Five Ways to Get Started on Your Health and Fitness Goals (And Three Things to Skip)

Ever since people started to realize that I've been to Blob Town and back, I have had many friends tell me that they want to make a change but they aren't sure where to start. I find myself giving out the same advice over and over again, so I thought it would be helpful to put it all down in one place. There's a lot of information out there and I personally found it to be very overwhelming when I was starting out. Here is my by no means professional opinion on how to get crack-a-lackin':

Progress between Thanksgiving and Easter. By the next holiday I should be able to arrive at family dinner wearing my booty shorts. Calm down, I'm kidding. In other news, I'm definitely getting stronger and faster. Watch out, world.



1) Track your food. You don't have to (and probably shouldn't) do this forever but it's the best place to start for a few days. Diet is really the key to feeling better and losing weight. You can exercise until you fall over in a pool of sweat but if you aren't watching your nutrition and your calorie intake, you won't see the results you want. It's easy to tell yourself you've eaten fairly well that day but it's another to see it all laid out with the nutritional value and calories added up. Even healthy foods, such as natural peanut butter, really add up if you aren't careful with your portions. You might be surprised at how little vegetables you actually eat (I was not one bit surprised because, when I first started, I was passionate about the fact that vegetables were generally gross.) A very popular and easy-to-use (well, as easy as this tedious stuff gets) app for this is called My Fitness Pal. Give it a go and have a good cry at seeing your typical real-life eating habits! It's a fun time.

2) Learn about food and clean eating. Diet is everything and, if you want to see results, you need to have a (fairly...more on that later) clean one. If you hate what you're eating every day, you aren't going to be able to keep it up. Read this great article on clean eating. Research healthy substitutes for the junk you want to take out of your diet. Explore clean-eating recipes and try them out. When I first started, I thought I would stock up on bags of frozen veggies and eat them every day. Such a bad plan. That was a gross sad soggy time in life! When I realized that you could roast broccoli, it was a game changer. If you want this to be a lifestyle change, you should probably not hate that life. Find a way to like the new way you're going to have to eat most of the time.

3) Drink more water. Up that water intake! Flush out those toxins! Keep yourself feeling fuller longer! Stay hydrated! Have to pee every two seconds! You probably need to be drinking a bazillion times the amount of water than you currently are. People will start to wonder about your bladder issues but truly, water helps. I also have a tea and sparkling water obsession that keeps water from getting too boring.

4) Pick one small, manageable food goal and stick to it. Like your white bread? Switch it for brown. Do you eat two pieces of toast in a sitting? Have one. Crave juice? Switch to lemon water. Do you like to stuff your face with treats all day long? Try indulging with a treat once a day instead. If you incorporate little changes over time, you will be able to stick with it and not feel overwhelmed. These little changes and substitutions are what make the biggest difference because they become a habit instead of a chore.

5) Pick a reasonable workout goal. Aim to go for a quick walk, ride a bike, or do a twenty-minute workout three days a week. Sign up for a class that happens twice a week. Pick something that's realistic or you will set yourself up to fail. When you accomplish your small goals, they too become habits that you can be proud of and build on.



What Not to Do:

1) Extremes. Saying you will never so much as lick a piece of chocolate again is ridiculous. Promising yourself that you are going to do two-a-days until you have rock hard abs is making a promise that is not going to happen. It's going to take time and that is ok! Extremes are overwhelming, mentally draining, and a good way to set yourself up to fail. If they aren't maintainable over a long period of time, they probably aren't the best idea.

2) Buy a bunch of products or spend money on quick-fixes. Seriously. I cannot stress this enough. No pill, no wrap, no shake, and no voodoo magic is going to do this for you. It takes consistency and determination and a lot of self-ass-kicking. Don't waste your money! Even if those products do work in the short-term, as soon as you stop taking them, the weight will come back on and the laziness will creep back in. It's much better to make changes that will lead to a maintainable healthy lifestyle.

3) Give up when you don't immediately start to look like Arnold Schwarzenegger or when you eat two cupcakes at your kid's birthday party. It. Takes. Time. Mistakes will be made. It might be slow progress but slow progress is better that no progress, right? This will probably be the cheesiest thing I'll ever say but you just gotta think of that quote. You know, the one about a year from now you will wish you had started today - Dora the Explorer. Ask yourself if you want to use today to move closer or further away from your goals.



There you have it! My sage wisdom that I know intuitively learned through a lot of trial and error and frustration. This is what works for me and I hope it's helpful for you as well. Remember to take progress pictures when you start! It's painful now but you'll be glad you did when you're looking back, sitting on your newly-toned healthy butt.

Fitness Update: Trying to Escape from My Return to Square One

I hesitate to even write about health and fitness right now because anyone who sees me in real life is going to be thinking, maybe you should follow your own advice, Tara... However, real life isn't always perfect and progress definitely isn't instant. I want to share this part of my life because it has helped some of my friends and family before and because I hope to keep myself accountable. To show you that I do have a tiny bit of credibility, you can read about the start of my whole weight loss / learning about health and fitness adventure here and I'll give you a quick synopsis of what has happened since.

Before the first weight-loss journey began



After losing those 50 pounds, I went on to lose 30 more. That's 80 lbs altogether, folks, and even now I can't believe it. I was fitter than I had ever been in my life and that includes when I played hockey for nine years. In non-scale victories, I ran two 5ks and came 7th in the second race. I was really proud of what I could lift and squat at the gym. The best of all was that I had several people in my life tell me that I had inspired them to make changes to their own health and fitness. However, my anxiety and depression was at an all-time high and things took a turn for the worse.

Things were really difficult at this point...



The quick version of this part of the story is that, as a result of my struggle with mental health, I got too skinny and too focused on making sure that what I was eating was healthy. So much so that my entire obsession with this part of my life became unhealthy. After I got some help and recovered, I got back on track. I did the best I could but having little self-control while working in a restaurant as well as grieving a miscarriage caused me to gain some of the weight back. I wasn't too worried about it and was just so relieved to be mentally sound again that I was enjoying every minute of everything else in my life again. It was good for me to step back and take a break. I continued to eat well but didn't obsess.



Along came Clementine. I tried as hard as any pregnant lady can to keep her diet in check. I was even running for a bit but eventually, first trimester exhausting kept me down and I just tapped out all together. I looked quite a bit better overall than I had in my previous pregnancies but by the end, I still packed on weight like no other, felt so broken-down, and was discouraged by even the most elderly of elderly ladies whizzing past my lumbering self on the sidewalk. The number on the scale was surprisingly similar as well to my other (considerably less healthy) pregnancies, but I guess there is a lot of truth to the numbers holding less meaning than your actual body composition. Anyway, of course Clementine was worth every single pound and every grannyesque hip-pain. After Clementine, true to my usual annoyance, I didn't lose hardly any weight at all initially. Basically, once the baby was out, the rest of it just stayed. And stayed. Small amounts dropped off but I think breastfeeding might have been hindering the process rather than helping, the way the wise sages say it does. Once she started to eat solids and was nursing less, the pounds started to come off with consistent exercise. Just before Christmas, I tried on my old pre-pregnancy clothes - the biggest size though, not nearly the fit size I had been previously. I did a really attractive dance around my house when they actually fit! I was making progress! Then Christmas hit. I probably gained back 5 lbs in Nanaimo bars alone - we won't speak of the shortbread - and definitely didn't gain any strength except in my arm, shoveling food into my mouth.

