Forever and Never

I can't even tell you how long it has been since I have been to one of my favorite places in Nebraska, and no it is not a favorite because of the geography or the specific people there. It's a favorite for the atmosphere, the sheer number of hours I spent working, thinking, and writing here in my early 20's (because uttering a phrase like that doesn't instantly age a person or anything), and yes - for the coffee.

This morning, I got to spend a carefree morning, as much time as I wanted, at my beloved, The Coffee House in Lincoln.

I was so pleased! And also so surprised by how much has changed in the undeterminable amount of time since I was here last. The CoHo has seen numerable shifts in decor, seating, and paint colors (and even front doors) since I first started coming here as a sophomore in college (yes, friends and I would drive in from Crete just to spend evenings here working and studying; then, in grad school, I was also a frequent face but that makes more sense for a UNL student), but something about this morning feels quite different. Gone are the plethora of mismatched chairs and wild displays of local art (although based on hanging wires and hooks, that might still happen on occasion, just not currently), and the back of the coffee bar is exposed in new ways, to me, at least. Yet the same glass mugs (and super delicious mochas), eclectic music in the background, and unique cast of characters filling the tables and line at the counter as well as those behind it, are enough to tell me I am here. I am in one of my sacred spaces.

I get it. It's a coffee house (So not true. It is THE Coffee House, but I digress). Maybe it shouldn't be such a big deal; but being here, by myself, on a quiet and drizzle-filled Saturday morning, with nothing but time to think, write, and enjoy my coffee, is an extremely rare gift.

Although I've had time away from the home front in the last year, none of that has been terribly chill. In fact, the only time I've been away has been for weeks/weekends filled to the brim with trainings. One might think going to a yoga training would be a relaxed, Zen-ed out sort of vacation but those weeks/weekends are always super intense, physically and emotionally, so no. No down time away in a very long time.

But this weekend I am away, for the first time since Mr. Lincoln's arrival, with Ben, and since he is currently finishing up a morning of meetings at a conference he's attending before we get to ride off into the sunset of actual, honest-to-goodness adult time sans Littles for the rest of the afternoon and tonight, I have time and space and anywhere in downtown Lincoln I want to walk to spend my morning. Naturally I would come here.

How perfect that one of my favorite places, a place I consider to be part of myself even if I haven't been here since a child or two ago came into my life, can feel totally different and completely the same. I can't think of a better analogy for adulthood and parenthood and the growth we are sometimes blessed enough to experience in this life. Like my dear CoHo, I have changed since my last visit. I look different on the outside and some internal changes have been made, too. But at my center, like this place, I'm still me. Same heart, same core. Forever seeking, forever expanding but always striving to be my best, most authentic self. Embracing what is Now. Both forever and never still.

Life in flux. There really is no other way. And with good coffee, quiet spaces, and a little time every now and then to think, all is indeed well.

What about you? What places have become spaces where you can return, sometimes after years, and still find yourself in just the right spot?

Field of Dreams?

Lately the hubs and I have been just terrible about staying up late at night. For him it is grading papers from school and the start of baseball season. For me it is the reading, reading, reading quest of my ever-present book list and, on some nights, the mountains of dishes and/or laundry that I've put off for days and finally have to deal with because, you know, people who don't live here are coming to my house the next day and that's about the only thing some weeks that gets me to attack said mountains.

In case you were wondering, the children still get up way too early every day. School also means B & HD have to be out the door bright and early, so why we think staying up late, for any reason, is a good idea is really lost on me. Especially today when I have a jam-packed schedule of teaching but we thought it would be wise to stay up past midnight last night at which point my brain was really on GO! Mode and I should have just kept reading my book because it had to have been close to 2 a.m. before I was finally asleep. Am I rambling? Am I awake? Can't be sure at this point in the day.

All of this is to say, I might be a little out of sorts right now. Ben, too. But we both agreed this morning that we'd have to dig deep today and not let our tiredness turn into pure crankiness, and certainly not directed at the children who would probably prefer us to be more well rested, too (although, if that were really the case, they could also try this fun thing called sleeping in on the weekends. I hear it is great.). Tired and potentially cranky-making factors all considered, we are still at so far, so good for the day. Granted, we've both been caffeinated and were probably counting down the hours until bedtime all day long, but even with self-inflicted sleep deprivation, the Welschies pulled out a pretty good day, in part because we've all been outside, enjoying the fresh, warm air that Spring seems to have (finally) brought for keeps.  Geez - the Faulknerian sentences again. It's like I'm back in Senior Sem at Doane again!

Of course, because this is Nebraska, it was windy again today which kept us close to home this morning, but this afternoon I decided to declare my own little Walk to Work Day which I decided would also be the jumpstart of regular walking that I hope to do from now until the end of my pregnancy. Yoga is awesome, as always, for my body and soul, but since I can't quite do everything I'd like to on the mat right now, I need another way to work and release tension from my physical and emotional states. After today's kick-off, I would say Mission Accomplished, on both accounts.

Since our house is a little over a mile-ish from the studio, I thought walking myself down prior to teaching my second class of the day (prenatal) would be a great idea; the bonus of there being Family Yoga today (i.e. B & the kids would be joining me later and I could catch a ride home) helped. Even with walking into a direct, sometimes rather strong wind, the whole way was enjoyable. It felt good to get moving like that and just be with the thoughts in my head. No music. No phone. No talking. (no books!) I need more of that.

After set up and prep for class, I settled in at the front desk only to realize ten minutes later that no one was coming to join me. This has happened once before since the start of my prenatal class and it just goes to show that even in a town the size of Hastings, getting the word out about a new opportunity can be tricky, especially when said opportunity is directed at such a niche, target audience. I waited a bit longer just to see if any mamas-to-be would breeze in late, but when it was clear I really was on my own for the day, I packed up my things and decided to walk home. If I'd had a book to read, I probably would have stayed there and waited for my next class to start but since The Bump and I enjoyed the walk down, I figured we'd enjoy the walk home, too.

About half-way back, I was trucking along thinking about all the things I could say after surprising my husband by turning up back at home already, some of which included a line of "What am I doing wrong? Why aren't people coming to class?" questions when I quickly realized I needed to stop. Not walking, but that kind of thinking, for sure.

Attendance at a class, whether it is full or a goose egg, is not all about me. There are so many reasons why individuals choose to go to a yoga class (or any fitness class) and while instructor preferences/styles may play a role for some, I know in the end I can only control myself and my actions; I am not powerful enough to control others. And that's a good thing. I don't want to carry that much weight on my shoulders or feel that sort of pressure. I do want to bring my best and strongest offering to each class I teach (yes, even on days after nights that were too late and too short), because that's what I can do - that's what I can control. I can also take ownership of my attitude and response to both full and goose egg days, knowing that so long as I keep showing up, so will others, and again, it is about them, not me.

It was a totally a If-You-Build-It-They-Will-Come-sort-of-pep-talk-to-myself moment.

Before I had gone another block, a helicopter suddenly came into view. It was headed for the helipad at Mary Lanning which I happened to be walking by at that exact time. Along with the intensity of sound that accompanied the chopper, came a huge wave of pregnant-lady-emotions that startled me more than anything. I'm always one to say a quick prayer in my head when I hear sirens (I figure that those at both ends, receiving and giving, need all the good thoughts and well wishes they can get and have been doing this for most of my adult life), and having lived near enough to ML for long enough, I now do the same whenever I hear helicopters, too. Today had to be a first, though, of having one come in to land directly over top of me. Among the rush of thoughts that went through my mind were: "Holy crap. That is scary-loud noise."; "What if that thing is flying in for somebody I know?!"; "I need to call everyone I love and tell them what they mean to me!" (which, for the record, I did not do).

