a progress report: one week in

bada bing ...

welllll, well, well.

Phoebe like, "take me back to the uterus. now."

I have all these deep and introspective things (nipple cream! why 4 kids is easier than 2 kids! yoga pants are my life blood! why aren't nipple shields the color of neon and flashing lights because clear blends into every surface under the sun!) to blog about but just as soon as I sit down to do so ... someone cries. And it's usually not me. So we'll see how far I get today. Simon says that for the next several months I just need to make peace with the fact that my posts will have to be shorter and he's right. So ... brevity! Not my strongest suit ... but broadening horizons and all those beautiful pointe shoes.

"look at her little face! it's so cute ... sometimes."

Anyway, vámonos.
(or is it vámos?)

the good
there's a lot of good! A surprising amount.
+ Phoebe sleeps a lot at night. I don't want to type, "she's sleeping through the night" because that is the kiss of death for night sleeping children but she's an incredible night sleeper and I know it's temporary but God bless some quality sleep.
(I told you! she heard me type-bragging about her and is now squawking but I'm going to try the nurse + type maneuver ... because I love this craft)
+ I know it's all in my doting mother head but Phoebe seems to have the sweetest disposition. Unless she's hungry - which is often. But those few minutes a day that she's awake and content and wrestling with the air ... she seems like she'll be a nice little girl.
+ Theo! I fully expected him to throw a month long temper tantrum about being dethroned because the child has needs and expectations. But, so far ... so wrong.

"Theo, go watch Pheobe and tell me if she blinks. Otherwise ... just sit. And stay."

Or don't.

He's content to walk around the house in search of innocuous mischief while bouncing back to check on Phoebe and then off he stumbles ... repeat. Small mercies. Except this one is huge.
+ the big kids. They've also been great. Julia didn't cry this morning when I dropped her off at preschool which was such a breath of happy air after the past several weeks of morning sob operas. So my silent but almost deadly morning long anxiety attack about getting all four kids in the car and to preschool drop-off without any major hiccups was all for nothing. Sebastian is mostly gentle with Phoebe and can be entertained by a mashup of fire truck clips on YouTube if I'm feeling super desperate (which I am! quite a bit!).

and the way to Julia's heart is through a good Easter candy bribe. and Grace is not above it.

the bad
+ Phoebe makes up for her spectacular night sleeping by nursing the majority of the day. It's fine - well, no it's not but it has to be for now. Sebastian was the same way and I know it's temporary but I wish I had a (showered, dressed, and less puffy faced) clone. The big kids know I'm helpless on the couch and definitely take advantage of my figurative absence by fighting to their heart's content in another room which takes my nerves straight through a grater but ... I'm sure it could be worse. I think.
+ I guess that's it but ... 3rd and 4th arms! I need you!!

the funny
+ Sebastian calls Phoebe, "Fifi" (like fee-fee) and I think he genuinly thinks that's her name. close enough.
+ I tried to hop in the shower for a super quick rinse off on three separate occasions this morning but Fifi's two hour long breakfast just was not having it. Finally Julia walked over, tore off her shirt and asked if she could, "give a feed a try."
+ Phoebe trying to nurse Simon's shirt. Julia did the same thing and it never ceases to make me cackle.

the ugly (or the pretty, whatever)
+ getting dressed. I tried this morning but there is nothing worse than this in-betwixt-all-the-sizes-in-your-closet-of-many-sizes period. I actually heard my pants zipper laugh a hearty laugh as I stuffed them back in my "don't even try, Grace" dresser drawer. Lycra bootcuts (aka yoga pants, aka fifth child, aka second husband aka bff+e) 4 life, baby. Or at least the next few weeks until I garner enough stupid to try again. Yes, yes, yes - the life giving body is a beautiful thing. I agree. I'm just grasping for a little semblance of normal here but I know everything takes time. Even truth telling hips.

I want to drone on. And on. And on. But I have 4 kids napping and have to see about some some postpartum pants (because how awesome does Blythe look in dem jeans? very, the answer is very awesome). No shame in my copycatting game: verbatim style around here.