This was taken Thanksgiving so I had already lost a bit of weight by this point. Just to be very clear: the pregnancy weight gain was worse than this initially!

Taken Christmas Eve in Christmas pjs. I look kind of crazy but it had been a long night and this is the only full-body picture I could find! You can see the progress though.



So, here I am! With my New Year's resolution to wake-up before my children to get those workouts in (I know, I'm laughing at me too.) I have lost just over 40 pounds so far. I've given myself Clementine's April birthday as a deadline to be back at my high-average weight (at least 15 lbs to go) and to have some strength back. This may seem ridiculous but I thrive under pressure! It's been very discouraging to have worked so very hard and to be right back where I started. I miss how quickly I used to be able to move, how much I could lift, and wearing jeans instead of leggings (let's not talk about that). At the risk of sounding like a motivational speaker, something that keeps me going is knowing that every day is an opportunity to move myself closer my goals, even if it's only a little bit. Consistency and small changes really are everything.



I'm sure a lot of people are probably thinking I'm too focused on the scale but for me, the scale isn't discouraging; it's motivating. When I get to the point where most of the weight is off, I will be focusing more on muscle and strength goals, but I'm a long way from that point. I would also like to note that, for me, losing weight is something that is part of my overall health and fitness. There is a lot of pressure on women to get their "pre-baby body" back and I'm here to tell you that that ain't ever gonna happen for the majority, nor does it need to if that's not your thing. I work out and try my best to live a healthy lifestyle because:



- It keeps my anxiety and depression at bay.

- It means taking time for myself.

- I love the challenge.

- I love the example it sets for my kids.

- I have more energy.

- I love the gym and I love lifting! There. I said it.

- I feel like crap when I eat badly.

- I'm young. If I give up now, I don't even want to see where I'll be in fifty years. Some of my grandparents kept up a very active lifestyle into their eighties. I've always admired that. They were able to come to the beach with us and give back to their community by volunteering.

- I (shallowly) love shopping and clothes and this is a much easier thing to love when you are a good ol' size medium or small.

- I gain so much weight during pregnancy that if I didn't lose it, with every pregnancy I would be creeping closer and closer to having to have a forklift move me around

There you have it. I feel like myself when I am in shape and that first step towards that is weight-loss. With all of that said, here is the first quick fit tip (note to self: come up with a better name) for the day, focused on smacking those diets back into reality after the eating marathon that is the holidays. The number one thing that helps me with my diet is....



Don't buy it. Just don't. Walk past that icecream aisle. Tell that white bread you're over him. Stick your nose in the air at those chips. I have learned that my self-control extends to the grocery store and that is all. Once it's in my house, all it takes is a couple of my kid's tantrums and I'm eating my frustration in the form of something that tastes like chocolate with peanut butter. When I'm in the grocery store, armed with a meal plan and a list, it's much easier to talk myself down.

Do buy a healthy substitute.This was key for me. It doesn't work to go home and just say, "No more bad food for me! My body is a temple!" You're going to get cravings because probably you are human, although I'm sure there is an evolved monkey or two reading this post. Try to figure out what you're craving, seek out alternatives, and then have those alternatives on hand. You can go a long long way with small changes and that's the perfect place to start. First, try something like changing out your white bread for brown. Figure out what veggies you like and reach for those instead of a bagel. Switch out your regular milk for less fatty almond milk in your coffee. The little changes are easier to maintain and come as a habit. Extremes might work for a short time but they never hold in the long run (I could do another whole post about Why I Don't Do Cleanses or Diets, but I'll stop now.)



I could talk about this all day but I think that's enough for one sitting. I will do a post of more concrete snack ideas sometime and I'll keep posting tips and updates. This kind of thing was very helpful to me so hopefully this was encouraging to someone! It's a long and often difficult road to making a lifestyle change but it's so very worth it.

New Year New Sass-Level

You're probably thinking that New Year's resolutions are stupid and cliche and I would completely agree with you. I don't know what came over me at 10:40 on a Friday night. I thought, "hey Tara, you know what would make you even more ridiculously cool? If you made one of those lists you love so much. You know, the ones where you plan out your life!" I said to myself, "planning, lists, more sleep deprivation...who could resist?"



So here I am, six New Year's Resolutions later. I am trying to recall what my resolutions were last year and the ones that I do remember, I am proud to say that I actually kept. I mean, I think so. Hopefully remembering things wasn't on the list. I figure it's a good thing I'm writing these down this year to have some accountability.

How did you know, Great Wise Fortune Cookie?!

The theme for this year is going to be The Abels Gonna Do What the Abels Gonna Do. I have noticed lately how much time and worry I have invested in thinking about what everyone else is doing, how great all of their decisions look, and how they might be feeling about my life. Isn't that crazy? My entire life I dreamed of the day where I could make my own decisions and stick my tongue out at whoever said anything about it! I wouldn't say that I necessarily even consider it in my actual decision-making process but I sure do spend way too much time thinking about how I will defend or explain my decisions to others even though, as a chronic over-thinker, I have put a great deal of thought into any conclusion I've arrived at. Trust me, I have already sat there and picked even the most carefully crafted decisions apart like a cheese-string (but not like the characters they boast on the package. I can never figure those out!) As it turns out, making your own decisions is one of the most difficult things about motherhood or adulthood. There is no one to pat you on the back and say, "oh boy! That was a really great decision! 10 points for Griffindor!" It's mucho confusing and silly to look at a family and think, "those kids are so calm and never whine. Maybe I should parent more like that mom!" Or, "man, that exact sequence of perfect decisions really worked out well for her! I should try that." Pair thoughts like that with this laughable desire to please people (actually, I think it's the desire to avoid criticism because I hate it so! Being right all the time is so much more fun) by living up to some impossible standard where you're everything to everybody and you have an anxiety attack to call your own! The realization that this is impossible is far from new but I think I haven't really had the guts to put a stop to it in my own life before. I'm sick of the self-doubt, the stress over every little decision, the worrying about how people will view me. It pains me to admit that I was even doing that but if I'm honest with myself, I was. Enough of that. I've worked way too hard to become independent for this and twelve-year-old-Tara would be ashamed of me! This year, I'm going to do what I believe to be best for my family and myself and you know what? Maybe sometimes I will be wrong. That's ok! Alright, it's not really ok but I need to learn to deal with imperfection or failed plans. Something not working out is better than never trying out of fear, worry, or being a little too comfortable. So, talk away, people! I will be the first to tell you that Tara Abel is crazy, sassy, stubborn, and not going to listen to a word you say.



This year I will try to:

1) Start getting up before the kids to workout and shower.

This is a most unfortunate thing that needs to happen. Waking up is one of the world's worst evils, especially when you've stayed up way too late to try to experience the long-lost art of silence and then didn't get anything close to a quality sleep because Clementine. However, if I want to break my lazy cycle before TLC sends me an invitation to be on my own show, 19 Unnecessary Snacks and Counting, I need to make sure I'm fitting my workouts in. I envision this as me, opening wide the double doors to my room, showered and in one of those trendy crop-tops all the fourteen year olds are wearing (?!?!?!) that will show off my abs of steel, as little birds flutter around my head while I sing out, "Good morning, sweet darlings!" This will be a big improvement to being woken up to a small baby repeatedly slapping my face, while Theo whispers loudly through my bedroom door about how hungry he is to the background soundtrack of Lu wailing about how the snow is preventing her from wearing her bathing suit to church.