OK. Laugh if you like, because those are some pretty dramatic reactions (may I refer you back to the aforementioned pregnant-lady emotions and lack of sleep???), but my eyes welled up with tears and my throat got super tight as watching the helicopter go over head instantly put everything about the day into perspective. I am blessed that my family has never needed such medical attention. I am blessed to live in a place where I can walk to work without constant fear of fights or gunfire. I am blessed to do work that fills my soul and continues to teach me about life, even when the days do not go as planned. I am blessed.

Thankfully I also had a handful more blocks to go so I could let my weepies and sniffles come and go before I had to take off my sunglasses and talk to other people. The walk gave me just the right amount of perspective, not to mention exercise, and big dose of gratitude. Not bad for a day of running on just four-ish hours of sleep.

Post Script: Day Two of Walking Mama

Day Two after a crappy night of sleep is usually my worst. I'm at my most sluggish, most cranky. Today should have been that day. It doubly should have been that day (wait, triple, because Hi, Monday) as Ben has been gone all evening/for part of the night yet for parent/teacher conferences. PTC nights always mean long days for me because not only am I running herd on the herd all day by myself, but I then have to do supper and bedtime for all three solo, too [to be a single parent? I cannot imagine.]. Because bedtime is so not my thing, these nights sometimes feel extra tedious, especially if I am on a Day Two of Tired.

In today's case, I am grateful for PTC and the rest of the busy week that lies ahead. Because of our hectic schedule this week, I looked in advance for a babysitter who could come today and relieve me for a bit so I could in fact charge through a long day/evening and still have something left for the rest of the week, too. That this foresight happened to help on a Day Two? Well, as Ben says, sometimes it is better to be lucky than good.

Luck also came my way with today's picture perfect spring day weather. Warm sun, gentle breeze, gorgeous smelling trees (although most are a bit overpowering for my pregnant super sense of smell) - the day was begging for a walk. And so, once the sitter arrived and was ready to take on the kids for a bit, I left to go for a walk around the park. Again, no music, no distractions. Just walking and enjoying and even running into a friend on the way home from picking up her own Little from school which was such a lovely bonus - it was all fabulous.

As for the rest of the evening? Well, we spent some time in the yard, ate supper, played a bit more outside (perhaps not the best idea for Lincoln who was super mad at me for then making him come in to get ready for bed), and then did the whole good night thing with very little drama. No one yelled, screamed, or cried. Not even me. ;) Once again, walking saves the day.

Listen

This past weekend found me in Omaha for one more (for now) yoga training, this one my final installment of prenatal training. In a beautifully (and symbolically appropriate) way, this closing module brought me such a sense of peace plus knowledge, which is great because the very first one stirred up a lot shtuff for me, and now that I've done the work and put in the time, energy, and tears that always seem to accompany my yoga trainings, I feel prepared and ecstatic to begin teaching my prenatal class this coming Sunday. It is going to be awesome! What turned out to be less than awesome, however, was my journey home from my Ommmazaing weekend in Ommmmaha.

As all of you in and around Nebraska know, this past weekend brought with it something we haven't seen much of this year, known in local circles as "Winter." Because we have had such little snow and within the last week, days of 60* temps, I don't know that any of us were quite ready for this so-called Winter (nor was it properly predicted which made the whole appearance of 6-8 inches of snow plus wind plus freezing-arse cold even worse). At least, I was not. When I left for Omaha on Friday afternoon, I actually had to come back in the house to get my winter coat, "just in case" and oh my, come Sunday when I was digging out my car in my friend's driveway (bless her heart and another friend's for digging out said driveway so I could leave), was I ever glad to have that coat (and hat, gloves, boots, and Smartwools!).

After going slow and taking twice as long as normal to get across town to the studio for our final of final days (and rewarding myself with Starbucks upon doing so), I attended a great birthing workshop lead by two doulas from Omaha (on Baby 4 and still learning amazing things about birth and labor and natural birth!), had a tasty late/working lunch with all my yoginis, and celebrated our group with a heartfelt closing ceremony that cracked my heart wide open, once again, in all the best ways.

At that point, it was time to finally decide what I would be doing with the rest of my day, which included calling and texting both my hubs and couple friends to see what they thought of travel. Since one of my dearest friends was in Lincoln with her family for the day, Ben thought it would work well if I left Omaha, met up with them as they were leaving Lincoln and we caravanned home. I agreed because, man, I wanted to get home so badly, even though I knew there had been some pretty serious accidents along I-80 throughout the day and that it would be slow going. Part of me hesitated though because I did not want to put myself at risk and was hemming and hawing for a fair chunk of time before I finally took the plunge and headed out into the frozen tundra.

Two indicators that I should have stayed overnight? The first was that I left my rings at my friend's house Sunday morning in my flurry to dig out my car, throw everything in it, and head for the studio. I don't know how I did that (or why I even had them since I normally don't wear them to yoga other than the fact that I wanted to feel connected to Ben and my family while I was away), but I knew I wasn't going to drive the opposite direction from home to get them unless I was staying again. The second was that when I was going back and forth on "Should I stay or should I go now??" I thought about calling my dad and then didn't because I knew he would tell me to stay put and apparently that wasn't what I wanted to hear so I didn't ask. Sorry, Dad; you were so right, even though you didn't say a darn word. So yes, the lesson learned is that when the Universe gives you a sign (leaving your wedding ring and great-grandma's mother's ring) at your friend's house and you want to be as stubborn as a toddler and ignore the good advice you know you'll get from you parents, LISTEN TO THOSE VOICES. Sheesh.

As it was, the first hour of my trip went really well, so I thought I had made a great choice. I made sure I had a full tank of gas and was driving cautiously, and I made it from Omaha to Lincoln much faster (but not actually fast, mind you!) than anticipated. I even manifested Katy Perry coming on the radio to inspire my inner-Durga (that's not going to make much sense to those who were not with me over the weekend at training, sorry) and all was well. Except that my phone started beeping "Low Battery" just as I went around Lincoln and I thought about pulling over to chill somewhere for 20 minutes and charge it, but then decided to just keep going because the roads were clear(ish) and there was still daylight. My friend and her hubs were not ready to leave Lincoln yet, so we chatted briefly on the phone, and decided maybe we'd meet up along the way home, maybe not. All was well. Until it was not.

While getting around Lincoln was no trouble, the roads started to get more snow-packed and slick as I got closer to the Crete exit. Traffic slowed down but kept moving and I thought, OK. This is still OK. After passing the Milford exit and shortly thereafter, the Seward exit, traffic slowed all the way to a stop. I bet I wasn't a 1/4 mile past the Seward exchange at that point but there was clearly no going back since, hi, that's not legal, and cars and trucks were packed in tight in both lanes. That was at 6:00 p.m. And although I did not know it at the time, it would not be until two-and-a-half HOURS later that I would make it the SIX miles down the Interstate to the next possible exit, at which point I felt like the biggest fool for even considering the idea of leaving Omaha yesterday, much less actually trying to do so!

During those two-and-a-half hours, I went through the full range of emotions. At first I was like, well, no big deal. I have plenty of gas and I am warm and I'm not in the ditch. All is well. Thankfully, all of those three things remained constant the entire time I was stuck either not moving or inching along the road. But then I started to panic and freak out a bit because my phone had been beeping low battery for so long and I had no way to charge it, so I was worried that it was going to go out on me and then no one could keep me updated on road conditions or know that I was OK and the whole thing was just panic-inducing, isolating, and kind of scary.

