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...

This is my favorite time of year. I love the colors, the cooler weather, the goodness of people, the songs, the smells... I guess I like all of it. Recently I was asked what my favorite part of Christmas was and I didn't have to think long before I said, "I love the excitement. Today, we went to the tree lighting ceremony on base. Before they lit the tree, Santa arrived on a carriage and pulled up right next to us. All of the kids rushed him in excitement. Initially I held my kids back so the man could get to the tree, but I saw how excited Theo was. He was waving and kept saying, 'Hi Santa' over and over. I gave in and walked with him closer to Santa, thinking that Santa would wave and we'd just stand off to the side as we greeted him. We got closer and Theo was so excited, he waved and shouted 'HI SANTA' louder and louder hoping to get a response. He didn't. Then he left my side and started following Santa as he walked towards the tree repeating him...

I wanted to wait until I could move my body better before the boys came to visit, so they didn't come to the hospital until the end of the day, around 6 PM. I was excited to see them. I couldn't wait to show them the sister that they'd been asking for for a year before I was even pregnant. I wanted them to meet their Sweetie Precious that they feel in love with before Eric and I knew we were having a daughter. I wanted to show them that our family was complete and better with her in it because they were here to help love her.  When we last saw them, Henrik said, "I'm happy that Sweetie picked today to have her birthday," and I hoped he shared the same excitement when he actually saw her. When they came in the room, they looked around, I was sitting in my bed, I smiled, "Hi guys!!!!" I said excitedly. "Where's Sweetie?" They asked. There was no "Hi mom".  They actually walked right past her, she was in her hospital crib. I ...

Today is the day I'd been waiting for. Not just because my body didn't want to be 9 months pregnant anymore, but because it was the day that my family would be complete. It was the day my husband and I would welcome a daughter to our lives and all that goes with it. We were pros at boys at this point, but the thought of raising a daughter has us excited, confused, terrified and madly in love. Here is the birth story of our daughter. Saturday, November 8, 2014- 37 weeks, 5 days.  The boys and I anxiously awaited Eric's arrival after having him gone for three weeks. I kept telling Sweetie that she had to stay in there until her dad was home. She listened, but reminded me with strong contractions that she was getting ready. My body was preparing in every way, I kept track of what was going on, but I wasn't counting or calculating contractions. I kept telling her not for five more hours. Not until 8 PM. She listened. Sunday, November 9, 2014- 37 weeks, 6 days.  I knew...

In case you haven’t caught up, we’re having a baby! A little girl actually! The boys are beyond excited and cannot wait for her to arrive. I on the other hand have been having reservations ever since they declared that we were having a sister. The Super Big Brothers announce that they are getting a sister!  At about the 15 week mark I thought I was crazy for wanting another baby. But one night while I was putting the boys to sleep I felt her kicking a lot. I thought that maybe they could feel it too. As we lay in the boys’ bed together I took Henrik’s hand and placed it on my belly where the baby was moving around. Sure enough, the baby kicked and Henrik sat up from his almost asleep position. “I felt her kick me! She kicked my thumb!” It was at that moment that I knew that this baby would be welcomed by the big brothers and honestly had my heart warm up and let out a huge sigh of relief.   The night before the 20 week ultrasound I took the boys to dinner so I c...

There comes a day when you realize that your baby is no longer a baby, but a full-blown kid. It hits us differently at different times and at different milestones. It could be the time they use the potty without announcing that they have to pee. It could be the night they sleep in their big kid bed by themselves. It could be the first day of school, not having to wipe a butt, doing a chore with out being asked etc. Whatever it was for you, I am sure it hit you hard. First it was a shock, and then you were proud. Then you were sad, and then you were sentimental. Then I’m sure you boasted to your child how proud you were and told all your friends about it on Facebook. I’ve been there. But recently, I’ve noticed something that I’m not proud of that my four year old has started doing. Instead, I’m terribly sad that we’ve reached this point in his life. My oldest doesn’t cry anymore. OK. That’s not totally true. He cries when he gets hurt, like bloody hurt, but that’s it. I don...