Thanks for your patience as I try to find my footing in all life arenas these next several weeks. I always look back when the kids are a few months old and wish I'd been easier on myself and not in any harried hurry to get back to normal normal the first six/eight/ten/more weeks postpartum so I'm trying to do just that this time around. I am being super shameless about upping my Instagram posts because they're easy and that is my second favorite sharing genre to blogging.

x from me and o from Phoebe.

like so.

... badaboom.

picnic in the park

Before we get too deep into life with a new baby aka normalus interruptus ... I want to jot this afternoon down because it was a good one. Not that any of my posts are extra exciting but this one might be thrown in the super unexciting category but I know I'll be happy I typed it in stone to look back on in the near and distant future. 

After Simon and the kids picked me and Phoebe up from the hospital on Friday we grabbed some cafeteria fare and headed to a park down the street from the hospital for a little picnic and recreation.

BUT not before Simon and I split up at the hospital - he took the boys to grab the food and I had Phoebe and a mountain of newborn diapers in my lap with Julia by my side holding my hand.  I was wheeled down to the lobby (complete with lengthy detour via the entire fifth floor ... down from my former residence .... the sixth floor) by a very kind gentleman volunteer that had one walking speed: sloth. He ran over Julia's sandaled feet multiple times and stopped for multiple breathers. The whole thing was just as stressful as it was comical with Julia giving me wide, "wtf" eyes and clutching my hand even tighter than her usual deathgrip while I prayed that Phoebe would keep it together and my diaper pile wouldn't spill and set us back two years.

Even Phoebe mustered a brow furrow and hung on for dear, sweet life.

Anyway. Glad everyone survived.

Onward.

The park and the picnic. I hate to wax too sappy and happy but Simon starts his crazytown hours again tomorrow and then is back to pounding the interview trail pavement at the end of the week. The horror. Things will be back to their regular volume of: loud complaints .... SOON enough.

Should I openly admit that Theo's favorite food in the whole wide world is Sun Chips? Probably not. But now you know.

The weather was perfect and the kids didn't fight (a full fledged miracle these days .... Julia and Sebastian fight about e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g lately ... ) and Theo was the happiest little clam

wearing Sebastian's shorts. But you'd never guess.

he still hyperventilates and waves both hands violently whenever he approaches the new addition. I'm sure the new will wear off soon but for now ... it's endearing as bleep.

Ladies man.

and Phoebe slept the entire time and the cafeteria was selling genuine Chick-fil-a so basically it was just a little utopian afternoon for the Pattons.

Mostly.

Sebastian walking the diaper changing plank while Theo dodges that bullet with a squat and a cackle.

And then we came home and I was so super optimistic about the ease of outings with a bebe and forced everyone to pile in the van to go get some frozen yogurt later that night right as we reallllly should've been getting everyone to bed. Laugh laugh laugh laugh. Of course all of the meltdowns (mine included) collided at once and we ended up speeding through the Wendy's drive-thru for Frosties galore before came home, sugared up, and tossed the crazies into bed.

And since we've been home the reality of la vida postpartum has set in somewhat harshly. I'm lucky to not have to deal with crazy difficult recovery periods but I do (always!!) have quite the battle with the b for breastfeeding situation. After watching his mom try not to pass out from the pain Sebastian matter-of-factly stated, "oh, baby Phoebe bite you and it hurts."

Well, yes. Basically, Bash.

But I'm glad we'll always have this batch of cellular phone photos to remember our first wild and kRaZeE adventure as a family of six.

And there is a very good reason there are no photos of Grace ... I was sure to flail my hospital bracelets at anyone that cast a glance in my swollen + yoga pantsed direction. I love love love newborns but they have an impressive knack for leaving this mom looking like she's been hit by a truck. A garbage truck. But I'll always forgive them. Of course.

happy heart emojis abounding.

Meet the Phoebe

If you've donated any of your life's precious time to reading even one paragraph of this here blog you'll know that I don't specialize in glass-half-fulling it. Ever. So please no (hmm I just stared at that "no" for a looooooong time before realizing I really meant now ... j/k know) .. ahem so please know that for me to say the meet and greet actually went surprisingly swimmingly ... means that it went REALLY well in Patton land.

