I am not one to curse on my blog or out loud much really.  In my head it is a whole different story, but that is beside the point.

There is no other word but shit for our weekend.  It was everywhere.  Literally.

Violet is all good with pee pee in the potty and she just LOVES wearing undies.  She even potty trained her doll.  How sweet is she?

What she doesn’t relish is putting her nasty poop in that potty and it is driving us crazy.  It doesn’t matter if she has undies or a pull up on, she goes right in it and then takes it off with shit going everywhere and then sits on the potty, spreading the nasty all over everything.  Of course, I thought, the solution is simple.  She can be as naked as the day she is born and I will follow her around like a hawk.  When she makes that very obvious shit face, I will place her on the potty and she will learn.  It is not rocket science, right?

It could have worked, but Miles got sick this weekend. He came into my room late Friday night saying his body hurt and I heard the sound of his stomach turning.  In order to save my bed I sacrificed the carpet.  I spun him around (that’s the gentle way of putting it.  We have a brand new bed.) and he threw up all the way from my bed to the bathroom and to the potty.  He had nothing left.  It was all on the carpet.  We cuddled him and cleaned him and changed him and then I spent an hour cleaning our carpet, but I knew that this stain, like the ones in the other bedrooms, would be nearly impossible to get out.

On Saturday morning I was performing my hawk like observation of Violet when I head Miles cry out, “Mom, my toots are exploding!”.  I glanced at Violet and ran to see Miles trying to run down the hall with diarrhea running down his pant legs.  He started bawling and Ross and I were at a loss for a moment.  Don’t be shocked, we love him but that was just a lot to take in and we had to figure out a plan for getting him out of his clothes.  It turns out there is no good way and we all ended up covered in shit.  Thank God I rolled up my sleeves.  Miles’ clothes were not salvageable.  In fact, we have sacrificed 3 pairs of pants completely this week.  They were not worth saving, I promise.

This whole horror story lasted only a few minutes when we remembered Violet.  We looked in and she looked fine and happy.  Then we saw the floor.  Littered amongst the logos and the figures was a bunch of scattered turds.  One she had stepped in.  As gross as this was, it was better than the previous accident.  She looked at the poop and started to pick it up to put it in the potty.  At that moment I almost threw up too.

Needless to say, I cleaned a lot of floors Saturday morning.  I cleaned a lot of body parts.  I cleaned a lot of toys.

Let’s just say Miles got antibiotics and they have made him feel better but his toots keep exploding.  And he keeps yelling “exploding toots mom!”.

It’s been a long few days.

You might be wondering about the sunshine?  Well, first, we are getting there on the potty training.  That will be a big amen moment! Even better though, after 6 years in this house with carpets that have always needed replacing, we are getting new carpet!  My big wish got moved to the top of the list when we surveyed the damage of the past few days coupled with all the stuff that came on the carpet from the previous owners with 5 dogs.  It’s hard to move “not needed” things up the list with my husband, but this few days of shit totally did it!

I will totally be posting the whole before and after on Tip Top Nest, so I hope you can check it out!  It is my brand new home blog.  So there’s some sunshine too.  I love it!

I am off to continue moving all of the furniture out of the bedrooms.  I hope you are having a much less shitty time than I am!

She had a mystery rash covering her body.  This photo was taken a little before 9 a.m.  By 10 a.m. the rash had spread to her face and the entire red portion was becoming brighter and very swollen.  Of course I called the doctor instead of typing my fears to Dr. Google when I saw the nasty red area was surrounding her eyes.

$25 Bucks for Mommy Guilt and a Mystery

Of course, as usual after you pay $25 dollars to see a professional and not the free Dr. Google, the problem is completely your fault and basically untreatable.  Violet has hives.  She is allergic to something and I am supposed to figure out which one of the million things that child touches or puts in her mouth causes this outbreak.  I am supposed to go through these million things with the knowledge that 2/3 of the time, according to the real doctor, we will never figure out what the offensive item is.