2) Make family time, dates, and friends a priority.

Life gets busy but we should never be too busy for this. Keeping Friday nights as our usual family night was working really well for us. We just need to find some sort of routine to keep up our kid-dates and couple dates.



3) Figure out what I'm doing in regards to going back to school and where I want that to take me.

This is too complicated to even get into but basically it's happening in some way, shape, or form. Just try and stop me, Life's Million Obstacles.



4) Less complaining and being negative.

Sometimes I'm listening to someone talk and I'm thinking, jeez, what is your problem? You sound like a cow. That someone is me. I seem to always be able to find something to whine about and it's ridiculous. I try to always be honest but, when someone asks how I am, it's ok to say that I'm doing pretty well instead of "WELL, LET ME TELL YOU!" There are so many bigger problems in the world than who cut me off in traffic or how my children can only ever find pants with holes in them. Sometimes this negative whining is about other people - even if it's just in my head - and I want to cut that out too. People are doing the best they can and the way they go about that is not always going to be the way that I would. End of story. I'm pretty sure this was one of my resolutions last year and while I can say that I have improved, I'm definitely not cured yet. Get it together, Tara.

Look at those poor children, playing on their own!

5) Play with the kids for half an hour every day.

People without kids and super mothers are probably gasping and wondering what I do all day that this needs to become a resolution. Mothers like me, however, know how tough this can be between ballet and school and dinner and diapers and cleaning bathtubs (ok, ha, you got me. Like I ever get around to the bathtubs...). I've been getting better at this but I want it to be a concrete habit by the end of the year.



6) Pray the rosary once a week

Last year, I was determined to start actually praying every day. I know, to all you saints out there, this probably sounds like some sort of joke but it was truly something I had to really work at. I set alarms on my phone for a while and everything! I would have all these grand notions of sitting in silent meditation for hours on end and - surprise! - that never happened. I finally had to realize that there was not going to be this perfect moment and that I just had to start somewhere. For me, it was before bed. Nothing elaborate but because I started simply, it's become an actual habit that I can now build on. So, here we go!



No New Year's post would be complete without me obnoxiously signing off with NEW YEAR NEW ME, BABY! xxxooo mwah mwah mwah. For real though, I hope you had a great weekend, everyone.



P.S. If you want to listen to something that makes you holler out-loud to yourself in your kitchen, "Yeah! That's right! Do what's best for your own family!" take a listen to this episode of the wonderful Fountains of Carrots podcast.

Tallulah Talks Ed. 4

I am playing catch-up with documenting the ridiculous things that come out of my children's mouths. I think they are still funny, if old now, and I want to have it all typed out so that I can look back and laugh with them someday.



This was taken right at the end of my pregnancy and really captures how we were all feeling.



During my pregnancy....

Me: Can I have another one of your minieggs, Lu?

Lu: I just heard the baby say, "no more candy for me!"



Just before meeting Clementine...

Lu: Alright! Let me see the baby!



The next day...

Lu: Is the baby still here? Are there any MORE babies?!



After a hard day with Clementine and seeing her cry every time I put her down...

Lu: Well that baby super loves you!"



And more...

Lu: What did you say, Mama?

Me: Nothing, I was talking to Clemmie.

Lu: You silly! Clemmie is not real!

Me: ......



Lu: I think Clemmie will say, "Nooo! I don't want to be a mommy!" But I will say I would like a big tummy and a jiggly butt. I will like to be a mommy like you!

Me: .....Thank you, Lu.



Lu: I like a baby in our house!



Talking about the marriage she has already planned to her (already chosen) future husband...

Me: Do you think you will be a good wife?

Lu: Yes, but I will get mad at him. Like you get mad at Daddy.

Me: .....

We found this under our pillow one night. It's The Black Spot, from Theo. I think he meant it to be really scary but I laughed for a million years.



Theo's take on all this....

Theo: Well, I'll just sit here like a pregnant woman...



Theo: Now that we have three kids, I don't think we can handle it.



Theo: Look at my picture, Mama. It's our family...You're grumpy forever.

Me: ....



And finally...

Me: Lu, are you wearing underwear?

Lu: It's a surprise!

We're Seeing Other People. They're Our Children.

I remember when I was about twelve, my parents came up with this new system to try to encourage me to finally behave myself. It basically consisted of some sort of point system and the end goal was that, if I got ten points, I got to go to Chapters. This was major incentive because I was a big nerd and had my eye on the entire Nancy Drew section. The part of this that I probably would never have admitted to enjoying so much then, but fondly remember now, was getting to have hot chocolate with my Dad in the adjacent Starbucks. I don't remember what we talked about or what book I ended up buying but I do remember sitting there at the table, drinking sugary goodness, and soaking in the precious one-on-one time with my Dad, as only the oldest of seven could.

At some point during my recent exhausting pregnancy, I started to feel incredibly guilty for how many Netflix Naps I was taking. For those of you who are not familiar with this term, that's the time of the day when you tell your kids that they can watch a Paw Patrol or two and, once you've passed out on the couch with your mouth hanging open in a charming manner, they actually end up watching.....seven. You gotta do what you gotta do and all but I knew I wanted to start being more deliberate about the time we were spending with our kids. I also wanted to get into the habit of spending alone time with them, due to the imminent arrival of Clementine, because I knew how quickly baby life-takeovers happen, once those sweet dictators are on the scene. We decided to start dating our children, which is not as creepy as it sounds, I swear.



Now because we live the poor life (ok, in a first world problems kind of way), we had to find some really clever mostly-free ways to wine and dine our new love interests. Luckily for us, it turns out that kids are very cheap dates and easily impressed by things like M & M's and spending time together outside. In all honesty, we have put a cap on the snacks portion of the date lately because it was all a certain food-loving child of ours cared about and we were starting to get a little jealous. We felt all the "when do I get a treat? Is it treat time yet? Can I have five Kinder Eggs instead of one?" was sort of distracting him from the point, which was realizing how awesome and hip his parents are.

The hardest part about the dates has been that we have two children that go on them, which means that one is going and one is staying. There are usually some tears from the child who gets left behind. I hope that the more the outings become a regular thing, the more the left-out child will be able to relax and realize their turn will come. Either that or eventually Clementine will be old enough to also feel the pain and the two sad children can cry and commiserate together. Either way!

I try to make sure that I spend my time with them really trying to get to know them as an individual - their likes, dislikes, quirks, plans, view of the world, and whether or not they like to take long walks on a beach. I try to focus on those stories they tell that might still be going on when we are out shopping for old-age homes together. I try and think of the most thoughtful questions I can and really listen to their hilarious responses. I put my phone away. I try to let them take their time and not tell them to hurry up. The stuff other normal good mothers do but I sometimes forget in the chaos of a regular day. So far, Matt and I have taken them:

- to the park to play soccer

- to Starbucks, for hot chocolate and a necklace-making sesh

- to the animal shelter, just to look and not to come home with a kitty. Seriously. No.

- on a hike

All of these were enthusiastically received.

Some ideas we have for the future are:

- skating

- pottery painting

- going to a farmer's market

- picnic time

- sitting on a hill with some sketchbooks

- checking out the Lego store

- going to a hockey game (or let's be real, probably lacrosse because $$$$)

- taking them to an event happening in the city

- going to feed the ducks (in what feels like a million months from now. I can dream!)

