Congratulations to Erin! Check your email for the details, lady.

Happy holidays, everyone!

Dear Owen,

I was supposed to write you this letter back in September, as in just over a month you will actually be three and a half. You’ve already grown so much since September, but it’s important to me that I document this time.

Back when I intended to write this, you had just started preschool. I was nervous about your first day. You had a history of needing two or three times to get used to new situations. I had seen it firsthand at small things like story hour or toddler gym, and bigger things like swim lessons — so I prepared myself for your tears at the first drop off.

To my surprise, you marched in confidently and full of excitement, kissed us goodbye, waved, and went on your way. No tears at all. Except for mine, of course. I had to hightail it out of there without talking to anyone, because I couldn’t stop my emotions over my baby going to school from running down my cheeks. I had a good cry the whole way home, nervously waited those short three hours, and practically ran back to get you. When we arrived, you were sitting on the rug, and as soon as you saw me your face burst into a big grin. “Mommy!!!”, you shouted as you ran to me. My heart, Owen. Oh, my heart.

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School has been amazing for you and it’s been a real joy to see you blossom into this awesome boy. You’re smart and curious and want to know all the things there are to know. You will talk anyone’s ear off and are sweet and compassionate. It’s so interesting to hear the things you come up with now; the questions you are dying to know the answers to. I can see the wheels turning in your head constantly and it’s exciting to see what you come up with.

As your brother gets bigger, the two of you have gone from happy playmates to complete and total buddies. You are together always. Of course, this is not without issues, as we have been trying to work through some major sharing issues, learning to keep our hands to ourselves and how you are really scaring him when you roar in his face. Please stop that. Overall, though, watching my two little puppies wrestling on the rug (and it IS wrestling now. It’s full WWF Smackdown some days. This has got to be a nature thing, because I sometimes watch in bewilderment and think, where did they learn that?!) makes my heart swell. Yesterday on the way to school, you told me you just LOVED Ryan’s face. “Do you know why I love his face, Mommy?” “Why, Owen?” “Because it looks like my face. Because we’re brothers. And I love my brother.”

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I know you’re still little, but often when I look at you now, I can see the boy you’re going to become. In your jeans and button down shirts, the last remnants of your baby cheeks becoming a memory, you seem so big. Looking at Ryan, I swear that was just you, only moments ago. These little moments really do fly by.

I love you through and through, bugaboo. I love who you are and who you are becoming. You are so great!

Love,

Mommy

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It’s that time of year again! I’m so happy to once again be partnering with Tiny Prints for the holidays. Wait till you see all the holiday cards and photo gifts they have to offer this year! New design styles for 2013 include Contemporary, Classic, Vintage, Full bleed photos, All That Glitters, Bold Expressions, Simply Chic, Woodland Wonder & The New Tradition.

Glitter is in this season, but don’t worry about making a mess. These cards only look like they have glitter on them. And check out the new trim options for 2013! Square, rounded, bracket, ticket & scallop trims allow you to make your card uniquely you.

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The color palate, the simple wording. This one makes me swoon.TP2

Got more than one photo you want to share? No worries! The tri-fold card selection is top notch.TP3

Looking for something a little less traditional? Why not try one that doubles as a sweet ornament? TP4

Something else new this year? Clear cards!

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And these are just a teeny tiny glimpse at what you’ll find over at Tiny Prints this year. Also, they offer matching address labels and envelope liners so truly, all your needs are met in one stop.

Here’s my favorite part: Tiny Prints wants to give one of you $50 towards your holiday card creation! (Plus free shipping! U.S. winners only.) To enter is simple. Visit their selection of cards and comment here with your favorite. One winner will be picked at random and announced Monday. Hurry! You can only enter until Sunday, November 17th.

Want to see what others are choosing this year? Follow @ResourcefulMom on Twitter and use the hashtag #TinyPrintsCheer. Happy holidays!

Disclaimer: The good folks at Tiny Prints hooked me up with my holiday card needs this year. So happy they will for one of you too!

