Bueller Genius: Life Moves Pretty Fast

I should preface this post by saying I may have raging hormones right now, which always makes me cry over everything (including screaming contestants on "Celebrity Apprentice."  Why can't they just be friends? Whyyyyyyy?)

One reason I have ungodly lust for my camera is that it allows me to capture moments.

I forget how quickly time flies.
How much the babies have grown.
And I take for granted that they're small enough to love on.
And I'm an important part of their tiny little universes.

Until I see a picture like this that breaks my heart a little

 

He's so little.
And already walking away from me.


Pass the tissues.

The Bomb Diggity

If camera stuff puts you to sleep, grab yourself a pillow because I'm about to get all camera porn on you.

I have my eye on a new lens (Nikon 50mm f/1.4 AF-S for all you nerds out there).

But a new lens can be a little bit of a commitment in the wallet department, so I rented one just to see. And I luuuuuurv it.  I love that I can finally get a nice bokeh (nerd speak for soft background). Also, let it be known that NOBODY knows how to pronounce "bokeh."  Behold my bokeh porn:

Mmmm....bokeh....

Mommy's too busy kissing her lens to clean baby's shirt

I also want to make sweet love to this lens because it is sooo much faster and affords me the ability to shoot in lower light AND it's easier to get pictures of the moving targets babies that are in focus and play with my focus in a super speedy way.

I'm also soooper proud of myself that I now shoot in full-on manual mode and I'm getting properly exposed pictures. Yee ha!

Brendan is not as excited as I am about this magic lens of bokeh/focus/aperture

Here's hoping that Mother's Day will deliver this shiny object of my lust into my greedy hands.

A Twin Tale

First it was Wrong. And then it was Right. And then it was so, so Wrong.

My babies are ninjas so we now change diapers on the floor.

As I changed Finn's diaper, foresooth! Cassidy became interested in our activities.

And Behold! Freud lives! Cassidy became interested in Finn's junk and wanted to violate him with her curiosity.

But the tides turned from Inappropriate Town into Sweetness when she decided that giving him kisses was a good alternative to penis envy.

My heart swelled with the sweetness of this sibling moment.  My baby giving kisses to her brother.  Awwww....

Even if Finn wasn't that interested in a slobber bath, it was so stinkin cute.

And then Cassidy decided to move on to bigger and better things involving toys...

With souvenir in hand.

(Don't worry- not a penis. I know that's what you were thinking)

Poop nugget.

From Finn's diaper.

She got across the room before I was able to retrieve her prize...Cause you know, she's fast. And I'm old.

The End.

Ah may be cute but ah like da poop. Don't hate.

Work It! Own It!

It's been a year.

365 days since I've been walking that delicate tightrope of working motherhood.

I survived the initial anxiety of re-entry, pumping milk in a server room whilst unplugging important electronic thing-a-ma-jigs, nanny hell, and never-ending to-do lists.

And so far, everyone is unscathed. The babies are happy. The husband is happy. And I recognize myself in the mirror at the end of the day. It's been hard, but there is no question that returning to work was the right thing for me and for our family.

And now, I have a request. This is unorthodox, but you Interwebbers have never let me down. I've been asked to write a short seminar on Working Moms.  And while I live it 6 days a week, I don't profess to be an expert.

So could you take a moment from your busy, baby- and paperwork-wrangling days to write a brief comment on what WORKS for you? What shortcuts save your sanity?

And I should add, even if you're not a working mom, maybe you have some great ideas about making your days more efficient.  All suggestions are welcome!

Help me not look stoopid....

Like Anne of Green Gables, But Without All the Horses

This Mom learning curve is brutal stuff.


Like last night when we had a wheezing, panting, irregularly-breathing toddler (3 wheezing, crunchy breaths and then no breathing- lather, rinse, repeat)

We could hear him from the other room with the sound machine blaring, so we knew it was bad.

So I called the After-Hours nurse. She said he had the croup.

Me: Um...No. The croup is something from horsey-times. Like when Minnie Mae got the croup and Anne of Green Gables brought all the Ipecac and boiled water and saved her and then she got to sleep in the guest bedroom and jumped on the Aunt and oh the drama!!!

Nurse: He has the croup. Lots of kids get it. He needs to be steamed within an inch of his life.

And then I had to explain all this to my husband.

Brendan: WTF is croup?

Me: It's something from horsey times.

So I tried to channel my inner Anne of Green Gables and nurse Finn back to health. Only I didn't have any ipecac so it was like I was competing with a handicap (Damn You, 21st century!).  So we steamed and  steamed and steamed until my skin was glorious and we were all sticking together like sweaty, wet Glue People.

11:30pm is no time for steamy spa treatments

The bad news: Croup did not, as I believed, go the way of the horse and buggy.  And we only got about 4 hours of sleep all together.

The good news: Steaming is badass and good for the complexion and Ipecac is overrated.

Fudge You Scale! (Mmmm... Fudge....)

Like a giant succubus, weight loss is sucking my will to live.

I'm low carbing.
I'm dry heaving jogging my way through the neighborhood 3 times a week.

And my scale is still giving me the middle finger.

3 pounds away from pre-pregnancy weight.
10 pounds away from Holy Hawtness(!) wedding weight.

And it's more stuck than the Sword in the Stone.

So I don't want to talk about it.

Except to say my forehead is going to go all flat and denty from banging it against the wall soon.

But at least the flat, denty forehead should distract you from the sound of my thighs rubbing together.

My Booty's the Only One Applauding

You know that term, "booty clap?" It's in a lot of rap songs, I think. (So you know it's full of Klass). I never paid much attention until the other day when I was jumping up and down and I heard some enthusiastic applause.

Clap! Clap! Clap!

I stopped jumping.

The clapping stopped.

And it hit me.

That was my ass...

Clapping

I can't explain the physics of it.  I just know that since the babes, everything's a little looser.  And I'm just relieved my cheeks didn't reach up and slap me in the head.  Because that just wouldn't be very nice.

So until things firm up, I'll have to make sure I don't jump up and down in public. Because, hello? EmbarrASSing! (Try not to throw up in your mouth over that terrible joke)

But with my ongoing battle with negative self-talk, I'll take reinforcement wherever I can get it. Even if it's a standing ovation from my arse.