Tickle me shocked.

complete with high pitched, "it's SO cute!!" and all. 

Simon and I were a little bit burned when the older two met Theo. Our high hopes for harmony were dashed and Simon left a little bit frazzled (... down the elevator with the double jogger and two tantrum happy toddlers into the parking garage to realize .... NO KEYS ... not that we're holding onto that precious memory or anything) so we set our expectations super low for the introduction to baby #4.

Which was dumb. Theo was the happiest little Phoebe excavator and didn't have a single cold shoulder to toss my way. Julia wanted to make sure that when I return home I'll be bringing Phoebe with me and Sebastian wants to hold her in .3 second increments ... and I'll take it. I'll take it all.

someone give that baby's parents a swaddling lesson ... because "roll of paper towels" does not a comfy looking baby make.

I know this is grainy and gross but ... it's not your blog. I'm throwing it up.

And other happs to note:
+ the kids thought her belly button cord clip was a piece of Easter candy and wondered when they could eat it ...
+ Julia had a lot of questions about the second baby in my "still pretty huge" tummy
+ Sebastian assumes any and all hospital staff that enter the room is a doctor and addresses them as such.
+ Simon is a saint for taking such great care of the kids. There should be an entire section of greeting cards bigger than the birthday section solely dedicated to dads that take over for moms for an extended period of time. It's not easy and I know that. He even wore pink for the first visit in honor of "it's a girl" and gush gush ... he's the best of all the rest. 
+ Here's a video of the kids meeting Phoebe. Sort of. The phone's memory ran out -- so it's cut pretty short.

BUT!! Lest you think that rainbows and unicorns are running rampant in my recovery room for all to covet and envy ...

this scary haircrow knows the fun has just begun.

But let me enjoy the babymoon in all its glory before I head home in the morning.

And so many thank yous to all of you for all of your sweet comments and well wishes. Simon said, "I'm floored by the social media engagement Phoebe has brought in ..." and so am I. You are all far too kind. Much love to you and yours. And that's not the Percocet talking. I swear't. 

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

ps! It never occurred to me that Anika might be tough to decipher pronunciation until some people asked. Oops. I know, dumb Grace strikes again. It's just like Monica ... but no M. On-ick-uh. I hope that makes sense. If not ... maybe I'll record a Sebastian pronunciation to clear up any lingering confusion. 

well, well, well ... what have we here?

It's a little lady!!

She's here and she's healthy and she's {mostly} happy.
God is so good. 
And unless Simon and I are terrible parents with terrible memories ... she weighs the exact same amount that Julia did when she was born and as far as I can tell they seem to share similar temperaments as well.

The labor and delivery were an odyssey that I hope I'm up to typing about one day soon. Okay, that sounds dramatic and maybe I should type on more than five minutes of sleep. Let's just say she was even more stubborn than Theo was about making her way out into the big bad world.

ANYWAY.
We are overjoyed ...

oh, requited love. I see it in her eyes.

My favorite favorite photos of Simon are the ones of him holding our brand new babies ...

Show me a happier human. Just try.

Okay, fine!!!! One more ...

And please accept my apology in advance for the glut of baby, baby, baby posts in the coming days. Things will eventually get back to serious business as usual one day very soon.

But! Up next ... Phoebe meets her siblings. Bait those eyeballs. It's bound to be fascinating for ... the grandparents. And the masses, I'm sure.

real quick like ...

some recycled recents
1. Theo is finally walking like a pro
2. My new very favorite necklace and some devil eggs.
3. Instead of making meals to freeze I just keep buying pretty vegetation for the table. Same thing, I think.

And some links about some things ...

Have you happened on any fresh new blog blood worth obsessing over recently? Do tell. PLEASE.

This is my new personal favorite because you know those blogs you read and think you could maybe be instant friends of the best variety? That's why. I read all of her archives the other night while Simon was interviewing in Minnesota. Don't tell her. Fine, you can ... because I already emailed her and spilled the kidneys myself. Because I'm a creep. And the grammage ... if you want some mo.

Not to beat a dead Mr. Ed but I can't sing Paula's Choice products praises any louder than I already do. They've all but completely erased my (super stubborn) acne scars. Anyway, their earth sourced line is 40% off today.

