Sebastian: Four Months

I know.  I realize these monthly updates can get monotonous and boring.  It’s a picture of a cute baby and a bunch of words on how his “personality” is coming out, how he spends his days (and nights), and how much we love him to pieces.  A lot of you are moms that know what kinds of trouble four month-olds can get into…none.  Unless you count spitting up all over your clothes, their clothes, your floors and walls and surfaces and everything in between.  So, here’s the cute baby:

Now feel free-as-can-be to move along because here comes my take on his personality.

Sebastian.  A happy-spitter, as his Doc calls him.  He eats, he burps, and woop, there it is.  Like clockwork.  Needless to say, I never wear anything more than once before it gets tossed into the laundry basket.  He started giggling this month when tickled.  Super ticklish that kid.  Still hates his car seat which is great for my social life (and my sanity).  Can we say “cabin fever”?  Yes we can, we do, and we will.  What else?  Oh, he’s in the 90-95th percentile for height, the 75th for weight, and the 50th for head size.  So much different than his sisters at their age.  They were always, always, always in the teens and twenties for weight and head size but above average for height.  He weighs now what they weighed at nine months of age (around 15.5 pounds).  That is crazy to me. 

He still sleeps right next to mwah in his co-sleeper but by “sleeps” I mean notallnight…yet.  He fidgets around for food twice or thrice per night which is wonderful for my beauty sleep (and the reason I should stay far away from selfies).  However tough some nights might be though, I awake to him every morning, on his tummy, propped up on his tiny elbows with a grin the size of Texas just staring at his one true love which leads me to the fact that… 

He’s a momma’s boy.  Only wants me, me, me…and Daddy too but mostly me - also great for my social life with the girls.  I sometimes wonder what they think about this kid who’s always attached to the mom they used to know.  It’s okay though because I ward off neglect by getting in twin-time during Sebastian’s several daily naps.  :) 

Speaking of those girls, they turned 22 months old last week.  Want to know about their personalities?  They’re bursting at the seams with them, like most almost-two-year-olds.  Let’s do it acrostic style:


She’s our “good girl”.  We say “no”, she stops.  We say “go”, she goes.  We say “jump”, she jumps.  The one exception to the rule is doing her biznaz on the toilet.  We’ll not revisit that nightmare but if you want to, have at it

Oh Cecilia.  I love her so much I want to squeeze her and she drives me so crazy sometimes that I want to squeeze her for that too.  Everything is a game with her.  ‘You want your cell phone back, catch me if you can.’  ‘Ooh, let’s see how close I can come to jumping on Sebastian’s head without actually jumping on it.’  She lives for the chase, for real.  If she was a hashtag, she’d be #comeandgetme with #tryandstopme coming in a close second.

Our girls, our girls.  Comrades, mutual entertainment, partners in crime, all of it AND beauties to boot.   

And, as is typical with that little thing called “sisterhood”, they’re the best of friends…

…and the worst of friends.

All cute, all ours and man do we love ‘em.  :)

Back & Forth

Our girls absolutely love to swing.  They’d eat, sleep, and p-double-o-p swinging if they could.  I imagine it’s a past time most kids share.  Lucky for them, for their first birthday last year Grandpa and Grandma bought them two of these swings.  Unlucky for them, we literally just hung them last week.  We’ve had them stored away in the attic over the winter in hopes that this spring we’d have time to hang them.  The plan was to find a solid branch or two in the front yard and hang them from a tree.  The other part of the plan was to paint them so that 1) they’d sort of match the house a little better since they’d be right in front of it and not detract from curb appeal and 2) so that they were more gender neutral since Sebastian would probably share his sisters’ love of swinging one day.

So, finally and with some spray paint specially made for painting plastic (by Krylon), the swings went from this:

with this:
photo 1 (2)

to this:

As you can see, we ditched the front yard/tree swings idea after a good friend gave us their old swing set.  Now all the fun is in the backyard.  (Side note:  If you’re on the market for some swings and not opposed to a little DIY, check these out.  Our original plan was to make two of them but by the time we could have gotten them done with everything else on our plate, the girls (and boy) would be inhabiting them in high school.  Not cool.)

