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And we’re off, flying a family of five!

This morning we set off, out of the house at 5:30 AM for our first trip flying as a family of five. We’ve flown a lot with kids. But it seems we’ve had a dry spell since the birth of our third daughter. Maybe the purchase of a minivan had something to do with it – because since then it’s been mostly road trips to justify owning Betty the Bus.

There was our quick trip to California in 2010. It was one of my husband’s business trips that I bootlegged along with baby number three. But the big girls stayed with grandparents in Georgia.

The last time we flew as a family of four we were taking this same trip to Colorado. The first morning we were there I found I was pregnant. I took the positive pee stick in my coat pocket and took pictures on ski slopes with it, and used them to announce to family that another one was coming. In my mind it was not going to stop us from living, from traveling and being on the go.

Since then I’ve become a pro at throwing a few necessities, in a moment’s notice, in each girl’s traveling duffle bags that get tossed in the van for a family five.  Road trips have become easy-peasy stuff. Even with a traveling dog!

But getting everyone’s stuff for a weeks worth of playing the snow, into bags and on an airplane took major logistic planning in my head.

It turned out we checked three suitcases and one bag of snow boots. On the plane each girl had a backpack with a doll, a few simply books and sticker sheets to occupy them on the plane plus their own healthy snacks they had to ration for the day of travels and two, two-hour flights. Ski coats all got worn on the plane. Oh, and they slept in their clothes for today.

And now that we are sitting on the plane – I must say we did quite well for ourselves.

I did my best to pack light. Except for all those doll accessories the girls insisted on bringing. My oldest daughter has been saving her money for nearly two years, waiting for something special to buy. She decided on a set of skis (helmet, goggles, boots and poles included) for her American Girl Doll fit the bill. And my middle girl followed suit with a dog sled. These are no small items!

I have sympathy for them. I still remember the time I packed a bag for my baby doll as a kid when my family was traveling to Michigan. My dad was always trying to save space in the car (which now I DO understand). But he left out my doll in the last minute. So for a week I had a bag full of doll stuff and no doll.

The girls are SUPER excited to play with their cousin (their only immediate cousin) and her doll – who has all the appropriate snow gear. So I was a sucker for the doll accessories, mittens, ice skates and coats.

My brother lives near Aspen, Colorado, about 20 minutes down valley. My sister-in-law is a kids ski instructor at Snowmass Mountain. So yeah, we have the hook up. This is how we are able to swing this trip. They’ve borrowed big cars for us from their friends, car seats and are all ready for us to take storm!

I’m going to try and pop back on the site to say hi sometime during the week. But mostly I’ll be doing a whole lot of playing in the snow with my kids, skiing, being in the moment and trying not to take too many pictures.

Back at the home front there is lots of activity going on at our house – so do not to worry about me announcing the fact that we are not home.

Our extremely well mannered and trusty contractors will be at our house all week rebuilding our garage. They drive big manly trucks. I already mentioned how cute one of them is. And then, on the first day on the job I learned his brother, who runs the business with him, is his twin! It’s like a double mint gum commercial from the 80s with two cute twenty-somethings using power tools.

Soon I’ll tell you some funny stories about how we are NOT DYI folks and my ramblings about our cute contractors will make more sense. My husband has many wonderful qualities, but home improvements is not one of him. He waved the red flag when I had him pulling down wallpaper when I was pregnant with baby number two. He once wore a tool belt backwards and my when we got married my aunt gave me a pink tool box with a poem saying I could always call my dad.

In addition to those happenings on the home front with my double mint contractors using power tools, our pet sitters are there to care for our furry family.

So The Brown House is in good hands.

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Renovations update, an old radiator and a vintage baby buggy up for grabs

This morning the rotted side of our garage was torn down and put in a dumpster by the time I got up, got breakfast and went to the store. Poof, just like that! For a before picture click here.IMG_0069

I’m hoping someone will do a drive by looking for scrap metal and pick up that radiator (show in the picture up top) that was living in our garage. We’re in the process of taking them out of our house. We used the old lovely beasts, with the broiler we named Bruce, the first winter we moved in before we got central heat and air installed. I loved the old romantic idea of them and the dehumidifier affect the steam heat set off into the whole house. However the boiler worked at 67 percent capacity, the house heated unevenly (one room would feel like the beach and the next like the mountains) and we were getting $800 utility bills to heat this old house.

SO, that’s why there is a radiator living on our curb, hopeing for some soul to come by and recycle it before the trashman comes and takes it to a landfill. I am hopeful. It has happened before.