If we cannot deduce by amazing sleuthing what item causes this and it remains all over her body in 2 freaking weeks, then we will go to the allergist.  So you know, the Dr. said that often this also yields no additional information but for the list of terrible possible allergies my child might have.  Let me just say we run the gamut of allergies in this family already.  Shellfish, bees, nuts, and even grass run in my husband’s lovely blood.  Awesome.  I’m pretty sure that $50 specialist co-pay would lead to something just awful.

So we begin the process of watching every single thing she touches and hoping that this goes away so she can enjoy her 2nd birthday on Thursday.

A Molloscum is Better than a Nipple

The day got even better when I asked about the bumps on Miles’ legs that have recently become very painful and irritated.  I was told he has very common internal virus that produces wart like bumps called Molloscum Contagiosum.  About 50% of children will get them but Miles has extremely sensitive skin and as his immune system recognized these molloscums (yuck!) it did what it was supposed to and started to attack them.  Now the back of his legs is a bloody infected mess and according  to the doctor I should be cheering on his immune system for finally getting it right.  This is less than a huge Wahoo in my book.

What we are really pumped about is the fact that we thought that one of those molloscum on his chest, after a few glasses of wine, looked a lot like a third nipple.  Well we all know from Chandler on Friends that a third nipple is like totally uncool and people just want to see it and whether or not is has hair and they call it a nubbin to make it cute and well, we just hoped he didn’t have one.  We would have loved him and his third nipple, but we are happy with that molloscum that will go away after his body physically attacks and mutilates it.

Now Investing in Band-Aid and Really Cool Pants

As you may have guessed, that whole contagiosum thing means this can be spread and so, for Miles to go to school, his third nipple like molloscum will need to be covered with a water tight bandaid and he will need to wear pants to cover his knees.  Let’s hope these babies go away before the southern summer roasts my poor little guy.  Good news is this type of bump is not spreadable to me or to other grownups unless we have a compromised immune system.  So, last night’s cuddle fest will not give me the bumps.  However, there are no more baths together, which will devastate Miles and he has to wear his long pants or jammies while playing with the girls.  Poor kid.  He loves nothing more than being naked.  So this blows.

As far as illness and affliction, I know this is small potatoes compared to some stuff out there, and I am grateful that our illnesses are more gross than serious.  Still, could today have sucked much more? Probably not.

I am off to make lists of a million possible allergens.  I hope you have something more fun on your agenda.

Now, it is a battle for the first bite.  It doesn’t even matter what we are feeding him.  We all sit down and the trauma begins.

First, he says his belly hurts.

Then, he starts crying for mommy, when I am sitting right next to him.  This moan turns into a wail.

We tell Miles that if he wants to scream and cry he needs to be excused from the table.  We try to be gentle.  He dissolves and begins to near hysterics.

We send Miles to time out.  His wails for Mommy escalate and he is inconsolable.  To be honest, I keep wondering why they can’t call for Daddy when they are losing their shit.  It’s always Mommy when things are disintegrating.  Wahoo, my kid wants me when the world is falling apart but wants Daddy when the the good times come.   I’m so lucky.

Time out doesn’t work.  He never calms down.  He whimpers his way back to the table claiming he is ready to eat and when he sits down,. his ailment changes.

Now his belly doesn’t hurt, he is coldy.  It’s almost 100 degrees outside and I know this is impossible as I can smell the sweat on the rest of us.  Sounds lovely doesn’t it?

In between time outs he moves from coldy to every other malady he can think of.  He claims his eyes hurt.  I come back with explaining that perhaps that is from all the crying.  He says his nose hurts.  I remind him that due to the crying his nose is running.  Then he moves to the ridiculous.  His toes hurt.  His fingernails hurt.  His hair hurts.  His knees hurt.  His hands don’t work.  His toes are sore.

