
Wishing: That someone would find an amazing way to open schools as usual in the fall. There are so many things I miss, and my kids aren’t even in school, but the effects of school closures are just so hard for our communities.
Enjoying: All the AMAZING local and regional parks and nature reserves in the area. We have been hitting a couple a week, hiking, splashing in streams, chasing animals, and generally loving being outdoors. Pretty sure my children think the real danger at the moment is poison ivy instead of coronavirus, and in our day to day life – they aren’t wrong.
Waiting: For this baby to come. And I shouldn’t say waiting  very patiently either. In spite of having a lot to do before she gets here… I’d be fine if she showed up tomorrow because I am done.  My kids are pretty awesome sports about continuing to play when mom falls asleep on the floor in the middle of the playroom or has to suddenly lie down with ice packs on her head mid-play to avoid a fainting spell… but I would really love to be functioning better. And yes, newborns are hard and exhausting, but both times around it has been physically a relief to have the exhaustion of a newborn compared to the difficulty of the final stretch of pregnancy.
Liking: This pillow. It’s the only thing that has resulted in any quality sleep since early on in this pregnancy.
Wondering: What this summer will look like with a newborn. I only have one template for surviving those early months, and it is being out as much as possible, letting the heat lull my baby to sleep in the stroller, and surviving through the constant presence and support of our community. Not sure how much of that is possible this time, and I am grieving that in my own way as I wait for her to come.
Loving: Our backyard. Tomorrow marks one year since we moved into this house, and the backyard and covered patio has been such a haven and joy to our family. It’s usually cluttered with toys (and dishes- do your kids steal all your kitchen stuff too???), but we have put in some plants and mulch and hanging flowers and nothing makes me happier than time spent in that little space.
Hoping: That we get a new dishwasher this week. Ours died right before Easter and I’m ready to regain the time I spend washing dishes.
Marveling: At how my kids play. Yes, there are days when I want to pull my hair out over the bickering, whining, tattling, etc. But since quarantine started, we have had more time to concentrate on the skills of play and our treatment of each other, and I see the fruits of it in the relationship my kids have and the play they enjoy. As Henry proudly announced recently, “Etta is working on her imaginary!” Henry’s imagination and world shifting moves so fast that James and I can barely keep up, but Etta is learning to plunge in and join him.
Needing: To pick a name for this baby. It’s so hard! I am still shocked that we are having another girl because that never entered my mind and I have nothing.
Wearing: Gap maternity leggings all day, erry day.
Noticing: How I am no longer capable of getting out the door on time. Quarantine has given us wonderfully slow mornings… and I’m not really sure we remember how to hustle out the door anymore.
Knowing: That this time will pass, and I am so eager for it to go because I miss so much of normal life, but also knowing that I will think fondly on so many parts of this strange time – especially how much more we get to see James.
Thinking: About my babies turning 4 and 2 this week and how that makes me feel (weepy, giggly, terrified, excited… all the emotions for them growing and developing).
Feeling: Like everyone, the restless feeling of being ready for what’s next, even if we don’t quite know what that is.

If you thought a global pandemic would spare you from an Easter photo onslaught- THINK AGAIN. See that fear on my children’s faces? It’s not because of COVID-19, but rather the crazed look in my eye when I informed them they had to pose for a picture before being allowed to hunt for eggs.Or as James put it, “A global pandemic is no match for my wife’s iron-will to achieve family photos. ” Absolutely. Slightly happier. I’ll take it.

When social distancing started, I was truly hopeful that we would be back at church by Easter Sunday. I love Easter at our church, love the celebrations and traditions we do around that day to help our family mark and cherish it. But the weeks leading up to Easter were such a good reminder that our circumstances to not change the fundamental truths that we celebrate on Easter and every Sunday. Even though it is chaotic and loud, I look forward to our Sunday mornings as a family, gathered on the couch streaming church. A lot of snacks are dolled out to keep the peace, and I can’t say that I have been able to fully focus on the sermon each week. But our children are seeing that we get to worship and rejoice from anywhere, in any circumstance.