The other thing I’m hoping to find a home for is this awesome, vintage baby buggy. I have a thing for old, rare stuff. It seems this neighborhood friend of mine whose mom used to push him and his three siblings around in this buggy on the streets of New York City some 50 years ago – knows it too. He didn’t want it in his garage anymore so it got moved to mine, with me hoping to find it a perfect home of someone else who loves old rare stuff.

So – anyone out there love things like this? I’ve seen refurbished ones on Ebay go for up to $500. And it’s really in good shape. Email me if you want to come get it and it’s all yours for the price of free, and promising to be nice it.

Now I’m off to dreaming about a new period correct kitchen and ways to honor what we have. And save money by keeping things like our original hardwood floors while staying warm in a house that has original wavy, single pane glass windows. I know – they are not energy efficient – but I have a theory that it’s better to use what I’ve got versus buying plastic windows manufactured in China that uses who knows how much petroleum to get from there to Tennessee. So yeah, I’ll keep my old windows. I’m also thinking about what color to paint the wood trim on the windows when it comes time to paint the house, next month I hope.

And that is really, really fun!

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Weaning and snuggles. Are we REALLY doing this?

The past few weeks my toddler has become really aggressive at me wanting to nurse. Demanding it, and then while she nurses she’s been kicking me if I do anything other than give her my full 100 percent attention – meaning no multitasking checking emails or writing blogs. Given these events, nursing has not been one of my favorite things to do lately.

This is a first for me and it could be a sign of a few things. Could I be done nursing? Are these days finally coming to a close? Am I ready for that? Perhaps. Maybe. I’m not sure yet.

I have always loved nursing and cherished this relationship with my girls. Without giving it much thought, I weaned both of my big girls quite effortlessly while I was pregnant with the next one in the pipeline. So I confess, since I’m NOT pregnant, I have no idea how to wean a toddler. Not that I’m completely ready to do so, but the way things were working (or not working) with our nursing relationship was too one sided. I was feeling used. I wanted her to come to me for a simple hug and that was it.

And then, just when something at night had to give and I needed a little more wiggle room minus a 27 pound body lapped across my chest and head – I got the flu. And for two nights she slept with her dad. And you know what? She was just FINE with it. I was shocked. And relieved and I loved the idea of the two of them sharing snuggles all night long.

I’ve been saying no lots more often to her big blue-eyed requests that she posses with a simple, “Milk-eee?” She has been taking car naps as a weaning tactic for nursing to sleep because it’s not really working anymore and she doesn’t go to sleep. So all in all, I’ve gotten her down to nursing just once (maybe twice) a day. This means we have to stay very busy and I can’t sit down for anything or else she sees it as an invitation to my buffet.

Monday I had to get some work done and she was at home with me, with no sisters to entertain her. It was so hard to keep telling her no to the milkies and no to me entertaining her. I’m a big believer that kids need to learn how to play by themselves, as I wrote in the post Confession: I don’t play with my kids and why it’s not such a bag thing. She cried. She got mad. And she eventually gave up to go happily play babies and trains – with the dog. Seriously, she l-o-v-e-s our dog Lulu!

So for those of you trying to wean a toddler, or just reading this wondering about my marathon seven years of nursing – I’m here to tell you that distractions, be it an illness, a dog or taking a little drive – is what is getting us through these days of me feeling like putting my foot down and blurting out, “Enough of the milkies!”

But just when I was feeling really awful and frustrated about telling her no to her beloved “milkies.” And I was wondering if all this no business was going to play out for the best or if it would land her in counseling one day. Today I began to notice that she was reaching out to me for just plain snuggles, the sweet old fashion kind with no strings attached or requests for bigger motives. Tonight as we walked home from a friend’s house she just put her head on my shoulder and wouldn’t stop snuggling. She read nighttime books with her sisters and when it was time for her to go to bed I lied her down, covered her with her “favorite blanket” and snuggled (just snuggled!) for the five minutes it took her to peacefully drift off to sleep.

Are we really doing this? Are we really weaning?

I know from experience that one day you just wake up and realize your little one hasn’t nursed in a few days. With my other two, neither one of them weaning was marked with any great fanfare. It just happened as my milk dried up in my pregnant body.

That means any day now, any week now, I could nurse a baby/toddler for the last time ever and not even know that it was the last time until some more time passes and I realize my seven years of nursing days are gone. My stacks of nursing tank tops and bras that I’ve accumulated might still be there, but will the milkies?