By some not-so-small miracle, though, my phone hung in there for the entire experience. And it allowed me to make multiple calls and send multiple texts which also had me experiencing the full range of emotions (bursting out in tears while taking to my dear friend who, after leaving Lincoln well over an hour after I went by, caught up to the Seward exit and was able to get off I-80 to drive on the highway instead whereas I was still stuck less than four miles in front of her) (getting really upset at my husband for telling me I should get off at Goehner - the next exit - and "find a bar" where I could charge my phone and hang out for a bit before heading on) (laughing out loud with my SiL, whose house, at that point, was my goal destination via the exit past Goehner, about the fact that her brother thought I should hang out at a bar when I couldn't even drink) (to relief when I heard from Ben that he'd found multiple places for me to stay if I did in fact get off at Goehner, including the house of a friend of his mom's who lives, literally, a 1/4 mile off the exit ramp there). Full range, people. Full range. All told, it was NUTS (and don't even ask about what my pregnant bladder thought of the whole debacle).

But yes. Six miles in two-and-a-half hours and I finally, blessedly, thankfully, safely made it off that damn road and to a landing spot for the night where I could plug in my little wonder-phone, let people know I was OK, eat some yummy SuperBowl food, and have a room and comfy bed all to myself. And all courtesy of gracious people whom I had never met before but were beyond happy to help. Thank goodness for good people!

Clearly exhausted from last night's proceedings, I slept in until almost 7:30 this morning and after breakfast and starting/loading the car, braved the end of my host's driveway and got back on the interstate at 8:30 this morning. Two hours after that (which is normally just shy of the time it takes me to get from Hastings all the way to Omaha), I made it home. The roads were clearly not great but traffic was at least moving, so I took my time and was in no-rush whatsoever to get anywhere. Except maybe Starbucks in York. I had already decided I was stopping there because that's what I do, but just outside of York, a truck went by me and found just enough melted junk on the road to cover my windshield in yuck, at which point I realized my driver side windshield-wiper-fluid-dispenser-thing-a-ma-bob was plugged with ice. The seven miles into York from there were less than fun, but I made it safe and sound and got my scrapper out after I parked at Starbucks to fix everything. However, the ice was especially stuck in the tiny little holes, so my scraper didn't quite do the trick and my windshield was still a mess, leaving me to wonder how I was actually going to get home if I couldn't see.

Fortunately I have some mad MacGyver skills and managed to use a Starbucks stir-stick to get it cleaned out so I could in fact make it all the way back to Hastings yet today. Have I said THANK GOODNESS yet in this post? Because I've been thinking it nonstop for the last few hours now that I am safe and sound (and bathed and showered) in my own cozy home.

A girl and her stick. Just another reason for
me to heart Starbucks. 

Of course hindsight is 20/20 and no one could have predicted running into that intense of a traffic jam when nothing about it was being reported at the time I left, and while my sanity and pride wish I had listened to those little voices that said STAY, ultimately it all worked out and in the safest, most pleasant (all things considered) way. And my lesson is totally learned - sometimes being a bada** means just staying the flip put and waiting for better conditions to travel!

Ho, Ho, OH NO!

When we set out on Christmas Eve for our travels to see Ben's family for the holiday, the only potential blip I could foresee on our radar was a possible (and yet major) let-down from Santa because HD had specifically requested Angry Birds Transformers from the Jolly Old Elf and all this mama managed to get for his stocking were two ABT books. Still the right franchise and all, but I wasn't sure that one sticker book and one reader were actually going to win the 5.5 y/o over. Thankfully, the stocking surprises were still met with "Just what I wanted!" and dimples, so all was well and we had a really nice visit with the Welsch family. The children had a blast playing with their cousins and all the new toys yesterday,  so even though LT did not nap well either day we were there or sleep well Christmas Eve night (no, there were no stripy pajamas involved) and yesterday by 3:30 p.m. I was beginning to wonder if Christmas is the longest.day.ever.in.the.history.of.all.the.days, it was a great holiday. Because of all the not-sleeping, however, we decided to come home today instead of tomorrow and were on the road early enough to be home by mid-morning. Until we weren't.

Just after we pulled off I-80 to come south into Hastings, the van decided it no longer wanted to accelerate. Ben was given no indication of anything happening - it just up and lost the ability to change gears. Thankfully we were no longer on the interstate and were able to coast down the hill/ramp to the nearby gas station where we parked, turned it off, and tried again, only to find that while we were safely off the road, we clearly weren't getting back on it anytime soon.

Ben got on the phone to our roadside assistance program (thank goodness for decent insurance!) and I instantly called a friend who I thought would be home and who I knew happened to have enough seats in her own vehicle to come get us, if need be. Thankfully she answered right away and was instantly on top of it, heading out the door to come get me and the kids. Ben ended up waiting (for over an hour and a half) for a tow truck to arrive so he and the van could get a lift to the dealership where we get it serviced in Hastings which is where it will remain until next week because, hi, it is the day after Christmas and no one else is open to even give us any answers much less estimates/repair timelines on how this is all going to resolve itself. Let's hope it is an alternator or some little electrical problem and not the transmission!

Anyway, thanks to Dear Miss L, the kids and I (and all of our luggage and presents - HD's main concern) got home in time to eat lunch and get the overly tired baby-man down for his nap which he is thankfully still taking. MUCH improved over the last two days, so I guess he is glad to be back in his own bed. I am glad to be home, too, especially since it appears that our trip home could have been much scarier/worse or might not have happened at all had this little (please, be little!) van trouble started any earlier. Not that Ben's folks wouldn't have housed us for as long as needed, but after a really busy few days, I think it is good we got the kiddos home so they can unwind and recoup on sleep and just take it easy while Ben and I are both around for the next week. Good thing we have all the new presents to keep us occupied since 1) we are more-or-less housebound - as a whole family, anyway - until who knows when and 2) who knows how expensive this fix will turn out to be! Any chance Santa brings new transmissions to good Mamas and Papas?!

Update: Transmission. If I click my heels together three times, will Santa please fix this for me?

Follow the Sun (again)

For the last week (at least), I have been super excited, waiting for today to arrive. Not only is it Sunday (one of my fave days to teach yoga), it is also the Winter Solstice, which means in yoga world, time to celebrate the arrival of the new season with 108 Sun Salutations. Remember back (when Facebook was still letting people see blog links that I post!) to when I wrote about this in June? Participating in my first 108 with a studio full of yogis was so, so cool. It proved to be a physical challenge but one that was also super rewarding because it made me feel connected not only to my own body but the larger yoga community that exists both in my own town and around the world, too.

The beauty of this individual accomplishment that aligns so perfectly with group energy turned out to be very much the case again for the Winter Solstice, but in an entirely different way. Because this solstice happened to fall on a Sunday, the yoginis of avani decided, naturally, to hold the Winter 108 in place of my normal Sunday Flow, and it was given to me to lead. I was pumped and also a little bit like whoa because I know what a marathon this event can be and that there would be no way I could lead/complete at the same time. Cue and count and do all at the same time? Not for me, my friends! So instead, I figured out a way to count/keep track of my salutations on my own yesterday and after tossing and turning most of the night (is it time? is it time?!), I got up at 5:00 this morning and headed downstairs to complete my own yoga marathon well ahead of leading the one at the studio at 9:00. Here is what my mat looked like when I started:

The dark stones I used by moving one to the other side of the mat each time I completed a sun salute (if you don't know what one entails, read the link above from the Summer 108 - it details all the steps that equal one salutation). When all 10 shifted, I moved a clear stone to the right and then started moving the dark ones back again. I believe my Math Man husband called this a Base 10 system when I showed it to him? You know words are my thing, so that I devised a system that is actually a legitimate math Thing is fun, eh? The eight red stones lined up on the left were for the last eight rounds. At the studio we lead everyone through the first 100 as a group and then give them time to complete the last ones on their own, so I wanted to mark my final eight in a special way, too. And you know what? It totally worked!