- Michael and I celebrated our five year wedding anniversary last month. We celebrated by returning to our beloved New Hampshire for two whole nights SANS CHILDREN. Do you know what that means??

We NAPPED.

I also ate some open-faced BLT thing that was made from bacon, fried tomatoes, and guacamole on garlic bread. That was pretty amazing. But not as amazing as the napping.

- About a month ago, Ryan weaned. The other day Owen was looking at me with a perplexed look. I asked him what was up and he said, “if Ryan doesn’t drink mommy milk anymore, why do you still have those big things on you?”

I explained that all women have breasts, even if there’s no baby drinking milk. He started laughing and asked for some applesauce. Ooooook. Kids are weird.

- Ryan is finally starting to say more than “bah!” for everything. His recent favorite is “stinky” while waving his hand in front of his nose when I change his diaper. Boys and toilet humor. It starts young.

- Daylight Savings is kicking my butt. The first morning Owen woke up at the old 6, and Ryan woke up at the new 8:30. I don’t get it either. Since then, Owen has slowly been creeping to the new 6, emphasis on slowly. Today was 5:45. Child, no. He just comes in our room and announces he’s awake. Well, good for you. I am NOT. All should even out just in time to spring forward.

- I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around having a kid who can (kind of) write their name. Wasn’t Owen just born?

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So….

Hi!

I’ve even gone a while. I have no real explanation except good old blog-itis. I want to write, only I don’t. Life had been happening, only I haven’t been documenting it. Same old story. It doesn’t help that any time I even think about siting down at the computer, one of the kids pushes the other one down (Owen), or scales the furniture (Ryan), or chases the dog (both of them).

I think I just need a blog restart every now and then. As much as I think that sometimes I’m done for good, I just can’t quit this space. I’m glad I can take the break and come back home.

If you’re still out there reading, stay tuned. I’ll be back tomorrow (Really!)

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(Cutest little super heroes ever on Halloween.)

This little birdie took his first small flight from the nest today.

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I cried.

This summer has been a real test of self-esteem for me. I don’t know what my problem is, but I never got around to buying a new bathing suit, so I’ve continued to wear the two-piece I’ve had for a few years. If we’re being completely honest, it’s not a good look. The top is stretched out from my boobs going from their 27-year old glory, to ginormous first time nursers, to slightly less ginormous second pregnancy/nursing vessels, to something that only vaguely resembles what I remember them to be.

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You know, when I was 22, my breasts were like right about there. Nice and perky. Gravity has taken them (sigh) to there. It’s like 22…28…22…28.”

It’s also not a tankini or a one piece, so my stomach is all out there. Now, look. For having two kids I guess it looks pretty decent. But I’m so NOT comfortable with it. When I’m standing in front of the mirror I’m all, alright. Not bad, lady. Looking good. And then one day I was on my hands and knees playing on the floor with the kids and I happened to notice my stomach looked like a weirdly deflated donut. My eyes pretty much fell out of my head. Where did THAT come from? I decided to only stand up for the rest of my life.

I’ve spent most of the summer either wearing a tank top over my suit, or strategically placing a child in front of me until I can get in the water. The most ridiculous part is that in truth, no one is looking at me or judging me except myself. At least, I hope not. But yet…

After Owen was born I dropped all the weight in just four months. By the time he was a year I had lost so much (too much), that I was in a size I hadn’t seen since I was 16. And the thing of it is, I didn’t have to really do anything do get there. It just happened. My postpartum body wasn’t the same, but it was pretty close. The second time around was TOTALLY DIFFERENT. After Ryan, the weight loss crawled at such a slow pace that I realized I wasn’t going to be so fortunate again. This time I would have to work at it. I joined a gym, started running and after nine months got back down to my happy weight. Then summer came and I put my membership on hold because I figured I would be outdoors and could keep up the exercise that way.

SNORT.

I chase the kids around, yeah. But exercise? Real exercise? I haven’t done that in three months. Which is why, despite my weight being where I want it to be, my abs have just surrendered into Mom Tummy.