- fro-yo (is that still a thing?)

- exploring a new park

- bike-rides

- Ikea ( you probably think I'm kidding but I'm not. Ikea is the most magical place on earth.)

- getting their expert help with a project, including a trip to a hardware or home store

- garage-saling

This weekend, I am taking Tallulah to see a version of The Nutcracker for kids and we are both looking forward to it. I expect to leave with a beaming daughter and me in tears because I will never be that graceful.

Do you date your kids? Do you have any great date ideas you'd like to share? I'd love to hear them! And, if you're wondering, no, my parents' point system didn't work. I am proud to say that to this very day I still don't behave myself.

A Paper Airplane Birthday Party

This year I tried really hard to keep things simple for Theo's birthday. The amount of people in our lives who have seen the real us and, yet for some reason, still want to be our friends has grown. Seeing as we have a tiny townhouse, I decided to do two separate parties for family and friends this year to try to keep all that party under control. With everything that's been going on and how exhausted I knew I was going to be, I decided to cut down on my birthday love a little bit.

Of course, I couldn't let it go completely but this year involved a couple of really easy DIY decorations that even Matt admitted were much more casual than in previous years. He's still trying to turn me into a "normal" wife but he was as happy as he gets in these situations. All that he had to do this year was make a few paper airplanes and pass me some tape. Ok, there was some cleaning and some hollering but that's how I roll.

Theo is in love with making paper airplanes, decorating them perfectly, being dissatisfied, and then starting all over again. I decided it was the perfect theme for his party. Paper airplanes that is, not perfectionism. I didn't get the most amazing pictures and the cake was lopsided but I tried! Everyone seemed to have a good time and at the end of the day, that's really all you can ask for. And cake leftovers. Lots of cake leftovers.













There you have it! Make some paper airplanes, stick them on the wall in a way that makes a pretty statement, and yell, "Nobody breathe!" because it will probably be temperamental. Coordinate your trendy straws and dollar store plates into colors that maybe have something to do with planes but you aren't sure why. There were also some matching simple streamers (not pictured) and a paper airplane garland. Brown paper everything because brown paper is amazing. Stick some tiny airplanes on skewers for the cake. Then stick some more on brown lunch bags and break out that rusty high-school cursive and you're golden! Now all you have to do is figure out how your son has managed to turn six and what you're going to do with his last year as a little boy.

I'm Still Alive I Think

See, they can practically teach themselves while I run away to Mexico!



Things have been all shades of nuts lately but here are some quick updates.



Clementine is almost eight months old and I'm still acting like she's a newborn! I don't know if I'm just trying to soak up every minute of her babyhood because it's been so long since I've had a baby or what. All I know is I'm carrying her around every minute of the day, haven't ever left her for more than an hour or two, and do everything in my power to prevent her from crying. It may sound loving but it looks a lot like crazy. I'm very attached to her and she to me, even though I think we are driving each other insane. I really do think I need to start taking more time for myself though, so I'll work on that.



Homeschooling is probably best left to people who have no other option but to stay in their houses at all times while they are waiting to be transferred into witness protection. People will tell you how much fun they are having with their children all day and how the joy is just reigning down upon them - #blessed. Well, as Maury would say, the results are in and it has been determined that that is a lie! At least for our family. Homeschooling IS fun, about 10% of the time. The rest of the time it is a lot of work, my friends. I'm not even talking about the school portion. The actual schoolwork is hardly a problem at all and truly one of the best parts of it. The actual hard part is the having your kids around all day so that, in order to be alone (EVER) you need to hide in the bathroom with the doors locked, stuffing chocolate in your face. It's having your kids, who previously got along so well, start to be at each others' throats because of how much time they are now spending together. It's having to take them all grocery shopping. Every. Damn. Time. It's my house that is in such a state it could give the people on hoarders a run for their money. As an added bonus, I also get to listen to them have philosophical arguments all day, with titles such as Stop Looking at Me, Don't Look out my Car Window, I've Never Seen that Toy in my Life but All of a Sudden it's my Spirit Animal, and my personal favorite I'm Not Singing That Song About You I am Singing it To Myself. Needless to say, it's killing me. I will say that there has been some good in all this. I have been able to see Theo start to read and spell and the excitement that lights up his face when he realizes that. I have been able to spend deliberate time with them every single day. We have gotten to spend a lot of time with our fellow homeschooling friends and had many new experiences. We've read some great books, I was reminded that I should never ever go into anything involving math because its the worst, and we don't have many early mornings. I have also been able to get to know myself even better and confirm that I am indeed an introvert, who loves silence and cleanliness and organization. The jury is still out on whether all of that and my burning desire to torture myself are going to be enough to make me do this to myself again next year. I thought it was only fair to come clean so that all of you who thought I was losing it for attempting this experiment can feel really good about yourselves for being right and all those who are saying, "I don't know how Tara does it!" or pondering trying it for themselves can do so with eyes wide, wide open.



Someday soon I am going to get up the nerve to post a fitness update. My hesitation in making myself get up to take progress pictures should give you a good idea how it's going. It's going lazy. I have good spurts and then a day or two will go by where my workout just doesn't happen. Soon those days are weeks and here I am! Re-watching The OC like I'm twelve instead of squatting this butt into a shape that actually resembles a butt. At any rate, progress has been made, many pounds have been lost, and a new and exciting workout program has been found. More on that soon.



We're renovating our basement into an actual useable space. This means re-arranging my house a bit which is both thrilling and stressful. Pictures to come. I am more than overjoyed to have a place to shoo the lego, googly-eyed craft supplies and my children.



It's almost Christmas and for once in my entire life I can say that I have successfully finished all my shopping well in advance. This was mainly due to me realizing that online shopping is the greatest thing in the world. I just couldn't even with the actual mall this year. I basically step one foot in there, immediately feel overwhelmed, and start crying and blowing my nose on a stranger's sleeves. I thought I would do everyone a favor and stay home this year and I will never do it any other way! We have successfully forgotten to use our new Advent wreath every single night, my kids have those scandalous Advent calendars with actual chocolate in them, and we haven't made a single manger craft that wasn't arranged by someone else at a kid's program. So if you feel like an Advent failure, you're not alone. My cure is to stop pretending like it's going to happen and just accept that this is who I am. A big fat Advent failure who can read Christmas books, maybe make ornaments or bake cookies to give, send up some extra "HELP ME, GOD!" prayers and participate in the events the church is offering. Finally, I am ok with that and am a calmer mom for it. Feel free to stay off Pinterest and be an Advent failure along with me!



Well, I better go clean something so that someone can come and make a mess of it twenty-one seconds later!

She's Here! Ok, She's Been Here for a While...

Sorry for the interruption in your blogging services but that long break was brought to you by birthing a human being! And by lack of sleep. And by "I'll get to it tomorrow". And by sniffing her head and staring at her face and trying to absorb all the newborn-ness that's pretty much gone already.



