Train potty

We had a fun filled & busy Easter Weekend that kicked off with egg dyeing at my in-laws on Good Friday.
Egg Dyeing concentration.
Cute bunny cupcakes my mother in law made with the girls:

Saturday morning was the Eggstravaganza at our church. It started at 10am. I finished sewing the girls bunny shirts at 10:01. (And never sewed the eye buttons on them. Oh well.)
Gotta love being a procrastinator.

2 Funny Bunnies.

Clearly, there is NO Bunny Phobia anymore. *Sigh*.

Keeping busy at the Eggstravaganza.

Back home on Saturday evening & picking the carrots from our garden so that we can leave them for the Easter Bunny.

These carrots started out as seeds last summer but we kept them growing for the reindeer at Christmas & now the Easter Bunny.

Sunday morning before church, the Easter Bunny seems to have left a trail....

{Last year, the Bunny left these tracks & the girls loved that he left them again this year}

The Bunny's trail continued in the house (but with bunny droppings)

The trail (of marshmallows) led them to their Easter Baskets.

I do the same thing for baskets each year...a couple of bathing suits, swimsuit cover up, flip flops & books) The only candy they get in their basket is the best Easter candy ever: Reeses Peanut Butter Eggs.

This year, Kate got 2 books and Claire got 1 book and a mini pillow pet that she has been begging for. Think she was excited?

Then it was time for the indoor Egg Hunt.

The girls would find eggs and give them to each other?!?! Who does that? It was so cute (and Claire started it) We'll see how long that lasts!

Love the colors!

Sorting the eggs by color. Be still my heart.

All ready for church with their curled hair.

2 peas in a pod:

My brown eyed girl:

After church, it was off to Mimi & Jimmy's for another set of Easter Baskets.

Then we headed to our family friends house for our annual Easter celebration.
I left my camera in the car, so I don't have any pictures.
It was such a great day & so relaxing at their house (the girls played with their youngest daughter the whole time!)
It was an Easter weekend filled with good food, great people and a heart thankful for what Jesus has done for us!

Complaints and whining

Everywhere.

Disgruntleness. Anger. Offense Taken.

Everywhere!

And I'm not talking about raising toddlers - I'm talking about adults.

Adults who are sucked into the "grievance industry" as my husband calls it.

It doesn't matter how benign or small or ridiculous the issue, people will rally around a cause and waste their emotion getting worked up in the grievance industry. Fires of ill-content spread through social media, inciting anger that benefits nothing. In my opinion, there are many worthwhile causes to engage your time and emotion, such as world hunger, addiction recovery, and ending human trafficking. Compared to those heartbreaking causes, the following exhibits seem trite and superficial.

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Exhibit A:

Apparently pockets on pants are sexist. Did you know that? Do the past years of your life suddenly make sense knowing pockets are a slap in the face to women by powerful men in fashion? Guys can fit their keys, wallet, and phone in a pocket, but "a woman . . . has to either carry those items in her hand, or bring a whole purse with her—a definitive, silent sign that she is a woman." How is looking like a woman a bad thing? Besides, every girl I know carries more than just a wallet, keys, and phone! Lipstick, a brush, extra makeup, a hair tie, gum - not to mention the mom essentials of diapers and wipes. Small pant pockets should be the least of a girl's concern, and blaming the fashion industry for their apparent sexism that keeps women in shackles seems an overreach. To complain about designers focusing on how clothing drapes the body, rather than on function, is like blaming cake for having calories. Instead of raving for #pocketequality, buy some different pants. Or a sewing machine to make your own pants. Or just happily carry a purse. Just get over the illusion that the world is out to secretly destroy your happiness by denying you huge pockets.

Exhibit B:

Victoria's Secret came out with a new bra with no padding. Now people are huffing that they are "establishing a cultural beauty standard that is deeply exclusionary." Supposedly not everybody looks great in that bra type. But why should every body wear the same bra? Aren't a variety of options a good thing? Just because someone's body size or curve measurements mean they can wear a non-padded bra does not mean your body type is less desirable. Stop being angry, and just wear the bra that you feel good wearing. A bra is supposed to be under your clothes anyways, so why is this mainstream news? Please put this exaggerated outrage under wraps too.

