I'm Just Catching You Up

Since last Friday, our family has been going 100 miles an hour.

Saturday -- Jim took Meg down to Georgia Tech to tailgate with friends before the game against Mississippi State. I stayed home with Kate and got ready to host a party later that evening. Meg came home, napped, redressed, and off we went to a birthday party (at which Meg secured a Thomas the Tank Engine whistle which is now her favorite 'outside' toy). We returned home, collected ourselves, then hosted a very fun evening gathering of a dozen adults and 8 kids.

Sunday -- My shoot was cancelled, so we spent the day as a family. We went for a hike (yes, we never do things like that . . . Jim had a wild hair that morning). We went to the park. We made dinner together.

Monday -- Jim flew out early for a week long (5 Day! ugh!) trip to Alaska. The girls and I went to music class, then met a friend at the park for a pre-lunch playdate. We came home, napped, then played in the drive way with a neighbor for more than 2 hours in the afternoon. Oh, and I busted out the Bumbo for Kate . . .

Today -- Tuesday -- Meg went preschool, Kate and I grocery shopped. My dad (AKA Granddaddy) came to visit and we took the girls to the North Georgia State Fair -- after afternoon naps, of course. The fair was fantastic and a total blast for Meg. I can't wait to take her back when she can ride a few more of the (reasonably safe) children's rides. She ate junk food, went to the petting zoo, and won a Dora doll at the midway . . . fairs like this one never, ever change.

Tomorrow is all set to be busy with playdates and a park adventure. Thursday Meg will go off to school again and I'll run errands. Friday brings a morning playdate, daddy's return, and a local parade.

WHAT a week this is. I feel like I'm running a marathon, and I am really just a stay-at-home mom. Next week, we are laying low . . . I need recovery time.

A Failed Attempt

At getting pictures of the girls . . .

If I can't do any better than this, then expect something goofy on our Christmas cards.

Again with the '3 Months Old' Thing

I mentioned last week that, to me, 3 months felt like a real milestone in 'baby life'. It is like the bridge from newborn to infant . . . a mark that you are excited to achieve because in those first few weeks you often hear that "everything gets better after the 12th week . . ."

Now that Meg is 2 years and 3 months old, I have a series of photos to share.

3 months old, Sept 21, 2006

1 year, 3 months old, Sept 21, 2007

2 years, 3 months old, Sept 21, 2008

If you can't tell between this and the 'rocking chair series' photos I've done, I really love to show the progression of time in the photos I keep of the girls. I try my best to document how much they've grown and changed in certain periods of time so that (a) we have it to look back on and (b) we can appreciate it right now.

Meg is 2 years and 3 months old, and the changes that we've seen in that period of time cannot possibly be reflected in these photographs. We've gone from wobbling headedness to jumping into the swimming pool. From nursing exclusively to requesting her favorite meal. From fitful baby naptime to napping for 2+ hours daily. From no talking to "sometimes I wish she'd stop talking". And she's changed a lot physically, too . . . as you can see in the photographs.

I just love to watch them grow. It never ceases to amazing me.

Favorite Photo Friday, Week 4

Kate Allison, Mareitta GA, September 18, 2008

My little peanut was 3 months old yesterday. Already.

For some reason, I feel like 3 months is this huge milestone for babies. I felt that way with Meg, and I felt exactly the same with Kate. I feel like, at 3 months, they move from the newborn 'bologna loaf' to a more interactive, playful baby. Whether it is or not, I find it to be a significant mark in their life as babies.

On Meg's 3 month birthday, I proudly took her to a local park and strutted around with my stroller carrying my darling little girl. I was so excited to have a baby . . . yearning for the days when I could take her to the park and let her run and play. I think Meg couldn't have cared less, but I'm sure she enjoyed sitting in that stroller and breathing in the fresh September air. Now that I have a toddler who plays at the park several times a week, I think back on that 3 month birthday and laugh. I was 'wishing away' a bit of Meg's baby-hood, wanting her to be a big girl too fast.