Unfortunately, I’m not enthused with the spray paint.  Even though it’s made for plastic, it has seemed to easily chip away in areas where plastic meets plastic, like where the safety bar meets the bottom of the seat.  The seat itself however has held up pretty good so far.  It’s withstood a few rainstorms and a week of being outside in the heat.  Time will tell if it’ll hold up for the long haul though.  I’ll keep ya posted. 

I used one can of spray paint per seat and could’ve used more.  I’ve found that as much as I like the way that Krylon sprays in a line vs. a circular spray like Rustoleum and other spray paints, it doesn’t seem to cover as well.  One can would probably have been good enough per swing had I used Rustoleum but since it sprays with a circular spray, it may have been tough to not have the swing look blotchy.

Either way, the kids really don’t care what the swings look like as long as they move. 

And move they do.

Check It

Hello, hello, hello.  I was hoping to have some sort of something DIY for you this week but alas, I don’t.  The next thing up on the ‘ole to-do list is to paint a rug for the entry way.  I’ve got the rug and paint but I’m still on the fence about the process and in need of a few more supplies so hopefully in the next week I’ll be able to get out of the house solo to grab those things and get that done and shared.  Until then, clickety-click on these:


Have you heard of Fall for DIY?  It’s where Francesca creates a whole lot of things, all DIY and all beautiful with excellent tutorials to boot.  I found her on Instagram (@fallfordiy) somehow and her jewelry tutorials grabbed me by the sleeves and sucked me in.  I don’t have a ton of jewelry, one because I’m pretty plain in that department (but I’m working on it) and two, because it can get expensive.  So, when I saw some of her tutorials on how to make your own jewelry, I swooned and tucked them away for a quiet moment or two.  My favorites are this statement necklace and these concrete earrings.  On a related note, JoAnn Fabrics and Michaels both have jewelry sections with pre-made statement necklaces that only need to be strung by a chain.  I’ve spent many a minute in those sections and have sworn that for the next special occasion we attend, I’m bringing in a coupon and buying the supplies needed to whip up a new necklace.

A few weeks ago, Anthony came home to chaos (happens a lot) and no dinner.  Quickly, I did what I do best and searched for an easy recipe involving a whole bunch of random things we had on hand and stumbled on this one for Fire-Roasted Mac & Cheese at Everyday Reading.  We substituted fresh cherry tomatoes for the canned tomatoes simply because those we did not have but it was SO GOOD.  Seriously.  I even bet you could use any type of pasta and add chicken or sausage if you will it.  It’s fairly easy, a must try, and a definite staple meal.

You might’ve noticed we’ve added some new-ish blog buttons on the side bar over yonder --->
Head over and check out Britt at The Fisk Files, Katie at The Lane Above, and Elizabeth at All Kinds of Things.

So, yesterday.  Two ‘o clock rolled around and everybody was fed, clean-diapered (minus one me…duh), and ansty so we packed up and shipped out to Goodwill where I snatched up a few cotton tops to turn into headbands for the ladies in the family.  I’m not quite done with this endeavor but you know I’ll share when I am.  Here’s a sneak peek from Instagram:
photo (1)

Last, a little housekeeping.  I’ve had these pillows in the girls room on their window seat since they were wee ones and they’ve recently been taking up residence to “read” on said window seat, but not before throwing the pillows off. 

photo (2)
Since the girls will be moving to another bedroom to make way for Sebastian in a few months and neither of their preliminary room designs will include these pillows, I thought I’d see if anyone here would want them.  They’re by Dwell Studio from Target and are blue on one side, white on the other and the geometric print is embroidered on and dark brown.  They have a couple of loose embroidery threads that I’ve dabbed a tiny bit of fabric glue on to prevent from coming off more but are overall in really good condition with no stains and perfectly working zipper enclosures.  They measure 17 x 17 inches laying flat.  I’m asking $15 shipped for both pillow covers (I’m keeping the inserts).  Email me at with your paypal email if you’re interested.  First come, first serve.  :)

Happy Humpday! 