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This is how the the grievance industry grows. Somewhere, someone will find something to be upset about, and social media helps them fuel the fire. I'm sure I could continue pointing out examples of ridiculous and unnecessary outrage, but this blog is meant to help people find joy in life, and I don't want to feel frustrated by society's awkward love of being offended any more today.
So, I'll leave you with my advice: To find joy in life, let go of ridiculous outrage. Leave the grievance society, and spend your energy forming a grateful and service oriented heart. Count your blessings, not your grievances. Show caring actions to the people around you. Stop complaining on Twitter and Tumblr, and start helping organizations improve people's lives (find a place to volunteer at JustServe.org.) You and the world will be better off.

Our second guest blogger is Kate from Elefantitas Alegres and I was especially excited to read her post---she did not disappoint. Kate has a way with words that inspires me to write with a touch of humor plus intellect and I love her outlook on their current situation. Enjoy!



Hello! My name is Kate, and I am a 30 year old lady-lawyer-turned-temporary-SAHM.  My husband Evan and I married in 2009, welcomed our daughter Leighton in February 2012, and are excitedly awaiting the birth of our son, slated to arrive around April Fools' Day.  We live in Dallas, TX but are currently entrenched in Year 6 of a master plan I like to call Drag Our Butts Back to (my hometown of) Austin.  I (sporadically) blog at Elefantitas Alegres and (somewhat obsessively) Instagram (is that a verb yet?) under the username cheesefiend.

I'll start off by saying I was thrilled when Julia asked me to be a part of this series - thrilled but a bit apprehensive!  As I'll explain, taking a break from my career is something I never planned for myself, and I admit I struggle more than I'd like with this stage of my life. It's something I've always wanted to write about, but never could quite figure out how to go about it without sounding unhappy or ungrateful (neither of which I am!).  ANYHOODLE, many thanks to Julia for providing this platform and the following prompts with which to organize all this word vomit that's been swirling around in my head for two years! 

(My apologies in advance for apparently having ALL THE WORDS in response to this question!) 

As I touched on briefly above, I never ever thought I'd end up a stay-at-home mom!  I'll go even further and say I didn't even know if I really wanted children until I was in my mid-20s (apparently I told Evan about this uncertainty on our first date, and he almost didn't ask me for a second one... good thing those margaritas made him throw caution to the wind at the end of the evening!).  Although I was definitely "girly" growing up, baby dolls, playing "house," and babysitting were never big interests of mine.  I liked kids fine, but when I daydreamed about my adult life, the role of "mother" was never featured heavily.  Falling in love with Evan made me want children - little chunks of both of us mixed up into a tiny human being all of a sudden seemed like a really good idea!  

Backing up a bit, I attended college at Wake Forest University in North Carolina where I double majored in Spanish Literature and Sociology.  During my Junior year, my parents asked me what I would do after graduation, and I replied that I thought perhaps I'd apply to the Peace Corps (for no reason other than I'd just spent Fall semester living in Sevilla, Spain and naively figured digging ditches in Bolivia might provide another opportunity for carefree travel).  In more words, they wisely said "nice try, guess again"... So I applied to law school.  Because, why the hell not?  Baylor University in Waco, TX was no South America, but it did provide three of the most intellectually stimulating and challenging years of my life (I loved, loved law school).  Bonus Points: Evan and I met (in the law library) at the end of my first quarter. He was a year ahead of me, he was really cute, and he had great outlines.  We were engaged after a year and a half of dating, and, since he was already practicing in Dallas, I took a job at a boutique construction litigation firm there upon graduation. This first "real" job more than paid the bills and also nicely funded a fancy shoe habit.  Those are the absolute best things I can say about it; the rest of the experience was pretty abysmal.  When the firm downsized due to cash flow during my second year of practice, I was happy to go.