I thought she would never arrive. For real. I mean, they tell you to enjoy those last few days and that you won't be pregnant forever. Let me tell you though that at eleven - ELEVEN - days overdue, you really do feel like the baby is stuck in there for good or was sleeping when the How To Leave The Womb baby instincts were handed out. I also did what I sagely advise every single first-time mom friend not to do which was to allow myself the hope that I might possibly maybe be early. So of course that means when your helpful phone app tells you, hey, you're 37 weeks and you could pop at any time, you say oh, I know it probably won't happen but mayyyyyybeeeee it will! . This led me to feel like I was waiting for an eternity and beyond. Of course, the classic encouraging "ANY DAY NOW!", "WOAH! IS THAT BABY GONNA FALL OUT ON THE FLOOR!" "ARE YOU GOING TO MAKE IT THROUGH CHURCH!", "ARE YOU HAVING TRIPLETS!", "HAVE YOU TRIED JUMPING ON A TRAMPOLINE WHILE EATING SPICY FOOD UPSIDE-DOWN YET?" comments were not helping.

At any rate, when labor did start, it was the strangest labor so far. I was sitting there with a friend panting a picture for my bedroom when I felt something that definitely seemed like the real thing! Imminent baby arrival! I even kept painting for a while to make sure I wasn't jumping the gun. When it got to the point where it was literally painful to carry on a conversation, Matt and my friend were all, "time to call the midwife, lady!" (It was just like the show only less British!) The midwives came and checked and it seemed that nothing was was really happening. Call back when contractions were closer together, they said. Get some rest, they said. So I tried to sleep and no luck. Things were bizarrely painful for contractions that didn't seem to be getting any closer together. This went on all night. The next day, I decided I felt bad keeping Matt home from work if this wasn't the real thing. So off to work he went and my friend came back to stay with me because I was too in pain and nervous to be alone. After a lot of Friday Night Lights episodes, things were only getting more painful and I could no longer move because that seemed to put the baby in a position that simultaneously put me into more contractions and made my tailbone feel like it was stabbing me. Fun times! By two pm, it had gotten to the point where I had to have a big crybaby meltdown because I was in so much pain, which would be fine if things were moving along but if this was going to carry on for days, I didn't know what I would do. The thought of drugs was starting to sound really good. I was doing everything you were supposed to do and trying to stay calm and breathe and yadda yadda, and I was starting to lose it. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen! It was supposed to be a speedy, peaceful home birth and progress like the last time. I called the midwife to see what kind of magic she could conjure up to help me cope. She said I sounded pretty exhausted and was starting to talk about the option of me going to the hospital to get some morphine, if things weren't moving along. My inner hippie must have heard that because I started to get the contractions close together. Lucky for her, she got to hear the pain sounds of a thousand dying cows over the phone. "OH HONEY," she said, "I'm sending someone right now!" So I called Matt home and, shortly after, my other midwife arrived. When she wanted to check how things were progressing, I was terrified that she would find that I was still at the dreaded two cm. Surprise! I was at 8! My mood changed considerably. I was almost done! The pain wasn't for nothing! I was suddenly a birthing star, all happy and smiling and in control!

See, that's the key right there for me - staying in control. After that, it's a breeze. From this part to the part where the baby pops out is when I was considered to be in actual active labor. Everything before that was just for fun and giggles! The real labor part would end up being just short of three hours. The midwives filled up the birthing pool and got everything all laid out and ready. As I had suspected she would be, that stinker baby was sunnyside up, so they made me walk up some stairs to help turn her around. I couldn't believe how amazing these ladies were at their job. They were so knowledgeable and encouraging and knew exactly what to say to keep me from having another tantrum. Matt has become an impressive birthing assistant as well so there was a lot of hip-holding on his part for which he should really get a medal and a beer. There was hand-holding and water-breaking and then it was time to push! Last guesses, they said. Was it a boy or a girl did we think? Matt said girl, I said boy. It was time. I could do this, the midwife said, and there was going to be pain either way so I should just embrace it and make it work for me. Great, I said. Let's not mess around! No sad pitiful pushes for this sweaty wild-haired lady! Next thing I knew, there was head! There was a whole baby! They put the baby right on me and it was the most amazing unforgettable moment. You carry a baby around for nine months but it never gets less mind-blowing that that tiny person was there all along. I was so euphoric about it all that it took me a moment before I said, "Oh! So is it a boy or a girl?" Since everyone else was otherwise occupied, I took a peek and was shocked. She was a girl! I was 0-3 for guessing my children's genders. I was so thrilled about the whole experience that I didn't even dwell on what that says about me as a mom.

The midwives were so wonderful. They tidied everything up, helped me have a bath with the baby, fed me a sandwich while I fed my new baby (I'd had a mean deli meat craving, of all things, all those months), swaddled my baby, and tucked us into bed. They explained all the tests they had run on the baby and me why we were cleared and healthy. They asked if I needed anything and said goodnight - they would be back tomorrow to check on us! And so they were. They were back the next day and a couple days after that and then again a couple days after that. One of the things I was especially grateful for is that, with midwifery, you don't feel alone. I could call them with any questions and they would come right to me in my home if I needed. It was the complete opposite of my experience with Theo, where the doctor sends you home with pretty much zero idea of what you're doing and the lingering sarcastic whisper of "good luck with that" ringing in your ears. Okay so that didn't really happen but you know what I mean. Anyway, I will now never do it any other way!

We named her Clementine. Clementine was a name I had loved for some time now and it fit all of the naming criteria but I wasn't sure how Matt would feel about it. I had a couple other names that I was thinking of but when Matt heard Clementine, he said he loved it and wanted that for her name. I was pretty surprised but thrilled about it. It suits her perfectly and comes with a plethora of great nicknames!

The kids are delighted with their new little sister. I was relieved to not see any signs of jealousy and instead get to witness the whole lotta lovin' they heap on her. It's a trial to get them to stop slobbering all over her face with their kisses and waking her up with their high-pitched squeals of "SOOOOOOO CUTEEEE!!!!" Life with three is wild and busy and I'm loving it. Clementine is completely beautiful - no, really. I'm like 92.999% sure that I'm not just another one of those moms who thinks their kid is cute. I get told by a stranger that this girl is a doll a minimum of a thousand times every time we step out in public. I have to try to hide the cute under hats and such so that random people will stop touching her already wild mane of hair. She has these big gorgeous eyes and kissable cheeks. She's big on chatting and beaming smiles. The long and short of it is that we're all in love and I don't know what we ever did without her.

Tallulah Talks Ed. 3

The more pregnant I get the less I seem to be posting! You're lucky actually because you're mainly missing out on a lot of whining. Everything was going so well and I thought, hey, this isn't so bad! This is easier than I remember it! I'm tired but I can deal! Well, that was before even going for groceries made me want to roll over (preferably in the Nutella aisle so I can grab a jar on my way down) and die. I'm at the point where I don't think I could possibly be more tired and then, oh look, I am. I'll spare you any pathetic further details.

To confirm that I am in fact alive, here are some hoots from the last little while....



Tallulah presented this to me after preschool on Groundhog Day and proudly announced, "Here's my warthog!" She lives by her own rules, that girl.



Playing Chopped ...

Lu: One...two...three...Step back! I look at my plate and it's delicious.



After meeting a toddler...

Lu: Hey, you know that little guy was speaking Spanish!

Me: I don't think so, Lu.

Lu: He is! Because I could not understand him.

Me:.....

Lu: Ladies and gentlemints! I gotta tell you something.



Lu: When the baby gets here, are we going to keep him for a bit and then give him away?

Me: ....No.

Matt: You can't hide things under the couch, Lu. That's not cleaning!

Lu: UGH!

Me: What did you get from this talk, Lu?

Lu: I don't know. We talked about a lot of things!

Lu: Where are my slippers?

Me: I think they're in your room. Go have a look.