On Kate's 3 month birthday, we didn't make it to the park . . . but we spent the day together, just her and I, taking pictures and relishing in her baby-ness. I watched her work so hard to pick up her head and move it around while lying on her tummy. I let her fall asleep on my chest. I didn't feel the same need to take her out and display her for all to see . . . I took some time to have Kate all to myself.

I think these pictures show that -- even just 3 months into the whole '2 kid' thing -- my girls are going to grow up to be very different from one another. At 3 months, Meg was so solumn, so serious. She hadn't laughed yet, she was pretty quiet, and she was always taking everything in. Kate is so smiley, so interactive, and so wiggly at this age . . . not at all like her sister was.

Three months. Halfway to what I consider to be the next BIG milestone: Six Months.

But this time, I am in no rush.

The Magic PJs

When Meg was at the age that Kate is now, she was finally sleeping through the night. At 12 weeks, Meg had her first full night of sleep . . . it's all documented in the baby book for her to read years from now.

Although that blessed night in September did start Meg on the path to good night sleeping, it wasn't something that was terribly consistent for . . . well, about 3 months. From September through Thanksgiving, Meg's nighttime sleep was erratic. Sometimes she'd wake up to feed in the wee hours of the morning, and sometimes she wouldn't. You never knew what your night held when you put her down to sleep.

All of that changed when we discovered The Magic PJs.

These green fleece jammies were nothing short of a miracle. We quickly discovered that, on the nights Meg wore these to sleep, she would sleep through the night peacefully. Night after night we tried them, and night after night it worked.

We loved those PJs. The best part: they were hand-me-downs from my dearest friend's little girl. Alli had wore these -- and her big sister had a matching pair -- nearly 5 years earlier. My friend never claimed they were magic when she gave them to us, but BOY . . . we unleashed their magic powers and used them over and over.

Kate, the darling little sister in our family, slept through the night at 7 weeks. She was much too small at that time to dawn the magic pajamas . . . so we just had to hope that something else would help her sleep through the night somewhat consistently. A Swaddle Me blanket has been our saving grace for her . . . the very first night we used it, Kate slept from 11pm-7am. I could probably count on one hand the number of nights she has woken up for a 4am feeding since then. Much to our amazement, she sleeps through the night (I'm talkin' 8pm-8am) nearly every single night. As long as she's in her 'baby straight jacket', as we call it.

Kate might not need the magic of The Magic PJs, but we still had to use them. I washed them for her before she was born, and I've been so excited to see her in the little outfit that meant so much to Meg. Last night, Kate wore the oh-so-special jammies for the first time. I won't lie: it brought back a lot of memories for me. Memories of Jim and I trying to figure things out when we had our little baby Meg. Our jokes that we shared about raising our precious daughter. How much I loved tucking Meg in wearing those lime green nightclothes.

They might just be a yard or so of green fleece, but these PJs have a very magic place in my heart. I will tuck them away when Kate outgrows them and get them out one day to tell the girls this story of The Magic PJs.

Imitation, Motivation, and Humiliation

Imitation . . .

Meg is at a very cute stage these days . . . she imitates just about anything that she sees me doing. As I'm feeding Kate, it would not be unusual to see Meg lift up her shirt and feed her baby, too. If I'm sweeping the kitchen floor, within seconds I can be certain Meg will come running my way with her toy broom and dustpan to help with the job. This morning, I was bouncing and swaying Kate to her nap, and in came Meg to bounce and sway right next to me. She even wanted to put on make-up with me today . . . "Meg make up too, Mommy," she said as she pretended to brush blush on her cheeks.

It's all very darling and very, very cute. I'm enjoying this stage so much. Who wouldn't love their own personal 'mini-me' copying everything you do? I know she does it because she loves me and looks up to me, which is just so precious. They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery . . . and Meg has me totally flattered.

Motivation . . .

Tried on some jeans today at the local Old Navy store. Ladies (and a few gentlemen), I was fitting into size 10s. 10 is good enough for me! I was an 8 before Meg . . . maybe a 6 in some styles/brands . . . so just a size or so left until I'm back to the old ME.