I waltzed myself into Forever XXI the other day and am kicking myself (or trying - unsuccessfully) for not getting this top. I'm a sucker for a trend that's (undoubtedly) going to be retired in a few minutes.

Stuck in a blog post writing rut? Dani has some great ideas right over here.

And thank you thank you so much for all of your birth story novelitas on yesterday's post. Simon and I got a huge kick out of all of them ... some of you should take up speed birthing as a fun little hobby. Like whoa.

And now I'm off to thoroughly walk the hills of the hood. Again.
And then again, if I must.

let's get ready to limbo.

Holler.
How was your Easter?
Great. That's great.

Judging by Instagram and Facebook .. it looks like everyone (hopefully) enjoyed a nice day in the weather department and a floral day in the clothing department and a sugary day in the food department. Recipes for success, I say.

We enjoyed an Easter miracle after getting to Mass early, marching up and down the aisles looking for an empty pew that was NOT being saved for 10 people with one purse and one person perched next to said purse (I'm sorry but pew savers ... you're on my list of strong dislikes ... very strong - I actually overheard one of the sinny savers explaining to someone that children couldn't be expected to sit still that long .. hence the hogging .... and I'm just glad we didn't make eye contact in that moment :)) and finally found a free piece of real estate sandwiched between the nicest folks. They said, "we were hoping some kids would sit by us!" and meant it! SAINTS. And the gentleman that had to get up and out multiple times for multiple reason (Julia's bladder, Julia's bladder, Theodore's temper tantrum, and more!) just cracked a smile wider than the one he'd cracked the last time he'd had to get up and out and was so gracious about it all. Thank you, kind sir.

So. Happy Easter!
It was a good one here.

I'm actually sitting/swaying smack dab in the middle of (false!) labor limbo and while I cannot complain because I'm only a little over 38 weeks along and could have 4 weeks to go ... let me just mutter a tiny complaint under my breath. There, I feel better. I've been having contractions ranging from 1-10 minutes apart since Saturday morning. Some feel like they are fueled by the fires of Pitocin and others just pinch enough to make me stop, breath medium heavy, and squint at the wall. But they won't regulate and it be getting old. I'm having some serious PTSD flashbacks to Julia's marathon labor (where I swore she was our first and last child because I was on my deathbed at 2 centimeters). No amount of walking, water, laying on my left side, and all the other tricks will speed them up or slow them down. They have a mind of their own. I had an appointment this morning and my OB said that she's be surprised to see me next week which we all know has now jinxed me into seeing her next week, the week after that, and the week after that .... in the office. I've been able to sleep a few hours both nights thanks to some Ambien and things could be so much worse and in the grand scheme ... Bob Marley and his affinity for the things ... every little one of them ... gonna be all right ... was right. It's all good.

On our fourth walk and 999th contraction on Saturday and Julia is oh-ver it. 
Sorry for the double dose of Pattons I just hate huge vertical photos and small ones too so .... I made it horizontal by way of a flippity flopped collage. And I hate those too. No one wins.

Anyway, I thought a little comment prompt would be fun? Yes? No? Maybe?

Humor me. Please.

I know these answers will vary widely but it's still fun to read and share. Hence .... this blog.

tell me .... "I knew I was in labor when .... "

when what? when your water broke all over the grocery? or the baby popped out on the freeway? what?

I feel like a real elephant with larger than life ears here with baby #4 and feeling so unsure and a little (ah! fine ... a lot) frustrated so I'm turning to my peoples.

And all the culinary clichés about pots that are being watched never boiling and how important it is to let the baby cook until he/she is ready have been taken into consideration. If only I could stop perspiring from my forehead long enough to concentrate hard enough to believe them.

You're the best.
Always.

  

Julia Styles

this post is dedicated to {belated} birthday girl, Jaimie, on behalf of her thoughtful co-worker, Caitlin. And Julia, of course.

hat - Target dollar bin

top - Old Navy

Jegs - thredUP

 sandals - Salt Water via eBay
 

Normally Julia asks for artistic direction when we take pictures and asks questions like, "should I twirl?" but for these she decided to sing the song, "I'm So Beautiful" ... complete with choreographed dance. The words go a little something like this: "I'm so beautiful" ... repeat.