After 3 months of adventures in unemployment, I landed somewhat of a dream job at a wonderful nonprofit - a position that fit me so much better than law firm life.  For two years, I was the sole immigration attorney for an large organization that helped victims of domestic violence.  I filed victim-based petitions to the federal government on behalf of our clients and (as cheesy as it sounds) was able to make a real difference in their lives (I also got to speak Spanish every day! 3 cheers for actually using that fine arts degrees!).  Handing over green cards and employment authorization cards and citizenship papers to women who only ever wanted to legitimately belong in this country apart from their abusive spouses and partners is an honor I will always cherish.  

Another wonderful thing about this position was the hours... The pay was laughable, but I basically wasn't allowed to work more than 40 hours a week.  Totally optimal for having kids, yes?  Definitely... except for the fact that the organization was located one county over.  Depending on traffic and which office I was visiting (I had one main office, but also routinely visited two separate shelters plus another counseling office), my commute was anywhere from 1.5 to 3 hours each day.  8 hours at the office would have been totally doable for me as a working mom... but 11?  When my husband works an average of 60-80 hours per week?  Hmmmmmm.

When I became pregnant with Leighton, I made the hard decision to leave my nonprofit position.  Had the organization been located in Dallas, I wouldn't have given a second thought about returning to work after her birth... but logistically, it just wasn't going to be a good fit for our family given the heinous commute and the time demands of Evan's practice.  I dove into unexpected SAHM-dom with the expectation that I'd likely find something local, maybe part-time, when I felt ready to do so. I told myself - and everyone else who would listen - that I felt really lucky we had the resources for me to take a break.  That was (is!) definitely a true statement, but a huge part of me also wished I'd had a job to which I could have easily returned after a few months of maternity leave.  The thought of job-hunting and interviewing with an infant was completely overwhelming, and, after some casual conversations with my nonprofit boss about returning part-time 4 months postpartum led to a dead end (the grant that funded the immigration program ended up not being renewed... ie: there was no job to return to - super sad for me, but even more so for my clients), I basically tabled the idea indefinitely.

If I'm honest with myself, I spent Leighton's first year of life feeling generally overwhelmed.... overwhelmed with this new, earth-shattering love for my daughter; overwhelmed with conflicting feelings of never wanting to leave her vs. wanting very much a role apart from motherhood; overwhelmed with the fact that, despite considering myself a pretty non-traditional person, I'd been thrust into a very traditional role; overwhelmed with guilt that I wasn't appreciating the time home with my little goober enough when I knew plenty of moms would love to stay-at-home but couldn't for whatever reason.

(Okay, I promise not to say "overwhelmed" again.)

I finally hit my stride right around Leighton's first birthday.  I'd managed to make some great new mama friends - almost all who were in a similar situation to my own (well-educated, career-oriented, but for various reasons, at home temporarily).  We had somewhat of a dependable weekly schedule.  I started to participate in a few career development type activities (fewer than I'd like, and, admittedly, most were Continuing Legal Education seminars, but I wore spit-up free suit jackets to them so they count).  And, perhaps most tellingly, after 12 months of shitty, shitty naps and night-time feedings, Leighton started sleeping through the night and taking one great nap a day (in fact, let's just blame all my first year neuroses on sleep deprivation -- that makes me sound a lot more sane!).  I started to get some big ideas about putting my "lawyer hat" back on.  And then...

... Surprise!  I got pregnant!

Conceiving Leighton was not the easiest task for us (I always hesitate to use the word "infertility," because, compared to many of my friends, our journey to pregnancy was easy... but there were definitely hiccups and roadblocks in our journey), and we assumed #2 would present the same challenges... NOPE.  I always thought my kids would be about 3 years apart, but the universe had different plans, and we will welcome our son 25 months after Leighton's entry into the world. 