The experience was very motivating. Makes me want to keep counting my points and watching the weight come off. 13 weeks post-baby and only about 10 pounds to go. I can't complain.

Humiliation . . .

Meg is picked up from preschool in every suburban mom's favorite fashion: the car pool line. We line up with our car pool numbers displayed in our windows, wait, then pull up to the loading area and have a friendly teacher load our kids into the car. It's fast and efficient, and any mom like me with another baby in tow appreciates the heck out of it.

Last Thursday, I pulled up to the front of the line, but Meg was not standing outside with a teacher all ready to be loaded up. This was the second time in a row that I'd pulled up and had to wait . . . which really doesn't matter to me, but I hate it for the others waiting in line behind the Tahoe.

I heard the preschool director shout into the building, "Number 83! Megan Dahlby!"

So I laughed and said loudly to Meg's teacher, standing in the loading area, "She probably wants to know who the hell Megan is!"

Yep. I said "HELL" very loudly . . . loud enough for Meg's teacher to hear . . . loud enough for other teachers to hear . . . and loud enough for some kids to hear, I'm certain.

As soon as it came out of my mouth, my eyes bulged and my hand covered my mouth. I had just shouted "HELL" not only at Meg's preschool, but at her church preschool. How mortifying. I was just trying to joke around . . . and instead I humiliated myself.

Luckily, the teachers all got a big laugh out of it. They all laughed as they got Meg in the car and wished us a good weekend. I hope it was honest laughing . . . and that they didn't go back into the building talking about Meg's mom, the potty mouth.

Tuesday, when I dropped Meg off, her teacher got her out of the car and said, "Good Morning, Megan. Oh . . . may I call you Megan?" then turned and winked at me. I just dropped my head with embarrassment. She laughed and told me to have a good morning.

Ugh, humilation stinks.

Wanted: A Babysitter

Consider this a 'Help Wanted' ad . . . because we aren't taking our 2 kids out to dinner again for a while, so we'll need a sitter to watch one (or both!) the next time we go.

Last night, we went out to dinner to celebrate Julie's (Jim's sister) 26th birthday. Seems easy enough, right? An early dinner at a PF Changs about 30 minutes from our house. Yeah, we have two young kids, but really . . . how hard could that be?

Hurdle # 1: Getting to the restaurant

Jim's sister is dating a great guy, and he owns a townhome in Suwanee, GA where they spend a majority of their time together. Suwanee is about 40 miles from where we live, but better than a 90 minute drive on a weekday evening. Being the great sister-in-law that I am, I suggested that we meeting somewhere in the middle for our dinner to give Julie and Greg a break from driving all the way to our side of town. But, that meant to meet a little after 6:00pm, Jim had to get home from work at a good time, I had to pack up for 2 kids, and we had to head out into the evening traffic.

Not too big of a deal. This we have done before. Besides, it was Julie's birthday . . . I wanted to make it a little easier for her.


Hurdle # 2: Kids Menu

When deciding on where to eat, Julie mentioned that PF Changs sounded good. Her only concern was what Meg would eat at a Chinese restaurant. (My only concern was Weight Watchers, but I can suck it up for a night.) I wasn't too worried about Meg. I was certain they would have a kids menu . . . at a chain like PF Changs, wouldn't you think they have a kids menu? Some nuggets, a grilled cheese, maybe some kids version of chinese noodles? I was convinced that something would be suitable for Meg, so PF Changs was our restaurant of choice.

We arrived. No kids menu.

Nothing, na-da.

Okay, we can manage that. Jim and I found some things on the menu that (a) wouldn't blow our diet for the night and (b) Meg would most likely nibble at. She won't starve . . . we figured she'd eat something. Worst case: we'd give her something else for a snack when we got home.

Hurdle # 3: Potty Breaks

Meg asked to go to the potty FOUR TIMES. FOUR. She actually went potty three of the four times. Taking a 2-year-old to the potty that many times while you are trying to enjoy an evening is just annoying.

I love that Meg is potty trained, but MAN were diapers easier!