And repeat again. 

So if anyone is in need of a little dose of confidence ... I might know where some can be spared and shared.

One morning when the kids greeted me with their knocks from the inside of their (unlocked) bedroom door ...
Grace: would you guys like some waffles for breakfast?
Julia: oh, you mean awfuls??
Grace: 
Julia: no thank you

The other day ...
Grace: want to sit on my lap?
Julia: well ...
Grace: what?
Julia: I just don't think there's any room on there
Grace:
Julia: You're just a really big mommy with a really big tummy these days 

At the library in the movie section FULL of Dora flicks ...
Julia: wow
Grace: which one would you like to pick?
Julia: you think you've seen it all and then you come here ...

After she got dressed for the day and gave herself an up-down look of approval in the mirror ...
Julia: Hey Bash - if you need to tell me I look cute - that's fine.
Bash: no
Julia: Or gorgeous. That's fine too.

Julia: Hey Theo, want to play catch with me?
Theo: crawls away
Julia: Fine. But you're making the biggest mistake of your life.

After I put Theo in his crib for a nap but before I closed the door ...
Theo: cries
Julia: oh, sweetheart
Theo: cries some more
Julia: well, if you're lonely your clothes will keep you company
Theo: cries some more
Julia: and that's a promise!!

Picking up my tweezers ...
Julia: what are these?
Grace: oh, I use those to pluck my eyebrows so they don't get out of hand
Julia: ohhh, I see I see.
Grace: yeah
Julia: So you don't look like a dragon anymore?

  Exactly.

Julia and Grace's babymoon staycation of fun

Remember when I told you on Thursday that Simon's flight had been canceled from Newark to St. Louis because of "weather" aka construction on the runway aka the airline could not care less? Are you still on the edge of your seat? I knew it.

Well, sit back and relax. After talking to multiple unhelpful agents that informed him there were no flights to St. Louis until Saturday (yes, this is the year 2014 not 1932) he finally secured a late Thursday night flight out to Indianapolis, arrived at midnight, rented a car, and drove home to tuck himself into bed to the tune of 4 in the am.

He popped out of bed three hours later at 7, loaded the boys in the car, and drove the six hours into the wild wild west slash Wichita

Dad/husband of the millennium taking a 30 second sleep walking power nap before he got behind the wheel.

...to drop the men off with his parents before he headed down to Oklahoma City for an interview dinner that night and an interview the next day.

I'm not sure how he managed to form coherent sentences during his multiple views but .... we have different thresholds for terrible so ... I'm sure he did fine.

So that left me and Julia and Simon's (still pretty) car.

the click of the phone camera actually echoed throughout the house .... the house was eerily silent.

Which was crazy.
And nice.

We tore up the greater St. Louis metropolitan area by way of hitting up World Market, Target, Dunkin Donuts, Costco, the library, Mass, and a nail salon. And I discovered that when Julia doesn't have the boys around to talk AT ... she asks a million questions. Per minute ...

Where did Simon buy this car?
What color white is his car?
Do you think this car is as cool as I do, Grace?
(she's been calling us by our first names lately and I'm choosing not to pick that battle ... judge me good)
Is this car big enough for your tummy?
Is this car hurting your tummy?
Are we going to long church or short church?
How many sprinkles does this donut have?
How old was I when I was a baby?
Where did this building come from?
Who built this building?
Would you say this is an ugly building?
What do you want to name the baby?
When are you going to turn nine?
When will Simon and the boys come back?
Do you want to sleep in my bed with me?
Do you think I can watch a show?
Just one episode?
But just ONE episode, maybe?
Is Costco your favorite place ever?

And those queries just got us to the stop sign at the end of our street.

doing it right. matchy match.

Learning the moves to Soulja Boy's Crank That.
{just kidding, just kidding}

 

We ate the others on the way home .... self restraint and all of that.

And meanwhile over in Kansas with the grandparents ...

Sebastian softly sings Radiohead's, "creep" and Chevy be like .... NOPE, won't look.

And, according to Simon, shortly after this photo was taken ...