It goes on and on and then he  asks, with tears rolling down his cheeks, if he can have a treat.  I hate this moment because I want him to eat his food and I am not against bribery, but anyone who has thrown a fit like this does not deserve a treat.  Still, I try to avoid the question and focus on the food.

Everyone tries to help.  Sophia and Ross and my brother, who is staying with us, make up games. We try everything.

Everyone else is done eating and focusing on Miles while he moves his food around his plate and whines.  I love my little guy to death, but this is too much.   Finally, my brother is able to get him to eat by making a contest out of each flipping bite.    After 45 minutes of hell, the little man finally takes his first bite and we all hold our breath.

Sometimes he continues and finishes his plate as if he just sat down. Other nights, like tonight, the whining resumes and he is sent to time out.  Tonight he finally finished his dinner more than an hour after we started.  He sat on the floor of the kitchen with his Dad and ate his grilled cheese.  Who doesn’t eat grilled cheese?   There were no vegetables to be seen tonight…and still…the meal monster surfaced.

Here’s the kicker.  This is happening at breakfast (with bagels people) and lunch as well.  I am totally overwhelmed and ignoring other responsibilities and my little blog just to nourish my son.  It’s not even working!  I can’t seem to explain to my husband how terrible this all makes me feel.  He was away last week and was shocked at how bad the situation has become.

Other than meals, he remains my gorgeous, hilarious clown of a son.  He continues to light up a room and make me laugh until my sides hurt.  He is a joy with a big BUT…

I need your advice and please, share your food horror stories. Should I simply excuse him from the table to his room and not let him join us until he is calm?  Should I clear his plate when we all are finished if he sits calmly but does not touch his food?  Does anyone have any tips or ticks for me on this one?   I am at my wits end.

In good news, Violet is my new garbage disposal and is faster than I am at cleaning the floor.  She eats what she finds, but hey, at least it gets clean.  Sophia is like a little mommy, trying to help and show how good she is by eating her food and soothing her brother.  2 out of 3 ain’t bad…but it could be better.

What a perfect way to get a picture of all three of my Crazy Wonderful kids!

Go ahead…make one…it’s free!  And the quote boxes…well I just love them.

Now that I am grown up, it is not so easy.  While my life is full of blessings and joy, glee is made up jubilation and triumph and, in my opinion, sparkles of the spirit.  It is something that is difficult if not impossible to work for.  You have to be open to it.  You have to be able to let go and enjoy a moment fully.  This is an ability I lack these days.  Most grown-ups do.  I am so concerned with safety and sunscreen and being sensible that I end up watching life instead of living it.  Instead of relishing it.

I am letting go a little.  Or a lot.  I am embracing the silly and wonderful child that is in me.

Now, I feel real joy.  I feel pride.  I smile a lot.  I laugh.  I am happy.

But I want that crazy sparkly glee back.  A little glorious…a little mischievous…a lot of awesome.

I am going to stick my head up in the clouds and let some light in.

I will show my kids my glee…all grown up but just as sparkly.

Do you have glee?  Do you feel it?  Or might you need to join me in the clouds for a spell?

Now it’s your turn!  Link up your post on Glee anytime this week and include the badge above linked back to this site.  The code is available on the sidebar.   Please visit a few other posts and show some love.  If you are tweeting about your own post or a post you found and love, please use the #whatsyourword hashtag so we can all follow along.  If you are seeing the series for the first time, check out the What’s Your Word page for a little more information.  If you have a word you know you want to be all yours, just shoot me an email to be the featured post for the week.

Show me your Glee and get ready for another round.

Next week’s word is Complicated.

I know we all have something to say about that.  Life just ain’t simple.   If you feel as close to this word as I do and want to be the featured post – just let me know!

It’s hilarious to watch Miles and Sophia play.  The mix of girls and boys toys makes for some rowdy encounters between figures.  Those brawny muscled knights and those beautiful buxom princesses have a much hotter life than I do, that’s for sure.