It was dark when I started and when I ended (and OMG, apparently we needed to do many more SSs today because it is another gray day in a what has been about 1 hour of sunshine in the last 10 days!), but I had some soft light coming from the Christmas lights on our mantle to keep me going, as well as my beloved music, and my first 108 solo felt amazing. Last summer I could barely do five full salutations with full chaturangas (as opposed to on my knees), but today I did the first 54. How cool is that?! And even once I switched to my knees, I still caught myself sometimes in the middle of a full one before realizing my error, but c'mon - if you're going to make mistakes, this seems like a good route to go. Because it was early and I had the main floor of the house to myself, I took my time and completed in about an hour - just before the first Little came downstairs to find me, which was perfect. 

After the rest of the house awoke, I was able to get cleaned up (because 108 brings not only the sun but also the heat!) and ready to head to the studio. Because my parents were here for early Christmas, Ben also got to come to the event which was so awesome because he's never been able to make it to one of my classes before and this was a pretty special one for him to hit. As for how it all went? Well, a few lessons learned. 

      1) Don't drink coffee prior to leading 108. I know enough to not do this before taking a yoga class now (learned the hard way), but oof. When you are super excited for an event, drinking coffee right before it starts is going to amp you up a wee bit too much. I'm a fast talker anyway, so trying to cue through the caffeine and my own energy level? It was a bit challenging at first! 

     2) Cueing 108 sun salutes is going to make you tongue tied. I chose to give breath and posture cues the whole way through and while I did well for probably 93% of them, the ones I did flub were rather comical (but perhaps, unfortunately, a little distracting for the yogis who joined me this morning). I don't care what you're trying to say - say it that many times in a row and you are going to make mistakes. As a result, each time an error occurred or when I felt my own monkey mind starting to wonder, I hoped right into the flow with my group, completing a dozen or more extra rounds throughout the studio event. While I thought this would be impossible because I'd be so shot from doing my own, it turned out that the extra ones actually felt great and grounding (which was good, because hi - see Lesson #1!). Again - the power of my practice and strength are such great gifts and when I look at how far I've come in a little over a year, I am floored. 

     3) Seeing your husband and friends and fellow teachers and students and local yogis complete 108, especially the last individual rounds, is a potential breeding ground for emotion. I was so honored to be there, much less leading the darn thing, so being witness to the energy, strength, determination, and beauty of all the people who joined me this morning? It got to me a little bit. The opportunity I've been given to teach and lead in a practice that means so much to me? Full as it may make the schedule some weeks, I don't take it for granted ever because I'm too honored and too humbled to be anything but grateful for the role I've been given. 

After everyone finished and enjoyed their savasana, we celebrated and laughed and chatted for a while before everyone went on their way for the rest of their first day of Winter. When I made it back to the house, I hopped on the mat for one more round so Ben could snap some pics. Full disclosure? My arms were so tired, I about dropped on my face in chaturanga, but then I inhaled up into Upward Facing Dog and again felt my heart lift and fill with the joy of this day and this opportunity and this life. Whatever is to come in this new season, I am ready to greet it with warmth in my heart and a smile on my face. Best wishes that you may do the same! 

Added bonus of the day? OMmazing leg warmers hand-knit by the
daughter of one my favorite faces from the studio. I requested these all of two
days ago and not only were they already done and so, so fantastic, they
totally matched my outfit! The auspiciousness of 108 strikes again! 

June Bug

Normally, I don't go a week+ without writing. And normally I don't take an entire week of a new month to log a post on my blog. But - thank God - normally we also don't have five out of seven days in one week where a new family member comes down with the flu, which is what our last Friday-Friday looked like.

If you've been following along with the Facebook photos, you've seen these already, but here's the illustrated tale of How June Kicked the Welschies' Bums:

I started the flu right as I was getting ready for bed last Friday night. Talk about poor timing. After two nights of almost non-existent sleep Wednesday and Thursday, I was soooo tired Friday. But instead of sleeping, I spent the next 5+ hours running to the bathroom. Awful. And it left me zombified all of Saturday and only partially functional Sunday. Did I mention that I started teaching my summer class at CCC on Monday? So in addition to recovering from the flu, I was trying to get ready to jump into full-time teaching mode. Summer classes are awesome (I usually get some really dedicated students and the time frame is short - three weeks), but the time frame is short and therefore very intense (each day = a week in a normal semester, minus the extra time in between classes for turn-around and response). Again, poor timing. Miss Raegan looks super sad in this photo because she was battling a head cold which she shared with me to make my flu recovery extra special. 

Flash forward to Tuesday. In that awesome way that germs do, we had just enough peace between my illness and the rest of the family getting it that I was lulled into thinking we were in the clear. Ha. HA. HA! Bwahahahaha! (that would be the universe laughing at me, by the way). Oh, no. Not clear at all. Rather, Harrison woke up early-mid-morning Tuesday with the icks and spent the next six hours (we saw a real trend with the whole just six-hour thing, thankfully, but wow, what a six hours it could be) miserable. And then he took a nap in the middle of the day which you know never happens unless the kid is Sick. Thank goodness he made such a quick recovery though and never spiked any big fevers; he was able to go back to VBS with his buddies and enjoy the rest of his week. 

Technically, Lincoln didn't even wait 24 hours to start his bout with the tummy bug after Harrison fell victim Tuesday morning. LT woke up from his afternoon nap Tuesday covered in mess and I had to call the doctor's office because I have never had one so little with the flu and had no idea what to do. Also, technically, Lincoln's bout lasted longer but had less frequency than the rest of us, so it continued to be challenging to know quite what to do with him. I stayed home from campus Wednesday morning which was also a bit of a circus, but so it goes with a sick babe. His thankfully came Wednesday afternoon when he woke up clean and dry from his nap and we knew we were in the clear with him. 

 Flash forward again, this time to Thursday. I had a friend come over to visit after the kids went to bed and we were having a lovely time/chat when all of the sudden, about 35 minutes after the kids went upstairs, we could hear this awful sobbing, crying coming from RL upstairs. Ben went to check on her and sure enough, it was her turn to take a turn for the worse. We relocated her to the bean bag in the living room where she and Ben stayed for, you guessed it, the next six hours. Like her mama, Raegan has had the hardest time recovering because her flu messed with her sleep the most. Two days later and she's still dragging a bit. 

Of course that leaves Ben as our final victim of the June Bug but I don't have any pictures of him; he thought I was nuts to keep taking/posting pictures of sick kids all week so I didn't bother him with the camera when he started feeling awful yesterday afternoon. His thankfully came in that his duration/frequency was the least of all of us and I was beyond thankful that he waited until Friday afternoon because then at least I was done teaching for the week. 

So, yes. On top of my status of Working Woman and trying to cram in as much yoga training as possible before teacher training comes in July, it has been what we'll call a "Helluva Week" here. No wonder I haven't been blogging!  

Just Me

Holy C.R.A.P. Today I am enjoying my first day to myself in, um, over five years. That is, my first day without Ben and the kids (and without being pregnant) and all by myself, rolling around town and rambling around the house and yeah. It's just me. And eight whole hours to do whatever I like (plus pumping, of course). Insane!