The short-term solution would have been to just buy a new suit. And while I should probably still do that, I will know the donut is lurking beneath that thin layer of lyrca-spandex. And so I decided enough was enough. For real. No more pseudo-exercising. No amount of wishing it away, or sucking it in, or hiding it beneath clothes is going to firm up my stomach. I’m going to have to work at it.

And that suuuuccckkks.

Yesterday I started The 30 Day Shred (again. Again, again. I’ve done this a handful of times but have never actually completed it. I skipped level 1 this time and plan on doing levels 2 and 3 for a little longer.), and will reinstate my gym membership this fall. I am so determined to get myself to a place where I feel confident again. My body will never be the same as it was, I know this. But I’m pretty sure I can get it to a place I can be proud of. A body I can feel comfortable in again. A body that allows me to eat a donut instead of carry one around with me. Wish me all the luck!

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Exercising with children. Not always easy!

Dear Ryan,

I’m sitting down to write this two weeks after your birthday. Such is the plight of the second child, I’m afraid. I’ve been composing it in my head for much longer, though. One year…just like that.

The first things people comment on when they meet you is your hair, and your happiness. Both are pretty remarkable.

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Your hair is starting to get a little too long in the back and is threatening to become a mullet if I don’t do something about it soon, but the thought of cutting it makes me sad. I’m going to wait it out a little longer until it becomes a vision hazard.

And your happiness? Oh, Ryan. You are just the happiest. You are always smiling. Always! You flirt and laugh and give giant, wet, open-mouth kisses. You have pride in your accomplishments and give yourself a round of applause when you do something well, all while shrieking “Yay!!” Sometimes I find you laughing while flipping through a book or crashing a car because, life! It’s a blast!

Your nickname around here is “Trouble”, and it suits you. You are into everything, so very scrappy, and are already proving to be my wild child. One of your favorite “scare Mama” tricks is to push your giant stuffed lion next to Owen’s closet, climb on top of it and pull on the net of his basketball hoop. Can you at least put a helmet on if you’re going to do that? Over the past two weeks you went from taking your first step, to standing from the floor on your own, to basically walking around the house like you own the place. I forgot how startling it can be to have a small person round the corner doing his best Frankenstein impression when you’re not expecting it. I think Kodiak forgot, too, because you’ve startled him a few times.

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I’m hoping once you are fully comfortable with walking that your sleep will go back to normal. And by normal, I mean you used to just sleep all the time. Naps were done in minutes without a fight, bedtime was easy and essentially through the night. As you’ve been working on this skill (and working on adding to your four teeth, I suspect) though, you’ve been up a few times at night, wanting to nurse constantly and have been royally fighting your afternoon nap. I would really, really like to go back to you sleeping. Really. Trust me, we are all happier when everyone sleeps. I will say that you always tell me when you’re ready to sleep. When you’re tired you cry “nigh, nigh, nigh!” until we put you down for night night. Never stop that, ok? It’s adorable.

You are a talker, mister. You are constantly babbling to yourself or anyone who will listen. Your consistent words include: mama, dada, wawa (Owen), dog, book, ball, bear, dat (that), yay, bah (cup), nuh (nurse), night night, hi, uh oh, rum rum (which isn’t really a word, but the sound you make when you drive toy cars around), and believe it or not, dinosaur. It comes out as “dye-dye-dye”, but you only say it when you’re playing with and showing me toy dinosaurs so I know that’s what you mean. What a funny thing to add to your vocabulary. You smack your lips together when you want to eat and always use the signs for more, all done, milk, and have created your own for lovey, which is you touching your mouth with your open hand just like you press your lovey to your face. (SO CUTE.)

Speaking of your lovey, you are totally attached to it. It’s a white lovey with a sheep head that was gifted to your brother when he was a baby. Owen never took any interest in it, but you clutch it to you while you sleep and like to carry it around when you first wake up. It’s slowly going from white to…not so white, despite washing it. I guess it’s just well-loved.