No I’m not sure I’m ready for that. But having a little bit of a break sure has been nice.

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Exciting Renovations starting at our Brown House

Since moving into our 1918 craftsman house six years ago, it’s been lovingly referred to as The Brown House. My oldest daughter named it that when she was two and it stuck. My old blog before this was called the Brown House News.

Well, The Brown House is about to start undergoing some much needed renovations and repairs. And since we have a green LEED certified contractor who rocks and truly understands my neurotic desires to stay true to the historic correctness of our house – I’ve decided I should chronicle the happenings and choices made here while we go about the process.

We are starting with the garage, replacing rotting wood trim around the house, a new roof and paint. Demolition, of sorts, on the garage starts tomorrow!

One side of the garage is caving in from rot and wood decay. This is why I’m getting a new garage before a new kitchen. I’m still waiting patiently for that one. And according to the contractor’s drawings of the cabinets he is personally going to build (that use sustainably harvested woods free of chemicals, wood glues and formaldehyde compounds) to match the existing built-ins original to the house – I think it will be worth the wait!

The garage work beings tomorrows. Dumpsters, BIG dumpsters are in place. There are two of them because the existing roof on the garage is made of asbestos and we are are choosing to go the extra mile of making sure it gets disposed of properly by Waste Management opposed to being taking to the dump and seeping into the earth. We must some good Samaritan points for that on our carbon foot print!

The garage space is too small to hold a car of today’s standards, at least ours that holds our big family and our big car seats that go inside it. So the garage is being made into storage spaces for all our bikes, skates, scooters, outdoor play things and yard equipment. Right now there are no doors and we just pile it it all in for all to see, hopping nothing looks too appealing for the takers. Meanwhile the more appealing things have to be wheeled around to the basement every time someone wants to go for a nice bike ride. As a result, bike rides don’t happen all that often! So this is very exciting.

In the plans are carriage doors for the garage. After seeing this on Pintererst I got my heart set on oak.

This is what ours looks like now – not so pretty!

Today our ontractor brought over drawings of doors he is going to make for the space. And, he’s such a nice guy, it just so happens he has some local oak wood he harvested himself from nearby Lenior City that has been drying at his outdoor drying rack at his workshop. And, it’s ready to use. And, he’s going to build them for the same price as a lower grade of wood that would have been painted.

So YEAH, we are going to have locally harvested, locally hand built carriage doors very much like my dream picture.

I think this renovation business is going to be really, really fun.

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The “You have your hands full” comment serves as a lesson in mindfulness

My friend Jennifer from Playgroups are No Place for Children wrote a post over at Babble last week about the comment “You have your hands full.”  Although she doesn’t like the comment, she’s a very sweet mama and gives everyone the benefit of the doubt. She even admits being the one to say it. Which I have done myself by accident too. It is easy to blurt out when you see a mom with, well, her hands full!

But for me, usually it’s about more than my hands being full. It’s about reaching my wits end in public while I less than gracefully hold it, and my kids, all together. All this got me thinking about the time I wrote about this on my previous blog the Brown House News. Since my readership has grown a lot since then (yeah) and that space is no longer public – I want to share my thoughts on the topic here.

What do you think? Are you offended when people tell you, “You have your hands full.” Or does it not bother you at all?

When leaving a comment for Jennifer on Facebook about her post I realized precisely why the “you have your hands full” comment makes me cringe. It’s not that I think the person saying it is being mean or awful or anything other than trying to sympathize with me. It gets my blood boiling because it’s always said in a moment that I could have prevented and done a better job of controlling my choices and the situations I put my children in.

Was going down that isle one more time to try and find that thing I couldn’t find to begin with really that important? Probably not.

Still thinking about it five days after Jennifer wrote that post, I pulled up my post from the Brown House News that I wrote in June of last year. It reiterated the above point to myself. No I didn’t need those things. My kids needed me more. They needed to get out of the store! So that day I probably deserved that “You have your hands full” comment. I didn’t see the lesson in it then. But I’m glad I do now.

For me, being told I have my hands full means I need to put down all the stuff, the mental and physical stuff. The to do lists, the to buy lists, the I have an idea lists, and to be more mindful from the start. And sometimes that means not stepping foot in the store to begin with.

Here’s how that day went over at the Brown House News in June of last year, copied from an old post.