While I am thrilled to be pregnant (and without being poked with needles or drinking disgusting Chinese tea or refilling prescriptions!), the timing really threw me in the beginning.  Initially, I was (sorry, I'm going to say it one more time) overwhelmed at the thought of starting all over with another newborn, right as I was starting to feel like myself again.  The SAHM "label" started to feel permanent -- and weighty.  Let's just say I had some self-indulgent, ungrateful moments, and leave it at that.  I'm not proud of those moments, but I think they ended up being productive and necessary for my current head-space.   Which is... what, exactly?

Happy, most importantly.  Satisfied, for the most part - as much as I can be.  As unconcerned as I've ever been (in my adult life) with the labels we're forced to give ourselves at cocktail parties.  Confident that, when the time is right for our family, I'll be able to jump back into the workforce (I'd be lying if I said I didn't still worry about my "relevance" to the marketplace after such an extended break, but it is what it is, and, with hard work, people do it successfully all the time).  Scared a little bit shitless about tackling the "terrible twos" in conjunction with the newborn stage, but oh-so-delighted to meet our new addition and feel the love grow exponentially.

I think it's a pretty good place to be. 

The obvious "best" is getting to hang out with the coolest little person I've ever known all day. I admit, this aspect of SAHMothering has gotten infinitely better since Leighton started walking and talking.  Yep, I loved those newborn snuggles and chubby crawler belly laughs, but I am a much better Toddler Mom than Baby Mom.  I love waking up to the sound of her voice talking to all her buddies in her crib, and she delights me daily with what she knows and the funny things she says.  I love that she can tell me, for the most part, what she wants and that she now actually appreciates all our activities and outings.  Even the tantrums are rather hysterical (although I'm sure they'll become less so in the coming months and years).  And while I realize probably 90% of the milestones she's reached and concepts she's learned are attributed to her simply being her, it is really cool to take the of the credit for at least some of the remaining 10% just by virtue of being her #1 caregiver. 

This pales in comparison to numero uno above, but I know there is absolutely no way I would have been able to breastfeed for 19 months (something I'm super proud of) had I gone back to work.  I am a terrible pumper, and moms who work and pump - for any amount of time - are seriously my heroes.  Champagne cocktails for all of y'all out there!

The biggest challenge for me being at home all day (which should be readily apparent from my verbosity above) has been just not feeling quite like myself without an employer to report to or a real purpose outside taking care of my family. I had so much insecurity for such a long time about staying-at-home.  Which I basically just had to get the hell over with the help of time, perspective, and big girl underpants. 

I'd say my other big challenge was/is making good use of my time.  I am most productive when I have a set schedule and am busy; I've always worked really well under a time crunch.  And now I have...a whole lotta unscheduled time if I don't make a conscious effort to fill my days.  Don't get me wrong -- there is plenty that needs to be done, and I'm often wishing for more hours in the day, but time management while "being my own boss" was not something I had a lot of practice with before February 2012.

If you've waded through all 2,000+ of my words up to this point, you can probably answer this one for me... Nope.  (Also, please take a cookie break.  You deserve one for sticking with me.)

In a perfect world, my old job or something exactly like it would be located in Dallas, I would have negotiated a part-time contract while pregnant with Leighton, and I would be enjoying a wholly satisfying work-family balance.  Since we're dreaming here, Evan would be working at least 20 hours less than he does now, and we'd be eating family dinners together 7 days a week.  Yippee!

Since we live in the real world, I'm going to go ahead and surprise myself by saying this is probably as ideal as we can get right now.  Even if I'd been able to swing a local, part-time gig after Leighton was born, I'd still have a partner who works more (sometimes a lot more) than the average bear... which means, I'd still be doing the vast majority of the housework and child care just by virtue of being at home more.  Knowing myself, I can only imagine the resentfulness that situation could breed.  Yes, in theory, my career goals are just as important as my husband's, but, practically-speaking, his job pays the mortgage and saves for college and affords us wonderful vacations (he also happens to be damn good at it and, for the most part, really enjoys it).  We are both currently "taking one for the team"... me by being at home for the time being and him by logging billable hours away from us. I think we're both happy to do that (even if sometimes it doesn't seem so) in order to get where we hope to be.  In the near future (hopefully about 2 years from now), I can actually envision the "perfect world" situation I described above as reality. At that point, we will hopefully be in a place where we both can find more of a work-family balance!