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Owen continues to be your ultimate buddy and it’s clear you already idolize him. If he does it, you need to do it too, and that means imitating him in every possible way. You need to drink from big boy cups, and play with big boy toys, and eat big boy food (you did purees for maybe a minute around six months. Then it was “give me what he’s got”, basically.) (Oh yeah, you eat everything. Every. Thing. And if there isn’t food on your tray mere seconds after I put you in the high chair you shriek!) He loves you to infinity and beyond, even though he’s become very territorial about his toys. I don’t think he was quite prepared for all that sharing. The joy in both of your eyes when you play or spontaneously hug, or the peals of laughter from both of you in the back seat makes me know we’re all doing something right, though.

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See what happened, Ry Ry? I finally got to writing about you and now I can’t stop. There is just so much to tell.

I will stop, though. For today. Happy first (and two weeks) birthday, my not-so-little Little. Thank you for the joy you bring me constantly.

I love you through and through.

Love,

Mama

 

There’s a family member who likes to tell me my children don’t look like me. This might be true for Ryan, but there is no question with Owen. Owen has my eyes.

He’s also just like me. He’s cautious and sensitive. He can cry at the drop of a hat and he’s not one to jump into new situations easily.

Last week he started swim lessons. Knowing how to swim isn’t negotiable, especially living where we do. We talked it up the week before and told him how much he would learn; how fun it would be. We picked out his bathing suit and special towel and packed them all up ready to go. The night before his first lesson, as we lay in bed getting ready for the night, he turned to me and whispered, I’m a little nervous.

The first class started out exactly as I would have expected it to. Faced with the realization that he was expected to climb into the pool — the great unknown — and climb in without me, Owen burst into tears. He looked up at me with a mix of panic and sadness, waiting for me to rescue him from the instructor slowly guiding him to the platform. I knew this would happen, and I knew I had to let him go. Logically, I understood he had to get over the fear to start benefiting from the class, but my heart hurt.

By the middle of the lesson, he was doing great. Cautious and reserved, yes, but trying. And doing! I was so proud of him. The whole way home we talked about the class and how much fun it would be to go the rest of the week. And it was fun. He did great all week long and the growth both in skill and confidence was abundantly clear. We signed him up for the following week.

Yesterday was the start of week two, and the first day with an new instructor. This teacher is a whole different ball game, in a good way. Owen was immediately forced out of his new comfort and challenged to try more. This morning he hopped in the pool (alone!) and gave me a thumbs up and a big smile. Moments later the instructor dunked him under and he emerged in tears. Here we go again, I thought to myself. As the class move forward, I could tell he was feeling stressed, despite the teacher’s encouragement and wonderful soothing. The other three children in the class were clearly more comfortable — kicking around alone on their floaty dumbbells while Owen clung to his and the instructor’s hand at the same time. At one point, he scanned the room until he found me and when we locked eyes, I felt everything.

I know exactly what he was feeling right then because he is just like me. I can still remember the same fear and the same feeling of being unable to hold back tears, even when you desperately want to. Sometimes my emotions still get the best of me over little things, even when I don’t want my own tears to fall.

I did the only thing I could do, and gave him my own thumbs up and big smile. You’re doing it, buddy. You’re doing great.

The instructor lived up to her praise and at one point during a clear panicky moment, she made him laugh and kissed his forehead. Even from across the pool I could see him relax and, unsurprisingly, my eyes welled up. By the end of the lesson he was all smiles again, and as I dried him off I thanked her profusely. She modestly brushed it off, but I don’t think she understood how much I was thanking her for.

As I buckled him into the car seat, Owen looked up at me and said, “Mommy, I was scared at my swim lesson today, but I did a good job!”

I’ve never seen myself reflected quite as clearly as I did in that moment, looking into my child’s eyes. Eyes that look just like mine.

“You did an amazing job, Owen. I’m so very proud of you.”

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Thanks to everyone who entered the Courtney Bock Designs giveaway! The winner is…

…Kaci Johanna! Congratulations!

If you didn’t win, don’t worry. Courtney is offering a pretty awesome consolation prize.

From now until midnight on Wednesday, take 30% off your entire order at Courtney Bock Designs with the coupon code TLMOMENTS30. Amazing!

Happy shopping!

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