Excuse me for venting, but I can’t stand when people see me with all three of my girls and say, “You have your hands full.” It’s always in a sweet tone and possibly with with the intent of showing some empathy as I juggle life, sometimes putting every finger to use. Coffee in one hand, keys on my pinky finger, purse holding the dirty diaper, hand holding a toddler through the parking lot, one hand on the buggy – and yes I did grow an extra arm!

But really, this comment always comes – in my mind – when I am not having my finest parenting moments. Like today after I had spent too long in Target with the girls, perusing for the perfect rug and lamps for our newly changed up children’s living area.

The girls had already used the display furniture as a jungle gym as my toddler rolled off a sofa and into the isle while a woman stood watching the disaster unfold. This resulted in us sitting down for a nursing break, right in the bean bag isle. Which resulted in my middle girl having a melt down because I wouldn’t buy her a bean bag.

As we finally made our way to the check out isle I noticed my toddler girl had fallen asleep sitting on my hip, with her head bobbing. My middle girl was dragging, whining about me saying no to the pink bean bag, to the turquoise shag rug and then the popcorn. I was the big NO monster. My oldest girl tried to explain that is not how we get what we want – sounding just like me.

So here I was, pulling the buggy from the front with a big awkward rug sticking out of it, my big girl walking next to it, a sleeping toddler on my shoulder, my middle girl whining in the rear and all of us barely getting one foot in front of the other.

And then – here it comes, walking towards me, “You have your hands full.” I could have strangled the lady! I nodded, “Yep,” and kept wheeling along, knowing the Starbucks after the checkout isle was going to save me.

Yes some days my hands are very full. But honestly, I wouldn’t know what to do with them other wise.

So how do you feel about all this? How do you see it when you get the “You have your hands full” comment?

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Quick heart rings with pipe cleaners and buttons

The valentine crafts have been sitting out in our dinning room, free for the creative takers when the mood strikes them with love. Lately we’ve been struck with heart rings. They’ve been happening before breakfast, after school and a little here and there in between my daughters watching YouTube videos on arranging rooms for their dolls. Oh my! And yes, it all happens in the dinning room which is otherwise known as Grand Central Station.

In the current craft stash are some heart shaped buttons – wood and felt. Along with some beads –  glass plus plastic ones leftover from our candy cane ornament craft from Christmas. (And wow what a hit that was with you guys!) Throw in some pipe cleaners and you get heart rings in the making.

It does require a bit of adult help to cut the pipe cleaners and get them shaped for little fingers to make sure no poky parts of the pipe cleaners are sticking out. I found the best way to ensure that is to have the ends of the pipe cleaners both meet at the base of the hearts on the ring and then twist the ring portion of the pipe cleaner to goes on your finger. This can also serve as a way to adjust the ring size. You with me? Just play around and you’ll see. It’s not too tricky and it doesn’t have to be perfect – that’s the fun of it.

I highly encourage leaving art supplies out and around in your house for you kids to access easily. My girls often stumble upon some inspiration when they think they are so board they will surely die. Then I look over and their is magic in the making, with crafts and instant happy moods.

Here is a sampling, in addition to the wooden heart rings up top, that we’ve been making. And hey, you’ll notice  – bracelets can be fun too!

 

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Easy, cheap, heart necklaces made from clay

Using a two dollar, two ounce block of Sculpey oven bake clay, we made these heart necklaces painted with acrylic paint. They were great fun, super easy, and will make fun gifts for my girls to give their friends for Valentine’s Day.

Here’s how we did it.

First I helped the girls roll the clay out flat, on a table using child-size rolling pins. Next we used small heart shaped cookie cutters to make the hearts and the kids placed them onto a cookie sheet. I used a wooden skewer to poke a hole in the top of them to make the necklaces. My five-year-old needed help getting this done right. But my oldest daughter could do it all on her own. Make sure you make the hole big enough, through the entire thickness of the clay, to get two layers of string through the hole at one time.

Then bake the clay hearts on 275 for 15 minutes. After they cool you can paint them. We painted ours with Valentine themed colors. We also made round shaped beads for bracelets.

After the paint is dry, you’re ready to make it into a necklace! I doubled over my string and put the loop end through the hole of the heart. I put the two ends through the loop, making a loose slip knot where the two humps on the heart come together for the heart to hang evenly (see picture to know what I mean). Then just tie ends of the string in a simple bow, making the string plenty big enough to fit over a child’s head. And there you have it!

Here are some more pictures from our project.

This one was a bigger size heart so I put two holes in it for it to hang straight. I like this way too!