Hurdle # 4: Evening Fussiness

I had to nurse a crying Kate as soon as we made it through that evening traffic and settled in at the restaurant. "I'm gonna whip it out" -- that's what I say when I have to nurse in front of a crowd. Julie is used to it -- and so is Jim -- so everyone seemed OK with Kate having her dinner while we decided on ours.

After eating, Kate was plesant for all of, I'll say, 20 minutes. Then she cried. Cried when held, cried when put down, cried when toys were offered to her. I had to leave the restaurant with her twice . . . once during dinner, and once during dessert. I didn't even get to sing Happy Birthday to Julie, the whole point of our dinner.

"How much longer to we have to be here?" I kept thinking. I love Julie -- I really do -- but a crying baby and a toddler with a weak bladder will make anyone want to get the hell out of anywhere that is uncomfortable.

Hurdle # 5: Appetizer, Dinner, Dessert

The meal took for-freakin'-ever. WAY too long for anyone like me, with 2 kids and a short temper. We sat down around 6:30 pm and got in the car to go home at 8:30 pm. A TWO HOUR dinner with two kids, 2 and under.

You know the funny part? Our waitress said she had two kids . . . and one of them is two years old. "Really?" I'm thinking. "They must be angels because you'd think anyone with 2 kids would appreciate my situation and HURRY IT UP A LITTLE!"

The first time I looked at my watch thinking, "When can we get out of here?" it was 7:30 pm. I had to make it through an entire hour longer. It seemed like our dinner lasted for 2 days instead of 2 hours.

Hurdle # 6: Getting Home

I don't think I even have to say it . . . but I will. Kate cried the entire 30 minute car ride home. No reprieve, no break. 30 solid minutes.

And Meg was 'singing' in the back seat, at the top of her voice: "I can't wait to be KING!!" (from The Lion King, you know the song).

When we got home, both girls went directly up to bath. Do not pass GO, do not collect $200. STRAIGHT to bath. Then straight to bed. By 9:30, everyone was in bed and asleep. Including ME. I was so tired, so drained, so OVER trying to take 2 kids anywhere. And I was so bummed because I was supposed to meet a girlfriend for coffee at 8:30pm . . . which I totally had to bail on because I was just leaving the 2 hour dinner when we should have been having coffee. That bummed me out and certainly didn't help my mood.

The moral of the story: we'll be eating home a little bit more these days.

Eating out for the Dahlbys just got about $25 more expensive . . . because we now will factor in the cost of child care when considering a meal out. The next time I don't prepare my own dinner, I sincerely hope that I'm looking across the table at only my loving husband . . . and that my kids are somewhere else driving someone else mad for a little bit.

And Jim and I still think we want another kid?! After nights like last night, I wonder how crazy we really are.

She's Fantastic

I've recently reconnected with an old friend . . . a college buddy from whom I had drifted apart through my mid-to-late 20s. This friend was a huge part of my life in my first few years at Georgia. She was someone I looked up to, someone who seemed to have it all together, someone I really cared about. When I last spent time with her, she was a newlywed. She seemed happy as a clam, living in her great house and enjoying her new post-college, very adult life.

As the last 6 years have flown by, this friend . . . who I thought had it all together with her great life in the suburbs . . . experienced more than her fair share of ups and downs. Sure, I'd heard to rumors . . . that her marriage to her college sweetheart had ended because of his affair with a neighbor. That she was single again and dating . . . had become a flight attendant. But it was all 'hear say' -- stuff other people told me. I put little weight into it because I really wanted to hear all of this from her. I wanted to know how she was doing -- not how other people said she was doing. So, this weekend, on our first face-to-face get together in more than 6 years, I had to ask. I had to hear what had happened.

I got what I wanted . . . but it wasn't what I expected. I expected her to be sad . . . or maybe uncomfortable . . . talking about it. But she was, instead, very calm, matter-of-fact, and honest about the whole thing.

The college sweetheart that my friend had married seemed like such a great guy. She was (is!) a great girl. They bought a great house in a great suburb. Like I said, when I left her, her life was . . . great.

But then he cheated on her, only a year or so into their marriage. He cheated on her. And I don't mean some one-night-stand or a whimsical evening of too much drinking and very poor decision making. He had a year long affair with a woman who lived on their street. A woman my friend knew well and had actually introduced to her husband.