Lu (dramatic moaning) : I can just not go up and down, up and down!

Me::......



Lu: Ugh. You is stupid.

Me: Lu, you can't talk like that to me. Say sorry.

Lu: Sorry...that you is stupid!

And a few gooders from Theo...

Theo: Daddy, let's watch Star Wars...while Mama is on a trip.

Matt:.... HAHAHA

Theo: Is a booby trap where monsters jump out and attack you with their boobies?

Me: .....

Theo: Ok, who is your boyfriend?

Lu: Um...you!

Theo: Actually no. You have to pick a stuffie.

Me: Do you want me to eat that for you?

Theo: No....nice try.

Name Talk

Oh where to begin. I love names! I want to ask everyone about their names and their kid's names and their kid's doll's names and all the names! My baby stalking habit on Facebook is getting a little creepy. I spend far too much time on naming sites, checking name popularity stats, and reading birth announcements like only a true fellow name-lover could understand. I could probably talk about baby names for hours and of course they've really been on my brain these days. As with nearly everything I do, I'm always obsessed with making the most perfect decision ever known to man. If I make a mistake, I'm sticking my kid with it for life!

When I was younger, I sometimes wished that I had been named Emily or Ashley or something that ten of my friends were named. Now I don't mind having a different name and I actually kind of like it. Ok, my name doesn't seem all that different but the Irish way my parents pronounce it is different than the regular pronunciation. That part gets a little annoying but I've just stopped correcting people. The introvert in me doesn't think it's worth the mortifying moment of having to correct someone. At any rate, my parents put alot of thought into their decision and I've always appreciated that and the story behind it.

There are so many things to consider and I think that the motivations behind choosing a name are different for everyone. For us, it started out as

1. A name we both liked.

2. Something recognizable but different. Nothing popular or requiring our child to be known by first and last name to identify them.

3. A nice meaning is always good.

4. Family name for a middle.

With Theo, we didn't have any trouble at all. It's a name we have both always loved, we definitely didn't know any other Theo, it means "gift of God" (being 18 and pregnant, it never hurt to shove this fact in people's judgy faces...oops, did I just say that outloud) and we gave him my dad's name for a middle, which just happened to be a name that we both liked as well. We weren't sure if calling him Theo was too nick-namey, so we gave him the full name of Theodore, just in case he wants to use it when he becomes a doctor. No eyes were really raised with this one. I mean, maybe a few but I was completely sold and didn't care. We had to forbid a few people from calling him Teddy but no blood was shed. He's such a Theo and it was a perfect pick.

Then came Tallulah. To this day I cannot tell you how that name came about. I've always liked it but I had sort of forgotten about it until I was pregnant with her. If Theo had been a girl, his name would have been Norah. Tallulah wasn't even on the list. Somehow, I stumbled across it again and loved it. Loved. It. The look of it, the sound of it, the spunkiness. To me it was a unique but easy-to-say name that was a little retro, full of personality, and pretty. I didn't actually think it was all that out there until I tried it out on my husband. He thought I was nuts and wanted to "just call her Sarah or something." I tried to fall in love with a more conventional name but it just wasn't going to happen. I spent hours on the millions of name sites I pour over and nothing felt as right to me as that. So I started to try it out on my baby bump to see if I could turn Matt around. At first there was a lot of "stop calling her that!" but when she finally arrived, he said "So let's name her Tallulah then?" and the rest is history. It suits her perfectly. I had originally thought she would go by Lulah and wasn't a huge fan of Lu or Lulu. As names do, it changed with her and now she goes mainly by Lu or Lulu and a whole bunch of other nicknames that I never could have predicted. In the end, Matt seemed alright with Tallulah, so that sort of fit the first criteria. We definitely haven't met any other Tallulah's but people never seem to mishear it, probably thanks to Bruce Willis and that actress Tallulah Bankhead which I have tried to avoid finding out too much about because I heard she was rather wild and didn't wear underpants or something. Again, not about to look that up. Tallulah means "lady" or "princess" which seems to suit how very girly she is. Matt chose her middle name which honors his grandmother, so that box is checked off as well. Bonus: it's also super satisfying to say when she's in trouble AND I know that when she's running away from me, she knows exactly who I'm talking to!

I would say that I don't usually share my babies names before they are born but I don't think that that's actually true. My lack of self-control usually leads me to tell a few people and there are always a couple of close friends who I try it out on or corner to make them listen to my pro-con list. I think the problem with this is that if you put it out there for opinions, you actually get opinions. Duh. This can be really great and help you to think of things that you haven't thought of. It can also be really confusing and make you doubt your choice. Sometimes, there are good reasons to re-think (i.e. naming your kid after a Game of Thrones character, taking a normal name like Jake and turning it into Jaiyyke with a silent X, naming your kid something you completely made up on drugs at the birth, etc) but sometimes, it comes down to personal taste and I think you really just have to go with what you think is right for your kid. I put on this whole you-can't-tell-me-what-to-do air but really at heart, I think I'm a huge people pleaser and when it comes to something like this, I really really want everyone to love it as much as I do. I'm realizing this time around that a baby name that absolutely no one could have a problem with just does not exist. Which is great actually, because if that name did exist, everyone would be called the same thing and how boring would that be!

Our criteria has changed a bit over the years. When we picked a name for the baby we lost, we realized we had unknowingly added

5. No more T's. (Complete coincidence the first two times. I loved Tallulah's name too much in spite of the T but it irks me to this day.)

6. Full, possibly three syllable name with a nickname is a good option.

We ended up choosing Augustus (Gus) Matthew. Another name that seemed so very right to us and it meant a lot to me that we gave him a name that reflected his siblings'.

So what do you name a sibling for Theo, Tallulah, and Gus? I feel like we have really parked ourselves into a naming niche now. We almost need to add:

7. Kind of quirky or retro.

8. Something that goes with our other children.

Sibsets might not be important to everyone but they are too me. I've always sort of done a (hopefully sneaky) head tilt when someone says their kid's names are Peter, Anne and Jagger. What happened there? How is Jagger going to feel about his name being the one that doesn't go with the others? My feeling also extends to having an Isabella, Sophia and Sloane. It doesn't seem fair to give the two daughters such girly names and have Sloane stuck with a more masculine sounding one.

Plus, you can write off all the names that rhyme with your kid's names and anything that doesn't go. For example, we will never have a Theo and a Leo. Naming a child something like Lila wouldn't make much sense either because that's a lot of of L when you're calling Lulu and Lila across the playground.

Do you see what I mean?! It's like a name spiral. It makes my head hurt but I can't stop thinking about it! With this baby, we also don't know the gender so I really have to be on my game. My first instinct for a girl's name was actually much more of a classic choice than the one we seem to be heading for. Surprise! That was actually Matt's doing. I couldn't believe my ears. I'm trying to love our more classic choice and get Matt on board as well because, depending on how many future children we have, I'm going to have a really hard time coming up with many more individualistic names. We're still sort of waffling around but we seem to have at least solidly landed on a boy's name, much to my relief. I was worried for most of this pregnancy that if it was a boy, he would be nameless. Once again, when we found the name, it just fit. I mean, I hope it fits! We always have a few backups, just in case....