Miles:  Belle, I’m going to bang you!  Get ready.  (Miles attacks the princess with his knight.)

Sophia:  No, don’t bang me I’m a princess.  You will wreck my dress. (Sophia backs Belle away.)

Miles:  I want to bang you Belle.  And Cinderella I will bang you too.  Bang!  Bang! (Miles crushes the princesses with his knights.  The knights also bangs a girl in roller skates, Snow White, and Iridessa the fairy.)

Sophia:  No, no!

Miles:  I will bank you and stick you with my sword! (Seriously, I can’t make this crap up.)

Sophia:  Oh knight No! You need to save me from the dragon. (Waving princess in the air towards Rex, who is standing outside the castle.)

Miles:  Belle, I will bang the dragon and I will save you.  Dragon, I am banging you and sticking you.  (Miles attacks the dragon with his knight…and clearly is getting a little kinky.)

Sophia:  Oh thank you knight, do you want to get married and sleep in my bed? (Sophia lays belle down in the bed…she has a fascination lately with the fact that Ross and I sleep together.)

Miles:  I love married.  I will get in your bed, Belle. (The knight lays down in the bed with Belle.)

This goes on and on.  I cannot help but laugh hysterically as the kids do not understand at all what they are saying.  Miles tells me when he is going potty that he is going to bang me with his penis.  I kid you not.  I tell him that is not nice, but I have to choke back a giggle as my slightly inappropriate sense of humor rears its head.

So, ’round here knights bang princesses and then they get married.  How’s that for breaking class barriers?

p.s.  The Beast stood on the tower the whole time and never came to Belle’s aid.  Both of the kids still think he is bad.  But he always is placed in the tower first.

p.p.s.  The poor girl in the roller skates just got banged and not married.

p.p.p.s.  Sophia said the pretty pony was supposed to be guarding the castle.  I told her that pony did a pretty poopy job.  She just laughed.

It has come to my attention time and time again that many people assume I (and many other women) stuck with breastfeeding because it must have just clicked for me.  I hear things like “I wish it had been so easy for me” and I want to respond, but I know whatever I say will come out sounding like I am obsessed with other women’s lactation decisions.  I am not.

I have no problem with mothers making the choice to breastfeed or formula feed.  I totally get that some mothers cannot breastfeed and wish they could.  I understand that certain work scenarios make it almost impossible to maintain a milk supply.  There are so many reasons why breastfeeding may or not work for a woman.  I am not commenting on or judging those reasons.  I promise. 

Here’s the thing though…

Please don’t look at me and assume this breastfeeding thing is all easy and sweet.  Because breastfeeding is the one of the hardest things I have ever done in my life.   It is also one of the things I am most proud of and I will never regret going through what I have in order to nurse my children. 

I, like many people, said I was going to breastfeed my children.  I was sure of it.  My mom breastfed all of us and never mentioned it being hard.  I figured it might take a couple days but then everything would be wonderful.  I did not fully understand it all or what it would take, but I read the books and went to the classes and said “I’m going to do that.”

No matter what happened, I did that and I am still doing it.  Some days I can’t believe it.  I thought about giving up.  It was that hard.

In the Beginning…and After the Beginning

In September of 2006 Sophia was born.  My milk came in right away, so fast that she could not latch on when I held her in the moments after she was born.  She would simply slide off.  I spent the days in the hospital crying through the night while lactation consultants came in and tried every position to help my firstborn to eat.  She got some milk while I was in the strangest positions and while it was painful, I could actually squeeze milk into her small mouth.   My lactation consultant advised me to come in 2 days after we went home.  Everyone thought that I just got my milk early and that after the normal engorgement everything would work itself out. 

