Honey,  As I scramble around trying to find the perfect last minute Father’s Day gift for you, my father, my step-father, and your dad, I realized that for the last three years, your sons haven’t spent Father’s Day with their Dad. I have been with mine- all of mine,  but they haven’t been with theirs. The past three years of our life have been filled with struggle and separation, not due to marriage issues, but due to the military and the fact that sometimes, Dad’s have to be gone. When you are as young as the boys, sometimes that’s hard to understand, but now at age 5, our oldest is starting to figure it out. He often asks where you are or what you are doing. He questions why his dad has to be gone, and I am sure, that when Father’s Day finally arrives, we will have some issues to sort through with them. We’ve already sent the Father’s Day cards, but that was weeks ago to ensure that they arrived on time. But on Sunday, when they see kids with their Dad at the park or see my Dads g

Today was a day like any other, probably just like yours: It started off as I shuffled around the house trying to scrounge up some food for my ever picky pre-schoolers to eat before I had my cup of coffee (I never drank the one I made), and I try to mix the baby food before the baby really started to scream. I grab a slice of banana bread before I rush to the seat I'll be stuck in for a half an hour as I feed the baby and remind the boys to use proper manners. We discuss our day, I hand over napkins so that the boys can wipe up their own spills, and I wrestle a very persistent five month old as she grabs her banana and rice cereal from the spoon I'm feeding her from. But then, my day becomes different from yours: The phone rings. The boys know the familiar tune of the FaceTime ring. They jump up as it rings and rings. "Mooooommmm" they say as they give me a glare because I cannot answer the phone with banana on my hands. Finally, my hands are damp, but clean-ish, I

Recently I had this conversation: Me: Excuse me, I signed my kids up for story time, but I'm not sure when the session ends... Librarian: It will end May 13th. Do you want me to write that down? Me: No, I've got it. I may not remember the day but I'll remember that it's a teen and I'll go from there. Librarian: Really? Because you look like you might forget. Me: I've got it, I'll get the right week, thank you. Librarian: Really? If ever there was a person who might forget, it would be you. You have your hands full. In that moment I literally had my hands full, I was carrying seven books (they each get to pick their age), two DVDs (one for each), a baby, and a wallet. But my kids were behaving, my kids were wonderful in fact. And that day was wonderful: I got to take a shower. Hell, I even shaved my legs, put on make up, actually did my hair and put on some cute new clothes. I ran errands, made appointments for the baby, picked up my kids fr

In the midst of the chaos of moving and having a baby, I asked each set of grandparents if they could help with something special. I wanted each of them to have some special activity to do with the boys while we were home. I wanted this because I'd get a few hours to myself, but I also wanted them to have sometime with their grand kids in an area that is important to them and my children. I wanted the grandparents to fully experience my boys' talent, their pride in accomplishing something and their enjoyment from their hobbies. I asked Eric's parents if they would search around for a hockey/skating program for the boys. Hank and Theo had been in skating lessons for about 12 weeks before we moved and they were quite impressive and quickly advancing. Hockey had become quite the activity in our house. With Eric being a college hockey player with a few bragging rights of his own, of course it brought joy to him when his boys loved skating and playing around on the ice. But t

I have to admit it, I just couldn't get into this birthday celebration. Most of the time I'm excited about celebrating the birth of my children, it's not just a day for them to get presents and eat as much frosting as possible, but it's a day for me to reflect on their life, my experiences as their mother, and to remember all of the joy I had the moment they entered the world. This year was different though, Theo ages quickly, it feels like this 4T wearing, physically huge, very smart, very ambitious child was already three. It has always been a challenge parenting him because he's just older and bigger than his age in every way. But now, as I look at his behavior at the dinner table the night before his birthday, I think, "well, he's only two." But in reality, tomorrow morning he won't be any "older", his behaviors won't change for a few more months, and we'll actually be in the three-nager stage instead of knocking on it's

I wanted to put it out there because I know I'm not the only one... My jeans don't fit. Not even my "fat pants". I know, there's an article circling the internet right now that is all about how "you just had a baby" and how you should give yourself a brake, but I don't want to feel like that. I want my life back. I want normalcy, I want out of those maternity pants, I want my almost perfect daughter to stop puking all over everything, and I want to have an outing with friends, or heck, I'd settle for a good, timely texting conversation or a Facetime with friends. I want to eat a meal that I can cook instead of grabbing something on the go in between juggling three kids and nursing. I'd love to go on a hike or to the gym. I'd love to run, and I hate running. I'd love to have pants that fit, really, that's what I want the most.   I hate pulling up on the nylon that should be covering a pregnant belly but instead is covering a ni