Ten Years

I wasn’t planning on posting today but then I listened to a song that I played over and over and over when the twins were born, not because it pertained to my life at all at that point in time, because it didn’t.  I just loved it and it’s melody took me outside of myself.  It’s been awhile since I’ve listened to that song but today I pulled it up again just for kicks and it pertained to today.  If you’ve been reading the blog for awhile, you might know that my dad passed away when I was in college.  It was 10 years ago today.

When he died, it was one of the hardest times in my life.  I was closer to him than I was to any person on the face of this earth.  He taught me everything I needed to know about love and how to love in the very, very worst of times, especially those who hurt you the most..  He was a very faithful Catholic and while he wasn’t immune to sin nor was he perfect, he placed everything he had into God’s hands and sought to be with his Maker by going to Mass regularly, not just on Sundays but any day that he could.  We’d go together when I was home from college, my siblings and I and him, to the gorgeous chapel at Boys’ Town near our home in Omaha, Nebraska.  While I was off at college he’d go and tell me about the amazing confession he just had with the great priest there.  In the year before the end of his life, our family broke into pieces and although he struggled immensely with the situation, his faith never waivered.  It’s that faith and knowing how close he was to Jesus and how he depended on him with his life that got me through his passing.  We were given an immense amount of grace at his funeral, so much so that joy overtook us (my siblings and I) and instead of feeling sorrow, we were so happy that he wasn’t suffering anymore and that he was headed to heaven.  We heard through the grapevine that a lot of people were really skeptical seeing that we weren’t all crying at his funeral.  We actually wore white instead of black because we wanted to not mourn the end of this life, but the start of his new one; a better one.  I know that you might raise your eyebrows at this but the truth is that the pain and heartache and missing him will always be here with me and yes, I cry sometimes because I miss him so much.  But, I try and focus on how I’m living my life.  I want to be like him.  I know he’s on his way to heaven, if he isn’t there already and I want to meet him there.  (As a Catholic, we believe that before heaven, one goes through purgatory.  Think of it as a shower.  While you live life, sin makes your soul dirty and so, before you get to heaven, you go through a cleansing or “shower” of sorts so that you’re squeaky clean when you arrive at those pearly gates.  Yes, there are people who go straight to heaven; I doubt I’ll be one of them.)  I want him to be one of the first I see.  I want to move on from the suffering and pain in this life to one where suffering and pain don’t exist…forever!  Thinking about that and focusing on walking the narrow way keeps sorrow far from me and hope right in front of me.  :) 

If you have a minute, please say a prayer for my family, the soul of my father, all souls, and for all those who have suffered and are suffering.  There’s a joy to be had in sorrow and a hope to be found and I pray that all find it. 

Here’s the song I was talking about at the beginning of this post.  I hope you are as touched by it as I am.  It’s “When a Heart Breaks” by Ben Rector.

[I know in his song Ben says "and you don't need Jesus, 'til you're here" and I'm not sure what his thoughts are with those lyrics but we always need Jesus.  It's in the hard times however, that we need Him most.]

A fond memory:

We lived on a farm and so, obviously, my dad smelled like crap every time he came in from work.  He’d always try and rub his “aroma” off on me with hugs and I always told him to stop because, obviously, that ain’t no “aroma”.  Being the wise-crack that he was, he gifted me a snazzy nose plug for my 18th birthday…
photo 1 (4)

…so that my excuses were zero.
photo 2 (4)

.           .           .

Miss you daddy!

Potty Training: Day Tres

Oh boy.  We are done.  Done for now.  Pardon the time lapse between this post and that of Day Two, we were busy recovering/cleaning/cleaning/sanitizing/recovering.  Since the twins have graced our lives, we’ve never had a more rough few days than the three days we tried potty training them.  Tried and failed.  Yep, we’re back to diapers.

photo 4 

Anthony had three and half days off of work so we expected to use all that time training and we did, but now those days are over without the results we were hoping for and he’s back to work today which leaves me and the three tots alone and heck if I’m going to nurse a babe, cook, mother, and clean up potty all the day alone.  Not.Happening. 