When I got to the LC’s office I had a low grade fever and my breasts were as hard as rocks.  I had a small red area on one side and as I cringed in pain while holding Sophia’s mouth to my breast to eat, the LC informed me that I was most likely already experiencing mastitis from being unable to empty the milk and from the strange way that Sophia had to eat so that she would not drown in milk.  I am not kidding, if she did not clench down and take one gulp at a time her little face would be covered in milk.  It was terrible for her as she ended up choking and spitting and upset.  It was awful for me as I wondered what to do and felt completely embarrassed.  The two of us were constantly dripping.  I went home with a call into my OB for antibiotics and a scale to measure how much milk Sophia was actually getting.  Turns out if you cover the baby in milk not a lot goes in.

It did not take long to figure out that I was struggling with hyperlactation.  I had weekly appointments with the LC for a couple of months.  I made WAY too much milk.  It’s funny because some people find breastfeeding hard because they have to nurse or pump so much to keep supply up.  I had to do a crazy routine of block feeding combined with minimal pumping and then a once a day pump out to keep my supply from building up and getting me sick. 

Sophia and I finally figured out our own little complicated routine.  I cherish the moments I have spent nursing each of my children and do not regret at all my decision to stick with it.  However, my overproduction was not improving.  I had mastitis multiple times, constantly struggled with plugged ducts and was completely exhausted and overwhelmed by breastfeeding in my first few months of motherhood.

Besides being sick, I never really thought about the fact that my husband could not breastfeed.  No one’s can, unfortunately.  It was all my boobs…all the time.  We could not get Sophia to take a bottle and with our crazy weighing and recording and pumping schedule there was little Ross could do to help.  Why take a bottle when the milk came so much faster from the boob?  Nothing worked.  There is a joke that Brittany does nights.  I have been up for so long at all hours of the morning that it is true.  I do nights. Ross does give backrubs, bless his heart.

Back to Work

When Sophia was 14 weeks old, I went back to work with my pump.  I never went anywhere without a pump.  I had the hand pump for my purse (still do) and the big double electric for work.  My team and boss were aware that I was breastfeeding, but man was it hard.  I had to pump every three hours or risk a very embarrassing situation at work.  I took calls from the little room I pumped in.  I sat attached to those plastic cups with my blackberry in hand, trying to keep up with my days.  At the end of that day I had two coolers full of small bottles of milk.  We all thought that with me at work she would learn to take the bottle quickly.  We were all wrong.

Sophia did something called reverse cycling, where instead of learning to sleep through the night and eat during the day, the baby holds out during the day, content to get all of their nutrition directly from their mama.  She would have only a few sips at daycare and then nurse every couple of hours all night long.  She ate almost constantly from 6 to 10 p.m. and then every 3 hours until I left for work.  Honestly, it was grueling.  Also, our freezer was completely full of milk that she never drank.

I told everyone I knew that I was devoted to breastfeeding 100% and not to give me the option to give up.    Things were so hard that even my husband Ross, who fully supported me, told me he would still be proud of me if I gave up.  He was worried about me.  I was too, but each day things got a little tiny bit easier and I told myself that motherhood would require many battles and many sacrifices.  This was just one of them. 

Finally at around 7 months old, Sophia took a bottle.  Finally, she was drinking all that milk I pumped.  It felt like a miracle.  She started to sleep through the night and I started to feel like a human being again.

I ended up quitting my job.  I am so lucky that I was able to do that, but it made me so sad.  I love working and I was good at what I did.  I just needed to focus on being a mom and on feeling better.  Very soon after leaving my job I was feeling like a human again and I was pregnant again.

While I never wrestled with reverse cycling again, breastfeeding did not get easier the 2ndand3rd time around.

All My Children

As it turns out…none of my kids were big bottle fans.  Miles started learning to drink from a sippy at 6 months old and Violet has actually never wanted anything to do with one.  Yes, we tried it right away and kept trying.  Yes, we had babysitters try.  She is a no go.  She would not even try standard sippies until recently.  Just the boob.  Always the boob. 

All of my kids had to be weighed at each feeding to see how much milk they were getting, much like babies nursing from low milk supply or with latch issues. 