How did this day of awesome come to be? Well, the big kids are set to come back from the grandparental's today and the great grandparentals wanted to see the baby, so it occurred to me on Tuesday that I could actually make all that happen by letting Lincoln go with Ben while leaving myself at home. Little Dude now takes a bottle just fine, so why not pack some milk and send them on their way? Love my in-laws, yes I do, so it's not that I didn't want to see them and the Greats, but wow - a whole day to myself? Are you kidding me? That never happens (I wasn't kidding when I said five+ years since I have been a person alone w/o a person growing in my tummy for more than an hour or two). So, yes. I asked and Ben agreed and then this morning he left with Mr. Lincoln and will be home later with all three. I do the day in/day out with the munchkins all the time, so I know it's not easy, and I give him mad props for agreeing to this road trip adventure, especially on his first day off from school for the long weekend. In a way, though, this is a good test run for this summer as Ben has also agreed to send me off to Omaha for a month so I can get my yogi on to learn/stretch/grow, repeat, repeat, repeat. One day to wrangle the kids (while traveling) will be good practice for him!

So what, exactly, am I doing with my time? Well, besides enjoying a coffee (hello, caffeine, how I have missed you!) and writing, I went to yoga (new goal pose: wheel. Holy C.R.A.P. some more - tried it for the first time this morning and not entirely sure my back wants to bend that way, but patience and practice and I'll get there [and then I'll post a pic!]) and next I plan to take a nice long epsom salt bath. And then I'm going to read. And that's it. No cleaning. No laundry. Just a book and the sunshine and yes. Yes! Yes! Yes!

Don't get me wrong. I love my kiddos more than anything. They are the reason I do all the things. But to know myself and get some time in my own space and in my own head? I'm calling it the best early birthday present ever. Man, I love March! And yes, I have the best husband. I know this and I think he's awesome. Clearly he likes me, too. ;)

Sanity Saver

While I haven't given a full-on sleep update lately, you may have picked up on the fact that we've been a tired house again lately (always?). Or that I am a tired mama again lately (definitely always on this one). To be honest, I haven't given a full sleep status because 1) I don't mean to use this blog to complain all the time, 2) I've been too exhausted to get around to it, and 3) writing about it would be admitting just how bad it has been. And it's not been good.

A few weeks ago, we gave up the beloved Dream Feed because it wasn't working. That was a good choice. However, it now means that when I go to bed at night, I never know if I'm going to get an hour or two or four or maybe just the whole darn night before Lincoln is up to nurse. While there have been a few nights when he's gone the distance, there has been very, very little consistency in terms of feeding time on the others. If you've ever had sleep issues, you might know how this uncertainty can make it hard for me to go to sleep at night, even when I'm exhausted.

Then you throw in the complicating factors of a week of sick kids plus a random Sunday night when HD decided to get up to use the bathroom at 3 a.m. and 4 a.m. (of which the first woke me up and I was still up for the second one because I couldn't go back to sleep) and the result is me. One extremely tired mama. As in, a can't think/talk straight, barely keeping my sh*t together but still can't fall asleep at night mess. But then I'm responsible for the health and happiness and all the other things for three little people all day long, so I've had to keep going which is what I've managed to do by the grace of yoga, chocolate, God, and Orange is the New Black on Netflix (not kidding...those are my coping mechanisms).

But Wednesday night was a recent record low. It took me over three hours to go to sleep that night, only to be woken by Lincoln an hour-ish later, and then up for the day for real another four-ish hours after that. It sucked. So while I opted out of other activities Thursday morning, I did bundle the kids up (hello, subzero temps!) to make the dreaded trek to Walmart solo with all three of them just so I could buy a bottle warmer.

While Lincoln is still too little to skip night feedings altogether (especially since he's not gaining weight right now), he is old/big enough to be doing just one night-time feeding. No one ever said, though, that I had to be the one feeding him. At the suggestion of a few wise mamas, I got the bottle warmer so I could pump before bed and then send the milk and warmer upstairs with Ben so he could handle the middle-of-the-night feeding. & that way, no one - not the baby who wants milk or the preschooler who needs to pee - could bother me. To his credit, my husband wasn't bothered by this idea (perhaps because he realized, at this point, it was crucial to my survival?).

Last night was our first attempt. I got settled in our guest room downstairs and managed to fall asleep sometime around 10:30. I'm guessing because there is no clock in that room which is a godsend because, again, another trigger for my sleep problems is seeing the damn clock and then calculating how much little sleep I'll be getting from that exact moment.

So. I slept. It was lovely. I didn't have to shove a pillow on top of my head (another coping mechanism that has seriously ruined my neck and shoulders, not to mention ruined my sense of trust when it is quiet). I didn't have to get up to nurse or use the bathroom or anything. I just slept. And when Ben came in at 5:57 with a missing mama LT, I could hardly believe it. What a relief to get some uninterrupted sleep. Apparently there was a 2 a.m. bottle that took a little bit longer than a typical nursing session to get in Lincoln, but it worked and he went back to sleep and all was well. Especially since I got to sleep right through it. I have a feeling he'll get more used to the bottle and it will go quicker in the future and there will definitely be a future because this mama needs to recover a bit. I've got to get my trust back with sleep and that is not going to happen, excuse the pun, overnight.

If you can, send me some sleepy vibes here in the next few nights/weeks. Just maybe don't wish me good sleep in person any time soon because I'm still so off that those well wishes just add more pressure to my poor, tired brain. See - I told you it's been bad!

Christmas Book Countdown

Although I still shake my head a bit over all the things I pin and don't actually do, I am still pleased whenever I pull off anything I find on Pinterest. With the help of some early Christmas gifts from a few family members, we will soon be pulling off one of my biggest Pinterest projects yet - a countdown of books leading up to Christmas.

I saw the idea last year and started collecting titles then, but this year I decided I really wanted to make it happen. We don't have an advent calendar of any kind and don't do the whole Elf on the Shelf thing, but Harrison seems old enough this year to be able to get into a countdown and naturally I love the whole book focus. And again, thanks to our own little family of elves, we were able to get them all ordered and delivered and ready to go before Dec. 1. Here is what they look like wrapped and ready to go:

Our plan is to take this stack of wrapped books and stick it under the tree before Sunday. Then we'll have the kids pick a new "present" each day to open. More likely, HD & RL will take turns every other day doing the selecting, but you get the gist. This way they will have something to open and read each day leading up to Christmas and each opened book will hang out for the month in our living room to be read as many times as they like. To be honest, I hadn't read all of these titles before buying/asking for them, so I have no idea what the kids (or I) will think of some of them. Ben was reading some to me tonight as I wrapped them and wow, some are too wordy or too heavy for a 4, 2,  and less-than-1, but they will grow with our kids. Right?! Really, though, I hope to do this from now until forever and I really hope it is something our little family can look forward to year after year (and yes, I really do plan to keep this up even when they are eye rolling teenagers because that's how much I love my littles!).

In case you're interested in doing something similar, I broke down our list of 25 for you and am including pictures so you can see the pretty covers. I'm also including a little commentary here and there, because you know, I'm wordy like that! Perhaps I'll also do a follow up post in January to let you all know how this little tradition went during its inaugural year!

The Nutcracker and the Mouse King by E.T.A. Hoffmann *So many words! Will have to read selectively for a few years.
Making a Friend by Marc Rosenthal
Thomas' Christmas Delivery by Rev. W. Awdry *Thomas has been so dear to us during HD's early years, we couldn't help ourselves!
Richard Scarry's Best Christmas Book Ever! *HD LOVES Busy Town!
The Night Before Christmas by Clement C. Moore *Classic!

Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol (picture book version) *first page talks about death; might have to read selectively for a few years on this one!
Olivia Helps with Christmas by Ian Falconer
Christmas in the Big Woods by Laura Ingalls Wilder *LIW is one of my childhood heros; love this!
The Legend of the Candy Cane by Lori Walburg
The Legend of St. Nicholas by Dandi Daley Mackall

Stick Man by Julia Donaldson *Oh, the rhyming cuteness. Loved this when Ben read it to me as I wrapped.
Bear Stays Up for Christmas by Karma Wilson
The True Night Before Christmas by Timothy Penland
Home for Christmas by Jan Brett
The Spirit of Christmas by Nancy Tillman

Jingle Bells by Kathleen N. Daly *A Little Golden Book given to us by Ben's mom from when he was little (possibly before??)!
The Christmas Story by Jane Werner *Another LGB from Grandma Deb.
The Berenstain Bears Meet Santa Bear by Stan & Jan Berenstain *My childhood copy!
Santa is Coming to Nebraska by Steve Smallman *Saw this at the office store and couldn't help myself since Hastings is actually named on one of the pages.
The Christmas Magic by Lauren Thompson *Don't judge a book by its cover, blah blah blah - I love the cover of this book and can't wait to read it with the kiddos!

Christmas Eve Good Night by Doug Cushman
Margret and H. A. Rey's Merry Christmas, Curious George 
How the Grinch Stole Christmas by Dr. Seuss *From my parent's house, possibly my mom's childhood copy?
The Polar Express by Chris Van Allsburg *Classic!
The Twelve Days of Christmas by Jan Brett *Love Jan Brett's illustrations (and her original books, too).

Socktober

I happen to have a few favorites in this world, and SoulPancake is totally one of them. It started with the book version a few years back and now I have to say that the website is full of gems. Upworthy features a lot of their stuff and for good reason. The content is awesome. So it didn't surprise me when I saw a SoulPancake/Kid President video the other day that was fantastic:

The concept is called Socktober and it is both brilliant and kind. Instead of wasting all of our time on the Internet to crush the candy or follow people like Miley Cyrus on the Twitter (again, my old school phone keeps me from doing either), SP and KP would like to get 1 million folks to donate socks to the homeless in the month of October (hence Socktober).

I love when the Interwebs can be used for good. I've taken part in such small acts before and have been very honored to be part of a couple Love Flash Mobs over at Momastery. It is amazing what people can do when they get together with folks they have never and will never meet to help those both near and far.

Naturally, I wanted to get right on board with Socktober. But I didn't want it be just about me. I wanted my whole family involved. Ben and I believe in giving to various groups and people in as many ways as possible and clearly that is something we want to instill in our kids, too. So why not start young?

Today, while hanging out during the littlest Littles' naps, Harrison and I had the following conversation:

Me: Hey, buddy. Did you know that not everyone has socks?
HD: No, Mama. Everyone has socks.
Me: Noooo, there are some people who don't have enough or even any socks, especially in the winter. What would you say about getting some socks to donate to our local shelter?
HD: What's a shelter?
Me: A place where people can go to get help when they need it. And socks can be help. What if we got socks for someone your age to give?
HD: Who is 4 who doesn't have socks? What's his name? Can you tell me, Mama?

Well, I could not, but I was happy to know at that point that Harrison was very much willing and ready to be part of Socktober. When Baby Girl and Baby Boy got up, we headed to the store and SOCKS were the very first item on the agenda. On the way there, Harrison told me he wanted to hold my hand while we went to find the socks and that is exactly what we did. But we didn't want to do just one package. We wanted to get a package to represent each member of our own little family just in case there is a man or a woman or a child (age 4, 2, and 0-6 months) in Hastings who needs some extra warmth and comfort this fall and winter. Here's what we got:

This week we'll take our little bag over to CrossRoads; it's the local shelter here and it has been far too long since we've dropped anything off at their door. I am grateful that we are able to help in even this small way and happy to know that good can come from surfing the web. I hope that you can find a way to make an impact in your own community after reading this. Whether you choose to rock Socktober or something of your own creation, please remember that even the smallest gesture can make a world of difference to someone in need.

How Big Your Brave Is

All summer long, Harrison had a job to do: pick the color of my toe nail polish whenever I decided to change it. Seeing as I was uber-pregnant for the first half of summer, there weren't many times when his services were needed because, let's face it, trying to reach my toes was too dang hard to do! After Lincoln arrived, however, Harrison got to have a lot more say as I changed them from blue to pink to red to blue again.

A few weeks ago, when I painted my toes blue, I warned Ben that if Harrison ever asked to have his nails painted, I would do it (it was a really fabulous bright blue, just the color I knew HD would LOVE, which is what made me anticipate his asking). My straight-laced, Nebraska farm boy, math teacher husband just shrugged and said, "Whatever. Half the boys at the high school wear nail polish" and that was that. None of this "that's just for girls" business that is such nonsense or "That's so gay" which is beyond nonsense and is just poor use of the English language, not to mention, flat out wrong (For the record, my husband would never say either of those because he is wiser and kinder than that, but you know, some people might have those reactions and to them I would say, "Whatever. It's nail polish. The kid is just exploring the world and wants to be like his lovely Mama. Deal with it.").

Much to my surprise, Harrison did not ask to have his nails painted blue when he saw mine the next day, but that was fine. I didn't want it to be about me; it was about him, if he wanted it.

Flash forward to Sunday night when I decided I needed to get rid of the blue and took my polish off as Ben was getting the big kids ready for bed. Harrison saw what I was doing and wanted to pick out my color. "Black!" he said excitedly when I asked what I should do next, and since I didn't have actual black, I picked the next best thing - sparkly charcoal gray left over from last year's Halloween costume (Christina Aguilera from The Voice, in case you missed the totally awesome photos on Facebook). HD approved and, this time, asked if he could have his toes done too.

Since it was already bedtime, I didn't want to take too long and told him I would do his big nail which I gave one quick coat. The only thing Ben rolled his eyes about, when he saw us, was my choice of timing. Right before bed? So he's going to be all concerned about his toe and not sleeping? But it dried quickly enough and was not a problem. Of course, Raegan was watching all this and started hollering, "Me too! My toe. Me too!" but there was no time for that.

Except for at home, Harrison's toes have been covered since then, so there's been no one to notice or comment on this little beauty experiment. Tomorrow, at preschool, that will change as they have swimming lessons. Which leads me to his other big toe and those of his sister.

Tonight, at dinner, as we talked about the upcoming day, Harrison said that he was scared about swimming. He missed out last time because of his head injury which he actually considered to be a bonus of the stitches. He's just never been very fond of the lessons, but he always does them (even though we tell him he can sit out if he really wants), which I think is very brave. So when he mentioned being scared, I asked him if he had anything on his toe, perhaps, that he could see tomorrow to remind him that Mama and Daddy love him and think he is the bravest and best boy in the world. He got a big grin on his face and I heard his shoe hit the floor. Then he brought his foot up to the seat of his chair and moved it so his toes just peeked out and I could see the polish. Then the smart little bugger, who has been asking the last two days if we could change his color (I told him it stays on for longer than a day or two!) said, "Maybe we could paint my other toe a different color so I could be really brave!"

And there you have it. Outsmarted by a four-year-old, who indeed got to pick out another color for his other big toe. And his sister got in on the action, too, having both of her big toe nails painted the same Brave Blue (which is what I just thought to call it but will totally be talking about at breakfast tomorrow). Again, Ben was on board, but there was some eye rolling when I asked him to help me blow on the toes to help them dry. I have a head cold, people. I don't have enough oompf for doing full pedicures on my own!