In the week leading up to Easter, our church gave all the families packets of things to do with our kids to celebrate Holy Week. As a very not-crafty mom, I appreciated having packets with all the materials and idiot-proof instructions. We made palms and waved them on palm Sunday, with Henry yelling “Hosanna!” and Etta initially yelling “MOANA!” but eventually figuring it out. We did some crafts and lessons throughout the week and tried to impart the truth of the Resurrection in a way that our kids could understand. And on Easter morning we blasted hymns, let the kids yell Hallelujah and celebrated the greatest miracle. It was so different, but it was still special and good. After church, I forced everyone into real clothes for an Easter egg hunt. Our kids pretty much ate candy as they found each egg and the sugar crash was REAL. But I loved watching them excitedly dash around looking for eggs. What candy they didn’t consume we confiscated and then have continued hiding eggs and letting them trade in what they find for the remaining candy. Don’t let her grim face fool you- this girl was living her best life. That person behind Henry? My mom. The best blessing of the past month. This pregnancy continues to get rougher, and managing my health along with home, working without childcare, etc, has been hard – as I know it is for everyone. Following weeks of appropriate measures on both our parts, my mom was able to come for a week around Easter and it was the relief we needed. Had to document one of the only times I have worn real clothes since early March, and maybe the only time I will be dressed up this whole pregnancy. Every Easter I look forward to forcing my boys into bowties. Happy Easter!

Clearly, these pictures are not from the past month, as we are having fun with people outside our household. But they are from a perfect rainy day hike on Roosevelt Island with friends early in March and I just came across them and wanted to share. Because someday we will play with friends again! This morning Henry (in a Shaun the Sheep costume- a suggestion btw, if you need a non-obnoxious kids show in your life) and Etta delivered some bags of Easter goodies to a couple friends (maintaining a safe distance, usually with a fence and yard between us and them) and they have been in the best mood every since, brimming with happiness that their friends still exist somewhere out there.

And now, a list of highly trivial and unimportant things.

This would be the perfect swimsuit coverup. Not that you need to coverup, but as we spend a lot of time in urban splash pads,  and my varicose this pregnancy are terrifying to all who glimpse them, so I have been searching for the right coverup.

I had to put this book aside to do a Book Club pick recently, but I’m really excited to pick it back up because what better time to read about a Russian count sentenced to life in a hotel than when we are all quarantined?

My friend Anna tossed us a bag of these after we left goodies at her house and they are the Hot Cross Buns of my dreams, which I have never successfully made.

I’ve been getting caught up on grading and some online lesson prep in the evenings these days and watching a couple things of note. Loving this, although it is pretty different than the book- anyone else think so? Mia on the show is kind of … mean? I also have turned to the comforting presence of British period dramas in these uncertain times. This was so good… only to DEEPLY UPSET ME when I found out that they wrote it intending to have a second season, but it was canceled. So the ending was VERY unsettling. I also rewatched this and have big plans to watch the movie soon, but I’m just not sure anything can top the miniseries.

Made this for dinner earlier this week and it was the recipe I didn’t know I needed in my life. Creamy tuscan chicken to use up some of the insane amounts of spinach we have! I served it with potatoes, but I wish I had just had it solo alongside some crusty bread to sop up sauce.

In love with this swimsuit for Etta, as it is a knockoff of the adorable but ungodly expensive ruffle swimsuits from here. Of course, I keep on putting off buying clothes for my kids because who do we need to impress these days??? We are looking pretty ratty and I don’t even care.

Favorite lipstick these days. You know, for those Zoom meetings you want to feel extra special.

Making this for Easter morning because I just never get tired of yelling “He is Risen and so is the monkey bread!”

Really sad to be missing our annual Easter extravaganza with friends (see here and here) tomorrow, as well as our Easter service at church. But also so thankful that our faith isn’t bound to ceremonies, traditions, or walls, just as our Christ was not bound to a tomb.

Happy (almost!) Easter!