I continue to struggle with hyperlactation andhadmy last bout of mastitis just a couple months ago.  My LC is my friend now.  We got close.

I continue to leak milk each and every day.  I had to put pads in to write this post.  Violet is 14 months old and the furthest I have been from her is a party we went to 15 miles from my house.   While I have gotten the crazy spray under control (it used to shoot across the room) this is not ideal in any way. 

All of my children learned to nurse with a lot of work and patience.  It is a beautiful thing for me to feed them.  It just didn’t come “naturally” at all.

Breastfeeding Blues

I don’t think this is an actual term, but man do I feel like a fish out of water sometimes.   I have a lot of friends who had babies at the same time as me and a few that breastfed and a lot that did not, at least not past a month or so.  When you are breastfeeding, especially with a bottle hating baby, there are no breaks.  I am not invited to girls weekends.  We have missed couples getaways and anything that involves not bringing the baby.  Sometimes I just want to stop, but I don’t feel like it’s the right time and honestly, if Violet is my last, I am not ready to give up this time we have together.  I do want a night away with Ross or with friends, but we are just not ready.

Right Now

Things are easier now.  Violet is a good eater and my hyperlactation is as under control as it can be.  For the first time, I do not have to pump anymore, and I couldn’t be more excited to feel less like a cow and more like a lady.  While Violet still eats throughout the night we have a schedule and hey, she’s a cute addition to any blogging conference.  We will go on vacation alone at some point.  My other children self-weaned.  I think perhaps it was because things change when you are pregnant and my supply diminished, allowing me to cut out feedings.  I’m not preggers so at this point she is still getting lots of yummy milk.  Why wean?  As she gets busier I think she will drop some daytime feedings and I do hope that she starts to sleep through the night.  All in all, we are good. 

My Choice

I know that this is my choice.  At any time I could be done and say goodbye to breastfeeding.   I’m not looking for anyone to feel bad for me, just to share my story.  For me, as long as I could nurse my children, I was going to do it.   Many people are shocked that I kept breastfeeding.  Even my pediatrician suggested it was okay if I stop.  I never asked for anyone else to approve of my choice but I did ask them to support it.   While I make jokes about my struggles I have never really expressed how hard it was.   Most breastfeeding moms I talk to have struggled at some point and know what a challenge it can be to stick with it until it starts to feel natural and fit in your life.  I know I am not alone.

Breastfeeding my children is a gift.  Despite the battles, I would not make a different choice if I could.  Believe me, there are parenting areas in which I take the easy road.  This is just one where I decided to fight for my choice.  And I was lucky enough to win.

My Point (If there is one)

Yes, this is my story.  All moms have one.  It sometimes feels like because of the formula vs. breast milk war breastfeeding moms are not allowed to express their story for fear of offending a mom who could not or chose not to breastfeed.  Motherhood is hard no matter what choices you make in breastfeeding or anything else.   Motherhood is not a competition.  Sharing our different choices and journeys is important.    Maybe telling my story will allow another mom who is struggling to stick with it.  Maybe it will simply make people aware that the pride a breastfeeding mom feels is not because she is looking down on anyone else, but because she is happy with herself and this accomplishment.  Maybe my story will upset some people.  I sincerely hope not. 

I am that mom who is really proud of myself for sticking with it.  Because while breastfeeding my kids is one of the most amazing things I have ever done, I have something to tell you.     

It’s not all nips and giggles.

Thanks to the makers of Pine-Sol® for sponsoring my writing. A study shows a clean smelling home can help children succeed, so Pine-Sol® is supporting Reading is Fundamental (RIF) this year. Click “Like” on Pine-Sol®’s Facebook page here and they will donate books to RIF!

I honestly believe that children learn the most at home, whether or not they have childcare elsewhere. My kids are in pre-school in the mornings and they love it, but I think their time at home is the most important, especially at their ages.  Kids are comfortable in their homes and they trust their parents and the environment. As parents, we have a responsibility to make sure that we are providing activities for our children that inspire them to learn, to question, to create…to achieve. 