Obviously I have no idea if this will help at tomorrow's swimming lessons or not, but I figure it is worth a shot. And I'll also be curious to hear if anyone says anything to Harrison about his toes that he wants to share with me. He doesn't always give me many details about school, so I may never know, but of course I hope that this will not bring about any teasing for him. Because, quite frankly, I want him to know that it doesn't matter what color his toe nails are. He is awesome and brave and we will always love him and be here to remind him of that (or paint his nails if it helps him remember it when he is away from us.)

P.S. If you're wondering about the title of this post, check out this awesome song called "Brave" from Sara Bareilles:

A Change in Policy

In the last few weeks, some friends have shared with me some amazing happenings on the interwebs related to breast feeding and mamahood  including a photography endeavor called The 4th Trimester Bodies Project, the websites/Facebooks groups of The Leaky Boob and The Badass Breastfeeder, and lastly, this outstanding commercial from Luvs:

Seriously. If you have any interest in nursing, it will be worth your time to check out these resources. And if you're still not convinced that breast feeding deserves a place within our society, watch this and see if she doesn't change your mind. 

Now by no means do I mean do go all Mommy Wars here and get up on some pedestal about how you should feed your baby. Just feed your baby. That's all I ask. I don't care if there is a fox or a box or socks involved - you do what is best for you and your bambino(s). 

For me, breast feeding has always been the preferred option. I suppose some of my parenting preferences, like natural birth and nursing, came from the stories I heard from my own mom about how my brother and I were raised. Not that either of those things were pressed on me by her or anyone else; it's just what I decided I would aim for prior to Harrison's birth, knowing full well that I may not get my wish. Fortunately, though, I have now been able to have three natural births and have been able to nurse all three of my babies. For this, I consider myself and my family very blessed. 

Now that's not to say that breast feeding has been an easy road for us. In fact, I don't know if I'll ever understand why nursing is so hard, but holy moly cow, it is. In some ways, my struggles with each of my kiddos has been the same, mainly thanks to my battles each time with Thrush. Trying to learn how to nurse while teaching a newborn to eat all while enduring stinging nipples for weeks or months on end? That is not easy. Neither is dealing with all the other little oddities and problems like poor latches due to tiny mouths (I know all babies have small mouths, but my children seems to have especially miniature versions, I swear) or plugged ducts or engorgement or pumping before every feeding or cracked nipples. But I have been there/done all that and more. Of course, it was because I wanted to, or chose to at least. 

Actually, if I hadn't been so committed to nursing and had such amazing support from my hubby, I probably would have said forget it. Newborns are stressful enough without all the boob drama, so I can see why many mamas opt for formula. Actually, we had to opt for formula too, with Raegan, but not until she was 13 months old. At that point I was too sick from being preggers with LT to keep up with all the bodily demands of her plus him plus myself, and the little stinker wouldn't drink cow's milk (still won't, except for from a cereal bowl), so we did an older infant formula for six months to get her through the transition of baby to table food. See, I am not kidding when I say you do what you need to do (for each of your littles because each one is bound to be different). 

However, what I've realized about my commitment to breast feeding after looking at all of the above mentioned resources is that I made another, rather odd now that I think about it, choice. I don't have a single picture of me breastfeeding any of my babies. I suppose I thought I was being modest by not taking any, but when I look at the images posted to those various pages mentioned above, part of me is sad not to have visual proof of all that we went through and just how far we made it as the HD & Mama and RL & Mama teams. Because the pictures I see on those sites of those mamas and their babies are beautiful. Beautiful for the bonds and connections evident between parent and child and beautiful for the sacrifice I know it takes to make those moments happen. 

Had I thought to take pictures of myself nursing Harrison or Raegan, I could have done so just for us. It's not like I would have had to post the pictures to Facebook albums or even put them in the baby books. But having them in some form, even just on our computer, would be so helpful now that I am nursing their little brother. That way, Harrison could see for himself that yes, I did feed him with milk from my tummy (the expression he used when he watched Raegan nurse as a baby) and Raegan could know that she too got lots of "Milk! Milk! Milk!" from Mama, because these days they both ask in their own ways, quite often, if I nursed them, too. So when I think back about what a big part of their babyhoods nursing was and about how nursing has shaped me as a mama, I am shocked and a little heartbroken that I don't have those images to share and reassure them with now. 

Even though I like to be an equal opportunity mama, I think I'll make a change this time. I think I'll make sure that we get some snapshots of Lincoln nursing so that we can all remember what this was like. And so my kids can see, even when they are way past baby stages, that this is a great and healthy, perfectly normal and natural way to feed babies. Because hopefully, someday, it will be my daughter's turn to make this decision or my sons' turns to support their wives and I want them to know, to see, what we chose for them. Not to force their hands but just to say this is what we did for you. And it was beautiful. 

Roomies

Oy. So, Here We Go happened yesterday and there we went - the land of a shared sibling room. And let's just start by saying that the first night of Harrison and Raegan as roommates was, um, interesting.

To begin, bedtime took forever. As in, an hour longer than it normally does, forever. Poor Ben. He was laying on the floor of their room, waiting for them to fall asleep for over an hour and by them, I totally mean Raegan. Harrison was a rock star. After the books and final potty break normal routine, they went back into their room to give kisses and sing our goodnight song and then HD went to sleep while RL did her best to keep herself and her brother awake. I guess Harrison did shimmy out of his covers once and then, when Raegan finally did sit down in her crib he called out, "Where'd ya go, Raegs?" but after a stern warning from Dad, he got quiet and managed to both tune her out and go to sleep. See? Rock star!

Raegan, on the other hand, was still awake when Ben finally gave up and left the room. I could hear her calling, "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy" as he came down the stairs which is apparently what she said over and over while he was in there, too. Well, that and, "Brudder! Brudder! Brudder!" Poor girl. She is not used to having people in with her while she goes to sleep. When we sleep trained a year ago, we established a routine that involved saying goodnight and then walking out so she could put herself to sleep which has served us well for the last 12 months. In that time, however, we learned that what worked for "Brudder" was staying on the floor of his room until he was asleep. Normally it doesn't take more than 10-15 minutes and we figured that was worth it to save him (and us) from his popping out of bed and his room a gazillion times each night.

So tonight's approach was to go the Harrison route and stay in the room until they were both out. As mentioned, he handled it pretty well and was asleep, Ben thought, in probably 20 minutes or so after the final "Goodnight"s which is pretty typical, and downright awesome considering the circumstances. But Raegan was just too tempted to talk and walk around her crib while she had a willing audience which is why Ben made the call to leave after HD had been asleep for half an hour or so. And while we heard her for a little bit after that, it was never wall shaking loud and didn't last more than another 5-10 minutes. Again, this is not her norm, so we can't really blame her for wanting to interact with the people in the room, but talk about lesson learned: wait until HD falls asleep, then leave! I suppose she could better in time, and hopefully will, but no point in staying in there longer if it is only going to keep her up longer too.

The actual night was far less chaotic, at least until 3:45 when we heard Lincoln crying in the other room. Ben went to try first, by rewrapping LT and walking him a bit, but it was pretty obvious that Little Dude wanted more than a quick snuggle. So I got up at 4:00 to nurse him and while he was back down in his crib 20 minutes later, I had a heck of a time falling back asleep before morning came. I did manage between 5:30 and 6 to have a very strange dream about moving into a new house (NO! NO MORE CHAOS!!!), but then Harrison came in at 6:05 to use the bathroom. Raegan, of course, started crying when this happened, but they made it another 20 minutes or so being calm off and on during after that while we waited to do Good Mornings. And really, since the 6-6:30ish time frame is a pretty normal wake up time for us, we were very pleased with the big kids and how they did on their first night/morning together.