Happy making!

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With a friend in labor, I’m sharing my birth bracelet

Labor has a place in my heart. I’m not going to say I like labor. But I don’t mind it, even with no pain medications. My third baby did leave me thinking I’ve probably had enough of that labor business – or at least the postpartum hemorrhage that comes after the baby in my case. But the beautiful, sweet anticipation of meeting my baby for the first time, through one long contraction at a time – I’m still okay with that.

All those sweet thoughts are going through my head tonight as my friend is in labor with her first baby. My candle is lit for her, and I’m sending her good birth vibes. Her name is Jessica if you want to do the same. I always light a candle and send thoughts and prayers to the way of a laboring mama. It’s a tradition that was started in our family when the first mom of my generation was in labor for the first time. I carry it along for all my friends.

I also have a tradition of my own that started with my first baby. It’s my birth bracelet. And since I’m feeling all labor-is-so-beautiful tonight, I wanted to share it with you.

The tradition was started for me in our Birthing From Withing birthing class when our teacher, the wonderful Teresa Howard with Labor of Love  Doula and Childbirth Services, hosted a blessingway ceremony as part of our last class.

It was all about honoring the pregnant mother. Teresa passed out a wooden bead to each woman and we chose a birth saying that meant the most to us, for the bead to signify. She placed it on a string and tied it on our wrist. I wore mine all the way through labor with my first child – all 3 hours and 17 minutes of non-medicated pushing sitting in a bathtub! I was determined to have a natural childbirth. And I did.

My saying for that wooden bead was, “Trust in the process.”

I saved that bead. And when I was pregnant with my second daughter I added to the bracelet. I did so peacefully, by myself that time, sitting in front of the fire in my living room. This was my time to start seriously preparing myself mentally for natural child birth. It was 10 days before my due date. After the not-so-welcoming experience into postpartum hemorrhaging the first time, I needed to get myself prepared to take on labor. And to be ready for anything it threw at me. Because I learned the first time it wasn’t all about relaxing in the tub!

This is what I added to my bracelet the second time, which I wore through the birth of my second baby girl. As I added the beads, I wrote the following quotes in my pregnancy journal for each bead.

* I added two white beads that were from a bracelet my great grandmother (on my mother’s side) used to wear, and were given to me by my aunt (a natural mama of four herself). “Women have been birthing forever. I gain strength from that. Strength from within is everything in birth. I am strong, like a warrior. The warrior within me emerges and she know what to do (which is a Birthing From Within birth saying). Our Great Great Great Grandmothers were all warriors.”

* I added two pink beads for my two girls at the time, one still in my womb and one who was barely two years old. “They are for my girls, and the love they show me everyday, and for the future. Birth is for today but our babies are forever.”

*I added two brown and white glass swirly beads that are for our current generation. “They are from a blessingway ceremony I helped host for Christy and Melissa, two women in our family. It represents us keeping the process going, educating others, empowering others to birth naturally and confidently.”

Below that I wrote, “Inhale peace, exhale tension. Breath and just be. Put all fear aside and birth. Do nothing else. Let the process happen.”

It was a successful birth and after that I considered myself an old pro at this birthing thing. But still, I tucked away that bracelet for another time. That time came nearly three years later as I once again prepared myself for labor. I did so again at home, with my same blue pregnancy journal that was started in 2004, sitting in front of the same fireplace from 2006.

This time I found myself needing less of the mantras and power boosters to tell myself I could do it, that I could get through natural childbirth. I knew I could do it. By then I had been on the board at the Lisa Ross and Birth and Women’s Center over two years and I was preaching to the choir about how great midwives are.

But still, I had to have my bracelet. It was part of my mental preparations for labor. And no mater how many times you give birth, you still have to prepare yourself mentally. This time the beads became all about my family. Most of them were leftover from a blessingway ceremony I hosted at my house for a whole gaggle of pregnant women in my neighborhood (seven of us actually).

This is what I wrote in my pregnancy journal as I added to my bracelet.

*I added a pink and white swirly glass bead for my third baby girl. “And two purple ones because I think purple will be your color.” I was right – she loves purple!

*I added to blue beads for our blue-eyed family and my husband and I’s love. “Our blue eyes, the both of us, is where it all started.”

*I added a black bead with blue and pink specks for the love and support my husband gives me. “He is the best Daddy ever!”

*I added a yellow and orange leafed glass bead to represent my dad. “The other best Daddy ever!”