My kids are all very young.  Sophia is 4, Miles is 2 and Violet just turned 1.  They are all tiny sponges who live every day soaking in new knowledge as they ask questions and form their first opinions of the world around us.    I try to provide an environment where we can explore the basics like letters, numbers, colors and shapes and also really enjoy music, dancing, imaginative play and the outdoors. 

We start with books.  I am a bibliophile, a bookworm if you will.  I have thousands of books and the kids each have their own bookshelf.  I adore them and always have.  I was the little girl with the flashlight under her sheets at night.  My first chapter book was “B is for Betsy”.  I read it towards the end of kindergarten and I have never turned back.    None of my kids are fully reading yet, but we have 2 reading times each day, one after school and one before bed. The kids each pick a book and then I pick a book for each of them.  I always want them to make choices but I also know that a 2 and 4 year old will choose the same book for months on end as they attempt to memorize it.  Mommy needs a little variety!  Reading is our inspiration!

I really like this setup because the kids discover new books and they develop a love for books that make them happy.  Sophia has chosen Fancy Nancy every day for a month.  Miles always chooses something about dinosaurs.  His current favorite is from the fabulous Pipkin series and is called “How Big Was a Dinosaur?”.  Miles is almost 3 and has trouble with a lot of words but that boy can pick out a Parasaurolophus, a Maiasaura, a Pterandon or 50 others in a lineup of dinos and call out their name.  It is crazy. Violet is a big fan of touchy feely books and loves things that rhyme when read in silly voices.  Thankfully I am great at ridiculous voices.  For my books, I usually choose classic childrens stories or books about things that we love to explore in our world.  So we read about the moon, animals, artists, birds, frogs…anything we have been talking about “in real life”.  If there is something else we want to read, I usually just agree.  We have some very long reading times and they love books!

I believe that life is best learned living it, so despite my love affair with the written word, we get out and live.  Inspiring children is easy with a little energy and creativity.  We get out our Tupperware and talk about what holds more or less.  We take those plastic bowls in the bathtub to talk about water and air.  We go on nature walks to collect leaves or rocks or find 5 animals.  We hit the yard with our parachute and play games, trying to catch the wind and run underneath.  My kitchen table is tinted green from the amount of paint that I have tried to scrub off it as the kids create their messy masterpieces.  We have a basket full of instruments and have impromptu concerts.  We make up songs about everything.  The kids are learning to use tools and help me with my building projects.  We look at the moon and stars and talk about how big they are and how cool the solar system is.  The solar system is fast becoming our favorite new conversation.  I’m feeling a Styrofoam planet project in our future!  Really, I just try to make whatever needs to get done as fun as possible and try to throw in something special and learning oriented for the kiddos in the afternoon. 

The most important thing for us in terms of inspiring achievement in the home is letting our kids know we believe in them.  All the books and activities mean nothing if your child feels like they are disappointing you because they don’t read early enough or color in the lines or know the notes on the piano.  Children at very young ages develop at different rates.  Some kids become verbal faster, some have the agility to ride a bike at 3, some can read at 4, some can keep a tune from the time they are a toddler.  Usually each kid has a mix of abilities, some more developed than others.  Most of this stuff will start to equal out by the early years of elementary school and is totally normal!   I get the best “results” from my kids when I encourage them and tell them how awesome that blob that is supposed to be a dinosaur is…you know what I mean?   I think the worst thing I could do would be to stifle their curiosity and make them uncertain about taking chances and trying new things for fear of doing it wrong.

So we use books and arts and life and hugs to inspire achievement in our home.  What do you do to get your kids started on the best path possible? 

Don’t forget to click over to Pine-Sol®’s Facebook page to support our children’s success. I was selected for this Pine-Sol® sponsorship by the Clever Girls Collective, which endorses Blog With Integrity, as I do.