A Baby Nook

I've been trying to listen to everyone who keeps telling me to relax about baby prep (actually, that's a lie. I've just gotten really good at smiling and saying mmhmmm while still going over my to-do list in my head). I knew though how fast this due date was going to sneak up on me and here we are, just over five weeks out. It's not that I'm one of those wishful delusional people that thinks I'm going to have the baby early or whatever. It's just that I don't want to be spending my last few uncomfortable weeks organizing blankets or waddling and sweating around the mall looking for the ever allusive perfect first outfit. Even running errands has gotten ridiculously frustrating because all I want to do is accomplish something but the amount of time it takes me to do anything is laughable. Can you tell I'm getting grumpy?

Anyway, this weekend I managed to actually complete a project I have been working on for way way too long now - the baby nook. After many a roadblock with the making of the mobile (damn it, overly-expensive Michaels! How can you not have double-sided gold paper?), among other things, I put the finishing touches on with the aid of my best friend that I always sucker into helping me.

As usual, when I started this project, I got too excited to remember to take any before pictures. Basically it was a closet with mirrored doors in a boring vanilla work-in-progress master bedroom. That's all.

We are reusing our old change table and to make that more interesting, I did a small knob upgrade which made a huge difference. We took the bulky top off eventually as well.

This before photo is of half the dresser because I had already replaced the knobs on the other drawer before I took the photo. I wasn't about to put those cheesy little animals back on, so this is what you get!

We are lucky to have a large master bedroom which was easily divided by one of my favorite and most versatile pieces of furniture - the Ikea expedit. We didn't know where we were going to put this when we turned the playroom into a bedroom but I was really excited about using it as a room divider and baby storage. I never know what to do with all the tiny socks and washcloths and such so the bin system works really well for me.











There you have it! Simple, calm, and pretty. I was really happy with how it came together. Matt was looking at it the other night and saying, "You know, we've never had a room to decorate for a baby." He was right! Every time we have had a newborn, there was some sort of weird circumstance that meant our baby got the ugly sad end of the stick (ie. a bassinet at the end of our bed. Oh the tragedy!) The baby won't have their own room for a while, on account of their siblings needing to be kept apart in their own rooms so that we can at least pretend to get sleep over here. It was a great feeling this time to prepare a space while we wait for this little one to arrive and undoubtedly have a poop explosion all over that nice white crib sheet.

Two Despicable Parties

I survived another year of birthday-Christmas-birthday and lived to post about it in an untimely manner! As you can tell when you look very closely at my eyeballs, which are hanging permanently out of their sockets from me making my stress face, every round seems to come up even more quickly than the last.

Now, you may be asking yourself, what in the heck is wrong with this crazy pregnant lady? Just get a cake mix, some balloons and call it a day. I too have thought this exact same thought and though I've tried to convince myself, I just can't stay away from the siren song of the DIY birthday party. I love it! I love to bake things like cakes but I can't allow myself to have treats in the house on non-special occasions because I will eat them. All. No, like actually all. The crumbs of the crumbs will be slurped away. I also love to craft but the opportunities to make giant floating puffs of tissue paper and attach them all over your house are limited. I used to tell myself that I did all of this to save money as well but in reality, you can get decorations for so cheap these days that I don't think that's actually true. I suppose my biggest reason is that it makes me heartily pat myself on the back and feel like a fantastic mother, which doesn't make a lot of logical sense because truly alot of the moms I admire are the ones who just don't give two toots about this kind of thing. I think I just tell myself things such as "Well, I may be terrible at keeping baby books, playing games that involve lying on the floor, and I don't allow markers in the house, but I can make a mean streamer waterfall." And so, my friends, on birthdays I go all out. It is truly a time of celebration and near-divorce, as I run around the house throwing tape and hollering orders at anyone who is forced to help or listen.

This year, much to my cringing horror, Theo wanted his very first trademarked character birthday. Minions. I love Despicable Me probably even more than the next person but I just have a really hard time getting on board with this brand stuff. I can't help it. I don't care if I'm the last person standing who doesn't love these types of things but I just...don't. I decided to take inspiration from O Happy Day to try to minimize my pain but keep my kid's heart happy. Her advice was to throw in a couple key items but to just make the rest of the party your own. And that is what I did.

No party guests were harmed in the making of this photo. I just figured their parents probably don't want them associated with this madness.

I could not believe how easily this cake came together. It was absurd.

What always feels like much to soon after purging my living room of bits of candy canes, a billion baby Jesus's, and the inevitable styrofoam explosion that happens when you try to force your unwilling Christmas ornaments in the box, Lu's birthday shoots around the corner and surprises us. Just like her brother, she was thrilled to give me a half heart-attack and ask for a party to the theme of the fluffy unicorn from, yes, Despicable Me. Luckily for me, the people who make money from making plates out of these sorts of things haven't figured out just how marketable fluffy unicorns are, so this theme was left much more to my interpretation.

Just so everyone is aware, if Matt's first career choice doesn't pan out, he's well on his way to becoming a professional garland maker. Alright, so he only really twisted some things here and there and held up the string for me but I think he gets a B for effort. If he had toned down the noises that make it sound like he needs to get his appendix taken out, I might have have given him an A.

These tassel garlands had the bonus of sort of resembling unicorn tails.

There was alot more food than this sad bowl of chips, but I didn't have time to put it out before I took the photo. On special occasions, I do actually need to make getting out of my pajamas a priority.

Matt also helped with the streamers. By this point, he had stopped trying to fight me. What a stellar job he did too! We're quite a team. Me dictating, him hanging. Me getting frustrated at his slow pace and joining him on the hanging. Profesh.









Ok, so this is where I need to confess my deepest shame: I used a cake mix. From a box. The horror. Lu wanted a white cake because "dat is more like a unicorn" but I hadn't practiced my white cake making skills enough to trust myself to successfully create four layers. So we went the box route which felt a lot like cheating and tasted a lot like sponge. It looked pretty though! The cake topper was brought to you today by Matt, a tiny pony toy, a toothpick, a can of spray paint, and the word "Damn it!".

Look at those adorable fluffy unicorns! I made the horns out of a headband, foam paper, wrapping paper, and a stapler because my glue gun is no where to be found.

So there you have it! The nutshow is over for another year. My marriage is still intact (we even had a moment hanging up the garlands where Matt sincerely told me that he realizes that I am completely crazy and he still really loves me. So. Sweet!) Two extremely happy children have repeatedly thanked me for their parties which they "just loved" and have informed me that they have already started planning for next year. Hurray! Hopefully anyone planning a Despicable Me party of any kind will feel inspired by all of this, but as for me, I'm ready to hang up the scotch tape for a while.

This Is It and It's Ok

Well, this baby is due to pop out in 10 weeks which is both exciting and semi-terrifying (almost as terrifying as when a little friend of Theo's, who was over to play, got talking with with us about our new baby and piped up with, "Babies don't really 'pop' out though, right?" I said "Not exactly...Oh look, a distraction!") I realize that I've had two kids before so this should be like riding a bike, right?

I'm hoping this will be a much easier bike than I have had to ride in the past. When Theo was born, I was nineteen, fresh off the marriage boat, living in my in-laws' basement, and though I didn't know it I was struggling with depression and anxiety. Our possessions were basically second-hand baby clothes, one year's tuition for a journalism program I would no longer be attending and whatever generous people had given us for wedding gifts. I remember one night, in between HGTV marathons and breastfeeding, crying my eyes out while kissing Theo's little nose and telling him it was going to be ok. I could do this, even though I had no idea what that was going to mean. It turns out that it meant moving into a sketchy teeny first apartment and eating a lot of chocolate Costco muffins and chicken drumsticks because I was still learning to really cook. We would cuddle on the couch to the smells of the neighbours' pot haven across the hall. Life was frustrating but somehow it was ok. Theo was a sweetheart of a baby and made things really easy for us. We were totally in love with our wild-haired little boy.