*I added silver spacers that were beads from a prayer bracelet my mom had given me while I was pregnant with my second baby. “”She is always there with all her prayers.”

*I added two green beads that reminded me of the nature of birth. “The green square beads also remind me of the square vigor for life my middle child holds. The pretty pale pink beads still hold the sweetness of my first born.”

At the end of those thoughts I summed up my experience of having a third child with this.

“We are a settled family now and my husband and my girls mean the world to me me. This birth is not about me getting through it like all the women and grandmothers before us. It’s about our family, finding peace with where we are, looking ahead and using the wisdom of our lessons in life not to birth – but to raise loving, sweet, good natured, balanced girls. It all starts with birth. We are ready to embrace this baby, love her, and welcome her into our family.”

And today, after reading all this for the first time since my third baby girl was born, I have to say it could not be any more true.

And gosh darnet, here I was thinking I’m done with all this baby business. But it does make having another one seem like a whole lot of fun!

Fun for another day, perhaps!

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My KNS story on the Children’s Theatre of Knoxville

I have a story in the Sunday paper of the Knoxville News Sentinel on the Children’s Theatre of Knoxville. It’s called Never-ending Families and it features three sets of siblings and one father/daughter pair in the theater’s current show The Neverending Story. Even if you are not local check it out. Because the theater, for a little community theater, really rocks.

I know I’m not supposed to say that seeing I’m the journalist who wrote the story. But back in my day, in Atlanta, many moons ago when I was still in and recently out of college, I wrote arts and theater reviews for an alternative weekly called Atlanta Press  (it was later bought out by Creative Loafing). In college I minored in theater and spent a semester doing a work study class putting in about 100 free hours as a dramaturge for a production of Lizzy Borden. After college I moved on to doing more freelance magazine work and less reviews, and I took up 7 Stages theater as a PR client and worked as their publicist for nearly two years.

I’m not trying to impress you. I’m just saying, I’ve been around the block (the Atlanta block) a little bit when it comes to theater. And I want to say, for using the very minimal resources that the little old Children’s Theatre of Knoxville has, they produce a lot of talent. And my kids have never seen a show they didn’t like!

So please do me a favor, click over and read it. And if you are local, it’s not to late to see the show.

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And…We got the flu.

I knew when I wrote my long and detailed post, 5 Reasons I will not get a flu shot, that we would end up getting the flu. Just because that would be my luck. And I was right. That’s where I’ve been all week long. Cuddled up with my kids (cat included) reading books, watching too much PBS Kids, and getting some rare afternoon sleep for myself.

My oldest daughter is prone to getting Strep Throat. So when her temperature spiked to 104 Saturday night (it went down to 101 with ibuprofen) we took her in to a clinic Sunday afternoon. That’s when she tested positive for Type A Flu. My toddler’s diagnosis came on Monday at the pediatrician’s office and by that afternoon I was sure it was hitting me too.

Luckly I had nothing major planned for the week. So you know, it was kind of nice to just shut down, declare it a week to be sick and that was it. I’ve checked emails on my phone but I’ve barely been at my computer all week.

When I was at my worst misery, I did start to contemplate if I wished I would have gotten the flu shot. My kids were bouncing back decent enough, with the help of Tamiflu. And by today, Thursday, I will report I’m feeling pretty good. I made it out to the grocery store, to get some lunch and to the vet’s office.

If I had to do it all over again, I would have done the same thing – no flu shot. I know that decision is not for everyone. But it’s a nice feeling regardless of the decision, to know in aftermath that you are happy with what you chose.

Factoring into that, is that I am lucky to be in the situation where my wonderful sweet husband was willing, and in a job where he was able, to come home early on three of those days to help with the kids. One day was so I could take my toddler to the doctor without bringing the others along and subjecting them to more illness in the waiting room. The other two was so I could get some much needed sleep.

I mean, when else does a mom of three kids get to go to bed at 3:00 in the afternoon with no anticipated interuptions of little feet needing something or wanting to report who took what from whom – all night long!  Fever and misery included, that was kind of okay with me.

Coming out of it, I feel more well rested than I have in years. (Mind you the last eight years I’ve either been sleeping with nursing babies/toddlers or I’ve been pregnant.) I had gotten in a rut of staying up really late – sometimes 3 am or later – writing and just plain enjoying the only time my house is that quiet.

Sometimes we need to listen to our bodies. And the flu was just what I needed to knock me on my butt, slow me down and make me trade in my coffee in for a cup of chamomile tea.

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