Last year Miles launched himself off the couch and hit the coffee table.  This resulted in a lot of blood on my 8 month pregnant body and let me tell you…this brought fast service in the E.R.  I was wearing a white shirt and he looked like he was bleeding from the eye.  That trip to the E.R. sucked.  But at least it was quick.

On Saturday I was all set to spend the afternoon with my sister Katie while Violet napped and Ross took Sophia and Miles to a bowling party.  Then I got a phone call from Ross.  They were headed to the E.R. with Miles, who broke his chin open on a bowling ball.  Of course, I am the mom so I have the insurance cards.  Of course, it took me 30 minutes to find the damn cards.  When I did, I rushed to see my baby.  Thank goodness our hospital has a children’s E.R. that plays Nick Jr.  Franklin held Miles’ attention even while he cried.  Great turtle, that Franklin.

Ross told me Miles was walking up the lane with his 5 pound ball in his tiny size 8 bowling shoes when he tripped and fell.  His chin hit the holes on the bowling ball. 

His chin started out looking okay but as time went on the wound began to look deep and gross.  I could see stitches in his future.  After about an hour, I was also seeing stars.  I have been sick, and I began to feel light-headed and nauseous.  My head was swimming and we found out after 2 hours that Miles would in fact need stitches and that it would take about an hour to totally numb the area.

I did the unthinkable, at least for me.  I left Miles with his dad and went home to close my eyes.  Miles did say it was okay.  Still, I felt terrible.  But I needed to go or risk passing out in the hospital.  Thank God Ross is such a good daddy and Miles was totally comfortable with him.

When they came home my baby had a band-aid over his 5 stitches and he was proud that he was such a big boy.  He is wild and he is a little warrior.  My little warrior.

He got tired as the afternoon wore on but I got a picture of him before he asked to go to bed.

He woke up and asked if he could go bowling again.  He loved it, despite the injury.

So I guess the bowling ball tried to kick my little guy’s ass but in the end, Miles will go into battle again.

And I, I will hold my breath and watch him grow up. 

Miles:  Mommy, when is Maddie coming back from the pool?

Me:  Miles, what do you mean?  Maddie is not at the pool honey.

Miles:  Yes she is.  She’s been diving a long long time.  I miss her.

Me:  No sweetie, Maddie is not diving.  Maddie was dying, and now she is dead and is in heaven.

Miles:  I think I want to dive with Maddie at Heaven.

Me:  No Miles, heaven is not a pool.  No one is at the pool today.  Maddie is in heaven and you are here with me.  You do not want to be with Maddie.

Miles:  Is Maddie coming back?

Me:  No sweetie, but she isn’t sick anymore and she is happy.

Miles:  Maddie is happy in heaven.  Can I go diving at the pool?

Me:  Yes, this summer when it is hot.

I was out of town when my dog Madeline died.  Ross took Miles with him tot he vet and Miles said goodbye and cried when they left Madeline there.  I found out in my car and pulled over to bawl and explain to Sophia what had happened.  We talked about death and heaven and how much we loved Madeline and how we would not see her again. 

I think that some part of this discussion was lost between father and son or simply misunderstood by Miles.  First, Ross is Jewish so I’m not so sure heaven came up.  Maybe Miles did not know where Maddie went.  Second, Miles is still working on his sounds so it would be easy to misunderstand dying and diving.  He had not ever heard of dying before and we talk about being old enough to dive every day all summer as we watch the big kids jump off the board.  

So for the last 7 months Miles thought that Maddie was at the pool, diving without out, and wanted her to come home.  It broke my heart to tell him again that Madeline was not going to come home.  Every time we see a doberman he thinks it is Maddie and wants to bring her home.  That kills me too.

But I have to say – it is priceless that he has been picturing the dog on a diving board living it up while we have been mourning her death.

Miles helped me to laugh about Madeline.  I needed that.