I definitely plan on heading back to work in the next 5 years (hopefully 2!).  Practicing law for a nonprofit or a government agency is a great fit for me and should give me optimal hours as far as "Mama Time" goes.  My mother taught all throughout my childhood, and, looking back, I love that she worked but was also there for most of the hours I was home from school.  She is probably my work-family balance role model!  I am also giving a lot of thought to going back to school for a Masters in Counseling.  There is definitely a reason attorneys are dubbed counselors, and that role appeals to me as much as or more so than the actual practice of law.  We shall see! 

Most of my guilt centered around the fact that I felt I was out of line or ungrateful for wanting "something more" than staying at home when so many women would love to be in my shoes.  I just had to come to terms with the fact that it's completely okay to want time away from your kid(s); it doesn't mean you love them any less (this seems like such a "duh" statement, but the postpartum mind will make you think crazy things!).  I worked hard for my law degree, and it makes sense I'd want to use it... but it's also okay that I'm taking a break.  It doesn't make me boring; my opinions on topics outside of mothering still matter; whatever "role" I'm currently sporting doesn't strip me of my previous accomplishments. Etc, etc, etc.

Tips for how you make this work for you?  And advice for new moms staying-at-home?

Surrounding myself other like-minded, similar-situationed mamas has been immensely helpful!  I only had one local friend with young kiddos when Leighton was born.  She was kind enough to invite me a monthly playground where I was able to meet a few more mamas and at least drink coffee with people born before the new millennium. I also joined several moms' groups on MeetUp.com.  I didn't end up loving the huge group dynamic, but the events got us out of the house, and I met about 10 women through MeetUp who I really, really liked.  We ended up leaving the big group and forming our own, smaller group.  I see these ladies at least once a week and they are a big part of my "life line."  If you are a new mom or mom-to-be planning on staying at home for a period of time, get yourself out there a meet other moms!  Joining a playgroup or a MeetUp groups is likely the easiest way to go about that, but you can also try to make some "love connections" by frequenting the same park, library story hour, or baby/mama yoga class and seeking out the other regulars.  I am not above stalking fun-looking fellow moms on jogging paths or in the nursing lounge at Nordstrom.  No shame in my game.


I love what Erin said last week about "keeping score"... I am so guilty of this, and it's probably my biggest co-parenting challenge.  In order to be happiest about my current position and my parenting relationship with my husband, I have to banish all of the "well I've been at this all day while you've been enjoying fancy client lunches and peeing in private, so it's only fair that you change every single diaper while you're at home" thoughts.  We both work hard all day, and when we're both at home, no one gets an automatic "break" - but also everyone deserves a break... Hopefully, that makes at least an ounce of sense.  I suppose what I'm saying is it's important for both partners to appreciate the hard work the other puts in no matter who is at home and who is working outside of the home.  There should be some sort of fair division of labor, but, at the same time, keeping a mental tally chart of how many times each parent gets up with the baby in the middle of the night isn't healthy for anyone.


Here's a biggie... and one I'll end on (jeesh, finally, right?).  I could have saved myself so much angst if I'd just given myself a little grace, especially during that newborn period.  And not just about normal insecurities regarding new parenthood in general, but also about my decision to stay at home.  I was way too concerned about what that choice said about me as a "modern woman" and what my peers might think.  If you're like me and wary about staying at home, it's okay that you feel conflicted.  One aspect of your life (staying at home) does not have to reflect poorly on another (your passion for your education or your career).  Getting rid of the self-labels in your head will make you so much happier with and more confident about this particular season of your life!


Many, many thanks to Julia for heading up this series... and for allowing me to use her space as my own personal therapy session!  And thank you those who made it all the way through this shockingly long spiel -- coffee and/or adult beverages on me!