We found out we were pregnant with Lu pretty quickly - read: Theo was still five months old. At the same time, Matt had been looking for a company to start his plumbing apprenticeship with but it was the recession and nobody was hiring. Friends of ours in Edmonton put him in touch with a neighbour and next thing we knew, we had leapt at a job offer and we were moving. When we told our parents all of that news at once, there was some happy talk but also some speculation that we had really hopped on the train to the town of cray. Looking back, I can completely understand the mixed reactions but at the time, I was feeling a little lonely staying at home with my tiny baby so I figured one more would really liven things up. I had friends in Edmonton, we wouldn't be there forever, it would be ok.



Fast-forward to another terrible apartment in one of the sketchiest parts of Edmonton, where I would spend my entire day alone because we only had one car. Still, I tried to make it as pretty as possible in that small small space and to fill the long days for Theo and me. After experiencing what I thought was gas turned oh-yeah-those-are-definitely-contractions and an almost car crash, beautiful Tallulah was born. Lu had reflux which meant the poor girl was in pain and cried alot. Feeding her was challenging. Actually, doing anything was challenging because she had to be on me at all times. My mom came to stay and help for a few days and when it was time for her to leave, I was more than a tad worried about how I was going to handle a 14 month old and a newborn. I remember making it through the first day on my own and going, I can do this. I can really do this. I have to wash my newborn's clothes at the laundromat but I can do this.



Matt ended up getting an even better job offer soon after and we moved into a much nicer neighbourhood, in a townhouse with quite a bit of space, an area for the kids to run around outside, and - thank God - a washer and dryer. I got a job at a gym down the road in the childcare department which really helped break up the still lonely and still long days. Matt would go to work before the sun came up and would often be gone until after dinner. We were both exhausted and, without our parents around, we didn't really get a break. Still, I loved being a mom and I tried really really hard. I learned about healthy eating and my cooking slowly improved. We sang and we read and made faces at each other, like good moms and babies do. I tried to be patient and I tried not to yell. I told them I loved them and kissed their sweet faces multiple times a day. Still, nothing I did was perfect enough to please myself and the depression and anxiety steadily got worse. Life got nearly impossible then but that's a story for another day. The point is, things were much much harder then than they are now and my first two experiences of babyhood were a complete whirlwind. Sometimes, I wish life had been easier then so that I could enjoy what fleeting time I had while my babies were small, but I know I did the best I could with what had been thrown at me. In the end, I suppose that's all any mother can say.



At one point, I had hoped that my third baby could be sort of a do-over. A chance to have that perfect mom experience. We have our own home now, we live close to the support of our parents, we have a washer and dryer and even a dishwasher, and I'm better. You know what? It's still not going to be perfect and that's ok because perfect is not real life. I'm going to the enjoy the crap out of this baby, even if it still has to ride around in some clunky cheap stroller, wearing some hand-me-downs from its siblings. I might be a bit scared of doing this again and it might be hard. Hopefully, things will never be as hard as they once were but I know that I can do scary and I can do hard. All I really have to remember about a baby is that cliche old ladies say on repeat about how fast it goes because it's true. You have to enjoy those speeding moments that you get because they aren't ever going to slow down. No matter where you're at or how your life is packaged, this is it. And most of the time, it's pretty wonderful.

Tallulah Talks Ed. 2 (heavily feat. Theo)

Lu: I like to sing more louder so that everyone can hear it.



Lu: Honey, do I look good?

Theo: ....



Lu: Oooh, mama, you're getting too big for this couch. It's not gonna fit you anymore.

Me: ....Thanks Lu.



In the last little while, Theo was the one who I was trying to hide my laughter from most often.

"Mama, this is a picture of you getting married. You're saying "AHHHHHHHHHH!"

Theo: Tallulah, if you keep yelling at me, you're gonna be k-l-p-f-e-y-. And that means no yelling!



Theo: Time to get the big black scissors! We need to cut your hair.

Me: No.

Theo: Aw, please? Just the hairs that are sticking up?

Me: No.

Theo: Awwwww mannnnnnn.



Me: Theo and Lu, what are you doing up there?

Theo (in a very loud whisper) : Quick Lu! Keep her busy!



On babies in Mama's tummy....

Theo: I don't think I want this baby. I heard they whine a lot for food.



On babies that used to be in Mama's tummy...

Theo: Remember Gus? Wouldn't it be funny if Jesus had boobies so that he was feeding Gus up there?

Me:.....

Lu:.....HAHAHAHA



On race...

Theo: So, when am I going to turn brown like Uncle Si?

Me: .....



Theo (after sitting awhile in silence, pondering and sighing) : Aw Mama, I wish you were white like us!

The Little Things: Door Updates

Since we bought our place two years ago, we have been slowly but surely bringing it into the modern world. We know that this isn't our forever home and also that my part-time job of hoping a rich stranger will feel sorry for me and hand us wads of cash has not been particularly lucrative. So we have had to work with what we have. You would not believe how quickly things that, in a spoiled way, you had previously thought were sort of a given, such as baseboards and light-switches, add up. So instead of buying replacements, we have done some DIY upgrades that we've been really pleased with.

One of these upgrades was our doors. We had the standard brown builder doors that you find in most homes built in the 80's. They were so blah that I wanted to fall asleep looking at them and they were really bringing down the style that I was trying to achieve in our home. What we ended up doing was gluing trim on them to make them look more current and then we gave them a fresh new coat of white paint. I (very badly...I was excited and have no patience) spray painted the door knobs black for some extra drama. What a difference! Our house instantly looked less dated.



One of my next biggest "ews" were our mirrored closet doors in the master. Nobody wants to have to see full-body views of themselves eating Ben and Jerry's that often, ok? Besides that, in the picture I had in my mind of my future bedroom, the mirrored doors stuck out like a granny in Forever 21. Sadly, new doors were not in the budget and frankly did not seem worth it in the big scheme of all I hope to eventually do to this house. I realized that the biggest problem was the really bad finish on the doors and that I could deal with the actual mirror part.



So I recruited my husband and brother to carry them down to the garage. They are much heavier than you'd think and those two practically gave me a heart attack with their lack of concern for my helpful "WATCH IT! BE CAREFUL! YOU KNOW THERE'S A WALL THERE, RIGHT?!" comments. Once they were in the garage, Matt put the doors up on a sawhorse and we got to work on the most essential part of the process - taping and covering the mirrors. This must be done well or your project is a bust.



Next, we spray-painted them with a primer and then a few coats of white paint. Ok, actually Matt did that. I'm realizing that his resistance to these projects is because he's probably catching on to the fact that he's really doing most of the work. I'm pregnant, ok! At any rate, we bribed my brother with beer to come back over and help move the doors back up. Ta-da! Instant update!

Now to get rid of that horrid carpet....I can already hear Matt sighing and saying, "No, Tara" in my mind but don't worry. I'm distracted by another project for the time being. This is the project where I purge our master of two out of four mirror closet doors that did not get painted, leaving a wide open space to create a baby nook AND creating the opportunity to re-do our entire bedroom. Updates to come!