Now if I can just figure out how to get myself back to sleep, even when I know that I have just a little time left before the whole house shimmies for the day, we'll all be doing much, much better!

Here We Go...

Somewhere, deep in my soul, I must thrive on chaos. Or at the very least, some part of me must seek it out, as it seems that I keep finding ways to throw more spinning plates in the air. Our latest crazy? A fence project and a bedroom shift, all in one weekend!

The fence project idea blossomed a few weeks ago when my mom visited and saw, first hand, how challenging it can be to keep my super active kiddos in our backyard. We love our backyard but the garage is way too appealing to them and they can disappear so quickly around the corner of the house, so while she and I were chatting one morning, we decided a fence would be extremely helpful. And somehow, my dear husband did not veto the idea when I suggested it to him that night, because you've got to be kidding me if you think I was going to the one building it! I'm the planner, not so much the doer, of these kind of ventures (but I was the one to find the sweet sale on materials from Menard's, so "yay, me!" for that!).

So really, this fence chaos didn't come out of nowhere and ultimately it is going to mean for much less chaos in my daily life at home with the kids. I can look past one super crazy weekend and see that pretty clearly. And the great news is, the vinyl portion is all done (minus the gate which is on hold due to backordered hinges, boo!). My dad and Ben got everything dug and set and it looks fantastic. Of course, Harrison now keeps talking about playing Angry Birds over the fence, but he'll learn pretty quickly when he starts chucking toys over it that Mama is not going to play that game. Keep it in the yard or find something else to do, sweet child of mine! The chain link portion still needs to be set and stretched (or whatever technical terms you use to describe putting up a chain link fence), but Ben is confident that that will come pretty quickly. So no totally enclosed yard yet, but we're getting there!

The extra crazy idea came last night as Ben and I were talking before putting Lincoln down for the night. We decided (after I had some very, very rough nights of (no) sleep this week) that it is time to get the baby out of our room. The only way to do that, as you may recall, is to get Harrison and Raegan in a shared room. And thus we had our extra burst of crazy this morning when we started combining their rooms into one right after we all got up this morning. HD was pumped, playing Project Overseer ("How're ya doin', Mama?"), and RL ran around carrying books from one space to the next while Ben moved the crib and I got all of the little pieces put in place.

30 minutes later and the deed was done. I think it looks sweet and cozy in the room, but appearances are not really the goal here. We are, of course, looking for everyone to get as much sleep as possible and that may be tricky here for a bit. I'm sure bedtime will take a little longer and the mornings might start a little earlier should there be a bathroom break or crying spell or whatnot for the new roommates. But I've got to hold on to the idea that I can handle the early mornings so long as I'm getting good, solid sleep (without a freaking pillow on my head) the whole night leading up to that point. And seeing as Lincoln has been going from 9:30 or 10:00 until 5:00 or 6:00 (sometimes even 6:30!) without nursing, we really could be in business here, since I won't hear him until I need to hear him.

While this isn't a terribly insightful blog post, I'm sharing it with you so you know the background and the history of our latest (crazy) change (because I can pretty well guarantee that there will be shenanigans and stories to share in the coming weeks from all of this room shuffling). However, much like the fence, I think the long term benefits are going to outweigh the short term chaos. Or, at least I really hope that is the case!

Believe/Be

I pin a lot of crap on Pinterest. It's true. I love the website and all the pretty things. I want to pin all the pretty things and then learn all the pretty things, make all the pretty things (even though I haven't touched a sewing machine in years) and eat all. the. pretty. things. Such eye/mind candy Pinterest is! But I'm a realist and Pinterest just isn't real. I mean, again, it is pretty and there are lots of pretty ideas floating around on it, but for Pete's sake, there is no way I am ever going to learn, make, or eat all of the pretties I pin. Absolutely won't happen.

And even though Pinterest does its best to guilt me with its food and workout routines and Best Parent Ever techniques, I don't buy it. I know there is no such thing as a perfect person or parent (there might be a perfect pastry, but the chances of me making it these days are slim - who has the time?!). And I won't let a website fool me into feeling bad about myself because I can't actually do or make or be all the things I pin. I am good with that. And because I am good with that, I get to do a celebratory dance any time I actually do accomplish something I found on Pinterest (which means I've only done this dance a few handfuls of times, but hey, that is realistic when I consider the three real-life pretties I must attend to day in and day out).

So, Pinterest rant aside, I am so stoked that one of my happy dances got to be in honor of this:

I actually managed (with many helpers) to make a "Believe there is good in the world/Be the good" sign! And the way it all unfolded was pretty cool. 

First there were the barn boards that my in-laws so kindly brought for me. Their old barn fell victim to a tornado before I ever met the Welsch family, but they've kept some of its pieces, using them for various projects, and fortunately some were still available for my little art scheme. My FIL cut them for me and Ben trimmed the edges and this is where we started: 

From there I enlisted the help of my mom who is far more artistic than I am but who still didn't want to just free-hand the lettering. Instead we searched Word for a good font, played with the sizes of various words and came up with this ("GOOD" is actually the biggest word on the board):

My mama is also a smart lady and it was her idea to use carbon paper (did you know such a thing still exists? Well, thankfully it does at Eakes Office Plus in Hastings, anyway!) to trace the letters on the boards. This was great until we realized how rough/weathered some of our boards were. Let's just say we had an awful time seeing the word "World"!

From there it was paint time. Buttercup on the "Be the Good" and cream on everything else. Even though I can't wear it, I love me some good yellow!

 Between nursing sessions, I helped paint. :)

Three boards in:

A few days later, it was time for our lovely work to go up on the wall. My dear math teacher hubby devised a pretty awesome way of making this happen. 1x4 boards with eye hooks and some heavy duty wire to hang from screws in the wall and we were in business.

Brass screws attached the boards to the boards (huh?) so that our creation will be fairly easy to relocate should we ever choose to relocate.

 Almost there!

Getting the sign up on the wall was actually a little scary (to me). The steps in our front entryway are STEEP and Ben had to be up on an extension ladder to get the screws in that would align the sign with our front door since there is no actual floor right in front of where it now sits.

 See? STEEP!

With my help, we got it balanced and on the screws and, viola - sign!

Totally worth it, eh? The final product is amazing (and pretty!) and it just so happens that when I sit in the living room's rocking chair, I am directly diagonal from this great message. This wasn't why I chose this location, but it is a happy coincidence. I actually chose this spot in our house because everything else is covered in pictures and it was the only place that could house a 4'x4' sign. That and I wanted it to be a saying that our guests, family, and friends would see whenever they left our house...something to take with them to believe and be in a world/society that tends to sensationalize and exploit the bad.

It wasn't until my dad made the comment "Words to live by" on a Facebook picture of the work in progress that I truly realized my other desire to have this in our house. I really do want my family to embody these words. We don't have a list of family rules posted anywhere in our home but now that we have this, we may not need one. When life boils down its most simple and most pure, what more is there than believing in and being good to others? Yes, there will always be the bad (moments, days, acts, people, etc.). But when we focus our attention on the other, the good, we build kind hearts and caring homes. And if we can carry that good, that love, with us, then we have the ability to help others do the same. By no means do I think one little pretty from Pinterest is going to change the world, but if it helps me and mine remember what really matters in life, than I'd say it was well worth the pin, the planning, and the finished product.