It feels a little like we wasted three days and I’m really, really bummed that the girls didn’t train like we had hoped and thought.  However, we learned a lot and I think we definitely planted a few seeds about using the pot.  I’ve mentioned this before, but we purchased and followed the ebook, 3 Day Potty Training by Lora Jensen.  I read the book a few times before we started, made notes, and relayed everything to Anthony.  During the three days we trained we followed Lora’s instructions to a T.  We used positive reinforcement and no matter how many times we wanted to slam our fists through a wall, we flashed smiles and encouragement to the girls at all times.  They didn’t see an ounce of negativity in three days.  We followed them around everywhere, we told them to let us know when they needed to go, we caught 98% of their accidents and ran them to the toilet during those accidents (that one left a nice picture in your mind, didn’t it?)  It was misery for all but no one ever said potty training was fun, right?

photo 3

Poor Sebastian was neglected (the number one reason why we should’ve gotten another person on board to help) and spent the majority of the last three days in his swing.  Besides the emotional stress of trying your darndest to nicely teach your kids that excrement belongs in the toilet, the stress of knowing that I couldn’t cuddle our three month old killed me.  I missed him so much. 

Potty training brought out the worst in me.  I’m a pretty positive person but when I wasn’t within a five foot radius of both twins at all times (a must with the three day method), so during naptimes, I was exhausted and perched next to their bedroom door while they slept listening for any signs that one needed to ‘go’ and browsing Instagram where I wanted to comment “you suck”, “you suck”, “you suck”, “you suck” on all my followee’s pictures because everyone was happily living life and I was stuck cleaning up gallons of pee (and that is probably more literal than figurative). 

Anyway, it’s over.  Life is back to normal and I love all my Instagram friends again so I’ll not focus on the misery but on what we took away from the crappy experience (more figurative than literal thank God).

photo 1 (1)
[I know you’re dying to see pictures of my kids in their skivvies, so I’ll just keep on postin’.]

The girls can be potty trained.  It is possible at their age – 22 months.  They learned how to hold it.  They know how to control it.  The first day was spent cleaning up accidents because they’d just release not knowing what they hay was happening.  Day two was different.  We pumped them full of liquid that they gladly drank but they became afraid of having accidents so they held it until they couldn’t hold it anymore.  They learned to tell us when they had to go – they’d run to us and get all panicky and want to be held.  But, here’s the kicker, every time we set them on the toilet they’d throw a FIT.  Seraphia actually did pretty well on the morning of day two until she observed Cecilia throw a fit on the toilet and decided she’d do the same.  It wasn’t that they were afraid of the toilet.  If we set them on it and handed them a book, they’d be perfectly fine and would sit there reading.  For some odd reason, they just didn’t want to release into the dark abyss below.

photo 2 (1) 

In the end, we learned that not every method, not matter how many successes it touts, works for every kid.  Lora says you should never say “no” or “bad” and I agree and disagree.  Seraphia responds pretty well to “no” when we say it upon her doing something we’d like her not to.  She’ll stop and move on.  Saying “no” to her when she goes to the bathroom on the floor would probably resonate well.  Cecilia on the other hand seems to think that the word “no” signals a game.  She’ll give us a wry smile, continue doing whatever it is she’s not supposed to being doing and laugh in our faces.  You can imagine how she’d react then if we told her no peeing on the floor…actually, don’t imagine it because…yuck.  Saying “bad” to either girl however would probably make them think that peeing is bad in general, no matter what or where. 

Anyway, I know that if you haven’t already clicked off that I’m boring you to death talking about human excrement so leave the rest of my thoughts to myself.  Our goal is to have the girls potty-trained within the next few months and so, when success finds its way to us, I’ll let you know how we achieved it.  Until then, it’s back to the 20+ diaper-changes-per-day grindstone which I will gladly take over the nightmare of our first experience with potty training.  :)

If you have any tips or tricks that got your kid from diaper to pot, please leave them in the comment section or email me!!  I’m not going to say that we’re desperate but we just might be…a little bit. 

.           .           .

P.S.  One little tidbit of info I did pick up – I bought size 4 toddler undies for the girls even though they’re barely in size 2T because they were literally half the price and we needed 30 pairs for training.  After washing them and drying them on high heat they shrank a little and, even though they didn’t fit tight, they worked perfectly!