In our house we only shoot pucks and balls. We stick to family friendly shows and movies that don't have weapons,  we have no weapons in our house unless you count vigerously waving fishing poles and hockey sticks, and we have avoided the mayhem that is the equivalent of the Princess Pink,  until now. Once Henrik started school his world expanded, which we knew it would, we just weren't sure how it would play out as he was around kids who wore super hero shirts and played "bad guys" on the playground. Occasionally, through the years, Henrik has been drawn to the bold reds, blues and greens that the Super Heroes wear and has asked, "which character is on that kid's shirt". We've always answered him honestly and have somehow managed to stay away from purchasing clothing with superheroes on them. It's not that I don't want those shirts or toys, heck, I love the angst of a good super hero film and would love to sport a retro version of a comi...

There are multiple times through the course of parenthood when you realize that your child is growing up and is no longer that sweet smelling baby you could hold for hours on end. For me, I've had a lot of those moments, but over a two month period I've been shocked at how sentimental I've gotten while watching my boys grow. It could be because my husband and I have been going back and forth on the "another baby" discussion for months and the thought of no more pregnancy, deliveries or even alien poop could be in my near future. Or it could be because I'm in awe of how much my boys know and what they pick up and discover on their own. It's also a possibility that I'm just a crazy mother and wants to be a part of my kids lives for as long as possible because I know it's not that far away that they won't want to be snuggling or climbing on top of me every second. A few weeks ago, our oldest son had his first real play date. For hours before the...

I have a confession to make. It's a bit embarrassing, I'll explain why in a bit, but I'm afraid that if I don't share this information that that knot in my stomach won't go away. Here it is: I want a job. I KNOW! I hear some of you gasping, some of you saying, "NO! You're a fantastic mother why would you want to work if you can afford to stay home?"I hear some of you saying, "Finally! She realized that she had so much more potential than being a stay-at-home mom". And that's where this inner struggle begins... I think you're both right.  I LOVE, and wouldn't trade anything in the world for the hours I get to wipe butts, pick up vomit, play cars for the 1,000th time and do more laundry than seems possible. I wouldn't trade the fights with a three year old for blaming ME for HIM pooping in HIS pants, or the fight with a 20 month old who just can't seem to figure out why hitting is bad. I wouldn't trade the hou...

It's been a rough week at my house, we've had two visits for the ER, we've battled croup, had steroids, visited the doctor three times, and are now fighting a nasty virus that has left my house smelling like a fraternity bathroom. I've dealt with anti-vomit drugs that of course aren't working and diarrhea diapers that always happen to explode... on me.  I vowed to the Social Media Gods that when I became a parent,  I would never post pictures of poop exploded diapers or vomit on walls (and I still haven't) but, this week especially, I've used social media as an outlet as a call for support or ideas on what to do. I've become "the parent" that I so often see mocked or ousted for "over sharing". People who are around kids all day get it, even some friends who aren't parents have offered support (and that's how I know they are true friends) or suggestions, or are even laughing with me when the nurse suggested that I give my ...

If you haven't heard the background story, you'll want to read up , because I'm about to admit it, in Boldface Times Font... Eric was right.  That evening when Eric got home from work, he made a few comments that indicated that he'd read the blog before coming home. I wasn't sure where our post-kid-bedtime conversation would take us: would he spin around in circles doing a happy dance? Would he sing-songy say, "You were wrooonnnnngggg" over and over again? Or would he just say, "So... I read your blog today." As we sat down to watch The Big Bang Theory, drink wine and have a cheese and chocolate snack, he said, "So, why did you say 'no' to Henrik at the gym today?" I still didn't have an answer, I admitted that I didn't, but I knew that there was a pretty darn good chance that I was trying to protect him. We kind of left it at that when I told him that I still needed to do some soul searching to find out if I ...

Well, it happened. Eric and I disagreed on something in terms of parenting, some things were said, I cried, and after a few hours I realized Eric was right. Kind of.  This morning Henrik asked his dad if they could have a Daddy Date to see Planes and get a new toy car. Eric of course said he'd love to take Henrik to the movies but instead of getting a car, how about they get a bike helmet. When I walked downstairs, Eric told me about their conversation (in that way that you talk so you can include the child in an adult conversation) and then said, "And after we get the helmet, I'll take you to the park to ride your bike on a mountain"(really he meant on a rock-ish mountain, not up Pike's Peak). Henrik quickly agreed that it would be the coolest thing ever and before the conversation could finish, I got huge eyes and said, "I don't think that's a good idea" in a low, quieter voice. Eric said something, I replied, "He's three, remember?...

Thornado is a beast in every sense. He can walk into a freshly cleaned room and within a nano second he has destroyed it. I'm not talking about a pillow out of place, I'm talking, pillowS off the couches, the couch cushions are on the floor, every blanket is taken out and thrown across the room, toys and balls and crumbs and whatever else you can think of, he's done in that small amount of time. Thornado is the opposite of his brother in every way. As a 19 month old, Hank-o-Saurus was calm, studied everything, and reserved, cautious if you will. Thornado is the exact opposite. He's an aggressive (not in a bad way all the time) physical, tactile learner who has to be knee deep in something to learn it. He's in the 99th percentile for height and in the 90th percentile for weight and he's learned that there is only a three pound difference between him and his brother and thus has discovered the arm bar, the choke hold and how to tackle and check. I swear we are NOT...