Sebastian popped a squat on the porch and Frankie (the dog to the right to the right) gobbled it right up. Yes, that kind of squat.

On Saturday night Julia opted to sleep right through her nap and continue on into the night even after my pleading to get up for frozen yogurt .... and there were about five brief minutes where I had this funny feeling that I can only try to describe as ............ boredom?!?!? I decided to bask in the foreign and I quickly got to work painting my nails the color of ... my nails and watched one of my favorite chick flicks. And you better believe that I'm going to tuck that memory away and bring it out to play for a chaotic rainy day in the near or distant future.

Simon and I always say we should take the kids out on individual dates but we only ever get as far as quick trips to the grocery store or to Lowes or someplace exotic like that SO ... it was fun to have crazy J all to myself for a few days. And it was great to go out in public feeling so foot loose and fancy free with almost no stares or comments from the general public. And from what I heard Sebastian was la-la-la-la-loving life outside the shadow of his master.

.

And that was that. 

oh! I did catch Julia doing what she does best one evening. 

{it's 18 seconds long ... you have time to click ... you busy little bee}

 (if you're reading this on Bloglovin' click here)

Performers gonna perform. 

Audience or not.

"I like the way you shirk ...

... your duties, Mom."

Today I made the difficult executive decision to nap instead of blog during the kids naps. Simace was up late doing a little thing they like to call, "rifle through a million important pieces of mail and um .... taxes". I know we're not alone .... diligents unite. And for the first time in my adult life all of a sudden I've developed the bizarre ability to nap and so ... I've been capitalizing like a fiend.

I assumed all the kids were sleeping like the little cherubs that they are until Julia came and woke me up and wanted to talk baby names. Somehow we got on the topic of cookies (weird ... ) and decided to make a batch when I noticed ...

... and when I asked the little Pabla Picassa how the murals came to be she responded,

Julia: oh! this??
Grace: 
Julia: oh, it's a funny sing
Grace:
Julia: welllll, my shadow did it
Grace:

Okay.

lemons/lemonade
sharpie/sugar


and Simon, your fortifying dinner is served ... just as soon as you address the two diapers your heirs have waiting for you at their post in the great outdoors (slash back porch).

 52bfc7b90d37c3bf0a3c6c31f460110a6d612e3234708fc609

37 weeks

skirt: old Nordstrom Rack {similar}
necklace: eBay

shirt: Target

bag: c/o Lily Jade

clogs: c/o Moheda

maternity support tank holding everything in 

(not pictured, you're welcome!!): c/o Blanqi

tuh-tuh-tuh-tuh-TERM, baby. 

Not to be confused with FULL term (just like 20 weeks is not 5 months pregnant, 24 weeks is not six months pregnant, and 32 weeks does not 8 months pregnant make .... hey! we all have our vices and welcome to a few of mine).

Hmmm ... what to wax rambly about today ....

Well, I'm feeling fine! Mostly. I would place a lot of cash on the fact that this will be our biggest baby yet. My mom's fourth child was 10 pounds even (and I'm sure a lot of you can top that but AH ... that scares me a little/a lot - it scares me a lot) and she had had all 7 pounders up until then so ... I'm just preparing for doomsday. Logically, it makes perfect sense. 

Every single stranger that I encounter out in the public sphere that can stop staring at the circus that is the kids + the belly long enough to make a coherent sentence (but seriously! the stares lately .... I guess I don't blame people but I do check to make sure I'm wearing pants with the looks the peoples give) have all voted with great GREAT confidence that this baby is definitely a girl. So ... we'll see! I'm feeling very similar to how I felt with Theo right about now and I was oh SO sure he was a she ... but we all know time will tell. 

All day, every day and every other sentence that comes out of her mouth Julia asks, "sooo what do you sink we should name the baby?" and so I pose the question to her and she makes up some 89 syllable word (keekeekookoohahalaladumbo) and cracks herself RIGHT up. And then she turns to Theo and asks him and he says, "da!" like he says for everything and Julia solemnly says, "fine, we'll name her 'da'".  

Lord help this little baby if it's a boy. Julia might never forgive him. 

I'm stuck in that weird place that is being ready for the baby to come and knowing that life is skating riiiiiight along easy street compared to life with a newborn. Simon still has four more interviews to tango with so ... I'm just mostly praying the timing works out. If I have to take the kids up to labor + delivery on my own ... well, I had better have some pretty sweet swag bags for the poor nurses that have to hang with the camplets until Simon magically appears. Because he will. I know't.

Anyway ... if you want to scare me with your, "biggest baby" stories ... I'm all eyes and ears over here. Otherwise ... there's always the birth story link-up (267 stories! holy placenta!) that I've been scouring in the middle of the night because something has to keep the insomnia and jar of peanut butter company. And that something is them.

Oh! and for kicks!
37 weeks with Bash
35.5 weeks with J
37 weeks with Theo

potty training: the aftermath {and will the real mom blogger please stand UP}

Straight forward disclosure from me to you: it's a big, bad sponsored post! I still used my usual brain to write it, though. Last time I threw one of these down it was about diapers (and I learned that my fellow mother hens have strong opinions about diaper brands ... as they should) because diapers are kind of like the 6th member of our family right now so it made sense to type (and type and type) about them. 

I didn't think the today's content (despite the hilarious commercials) was necessarily the best fit for our family but then I read a tiny bit more about the product and came to my senses. I solemnly swear that I will not be blogging about feminine hygiene products .... ever. If I do ... boycott the Camp for GOOD, please. Disclosure done.

So! Let's begin.

Julia is pretty much completely potty trained.

I do throw a safety net by way of a diaper on her for naps and bedtime only because I'm not the biggest fan of urine saturated sheet roulette but by my low standards: she's potty trained. Aside from the terribly timed, "I riddy riddy need to go to the rastroom" announcements that are never not trumpeted in some sort of inconvenient public situation ... I prefer potty trained to not. My only teeny tiny complaint would be that after she makes a certain visit of the second variety to the ladies room ... she lacks the understanding that a very thorough cleaning job should be completed and always has to be talked into getting a little help from mom or dad. Or Sebastian ... but that never goes over well. I know that's perfectly normal. Maybe there are gifted little three-year-olds out there that get it and do the wiping thing with ease and flying colors but I would imagine it's not the norm.

I could just send her in with a pack of baby wipes but ....

... plus our toilet is ancient and temperamental and does not tolerate shenanigans of any sort.

:::::::: trumpets ::::::::::

Enter the Cottonelle Flushable Cleansing Cloths.

They break up after flushing and are completely toilet and septic safe, don't have a strong or flowery scent that I tend to hate, and are most definitely helping Julia forge onward toward complete potty training independence.

No, they don't 100% insure perfection every single time but paired with Cottonelle's Clean Care Toilet Paper ...

{for the visual learners - a visual aid}

... they've helped immensely and I have a feeling that when I'm tethered to the couch with a nursling in several weeks ... I'll be really grateful for the extra help in the, "Julia needs halp!!!" department.

Other unconventional {and probably unintended} uses for the cloths:
+ phone screen cleaner. the best on the market ... and I've tried them all.
+ eye makeup remover
+ nose wiper (Julia has terrible allergies and our delicate flower claims that everything - even baby wipes - hurts her chapped nose - and so far ... all good with the Cottonelle Cloths)
+ and my absolute favorite: mom's fake-a-shower helper ... let's elaborate on that a bit because I'm curious how other moms handle the old shower conundrum. It seems like the classic hallmark of new motherhood is never being able to shower and 3.5 years later ... it's still an issue over here. It's not uncommon for me to stop and wonder when the last time I showered WAS exactly.

This was one of those days. 

Stereotypical to the maximum. I've resigned myself to showering at night after the kids have done down but I hate when it cuts into time with Simon and I hate going to bed with damp hair (and I hate the 25 minutes it takes to fully blow dry my locks). C'est la rough, rough life for Grace. Any tips are appreciated, as always. You always pull through. But in the mean time ... I'll be faking showers left and right with the help of my favorite hair powder and of course ... Cottonelle cloths.

Anyway.
In conclusion ...
Thanks a million for reading.
Thanks a trillion for clicking. {coupon here}
And thanks a zillion for shower scheduling advisement.