She didn't exactly catch the two in the act of infidelity, but she knew what was going on. Tosseled sheets on a mis-made guest bed were all she needed to find to know that something was not right in her house. She confronted him, he denied it . . . to the point of accusing her of being certifiably 'crazy' to have such thoughts. This went on for several months, during which my dear friend knew her husband was lying to her.

And then, after having enough of it, she left. She got up the courage and left him. Him, her house, her dog . . . she left it all. A few months later, they were divorced.

"And then, there I was . . ." she told me. "Kinda like, 'NOW what am I going to do?' "

That sentence . . . the way she said that . . . I just was in awe at what she had been through. That feeling of 'NOW What?' is the scariest, most terrifying feeling I could imagine. She had to pick herself up and start all over. After spending her entire college career with this man, after starting her adult life with him. There she was, mid-twenties, looking for a place to live, a job, a whole new life.

I don't know if I would be strong enough to make it through something so incredibly difficult. I don't know that I could face that. The way she must have felt . . . to find the mis-made bed and just know that something was wrong. I wanted to cry as we sat together on my couch and she told me her story. She didn't deserve that. It wasn't fair. I hate that she ever EVER had to experience that.

I am so proud of my friend for what she did and how she handled it all. She didn't curl up in a ball and let time pass her by . . . she didn't mourn for her old life and wish she could to back to 'the way things were'. She didn't go back to that man, the cheater . . . which is the most impressive of all. It would have been so easy to go back . . . so much more comfortable to go back to someone so familiar.

Nope, not her. She left, and she didn't even look back. Instead, she started a new life for herself. She moved around Atlanta, made new friends, started a new career in the airline industry. She enjoyed her life in a way that she had not before . . . as a single girl with nobody to worry about but herself.

I envy her strength. That she could do what she did when she did it . . . in your 20s, when life is so uncertain and unclear . . . without all the extra uncertainties she had to endure. She was a brave, brave girl.

The Happy Ending: my dear friend is now very, very happily remarried to someone who seems to truly adore her. After a few years on her own, enjoying her life and finding herself . . . she found a new person with whom she can share herself. She's pregnant with her first child and so excited to start that new chapter in her life in just a couple of months.

She made it through all of that mess with the first husband, and she came out on top. She came out stronger, happier, and smarter than I think she ever thought she would. She's fantastic.

She's reading this today . . . and I hope she knows that I am so, so glad to be a part of her life again. I'm really so glad to have her as a friend, and so proud of her for all she has done in the last few years.

To her: I had to blog about you -- I hope you don't mind! You know I have nothing but respect for you, my friend. I wanted you to know how our visit impacted me . . . and that you are an amazing person.

Favorite Photo Friday, Week 3

The Dahlby Family, Athens GA, December 2006

My family at my UGA Graduate School Graduation. This picture . . . I had in my head exactly what I wanted it to look like. And I got exactly what I'd pictured . . . how often does that happen?

It now sits proudly on a shelf in a frame with the UGA seal. It reminds me of how hard I worked those 18 months to get that degree . . . and how much I hope to use it again one day.

A Bad Girl

Okay, so how do you discipline a toddler? We are having a rough week here, and I need some advice.

We are trying the time out method, but it doesn't seem to work that well. There is no problem with Meg going to time out . . . in fact, she goes willingly. And 95% of the time, she stays as she should and apologizes when she is allowed to get up.

The problem, I realized just today, is that she's not really taking a 'time out' from anything that she cares about. She's only 2, she has no siblings to play with, and she doesn't really understand the whole idea of 'thinking about your actions' while she's doing her time. When she goes to time out, it's just something else to do . . . it is not working as a punishment. There is nothing bad about time out for Meg.

Yesterday, while at a friend's house, one of Meg's friends was put in time out for biting. THAT 'time out' worked because there was activity going on -- fun activity -- that the little girl was removed from. She wanted to play, but she had to sit in time out for her actions. It was a true punishment.

At our house, there is really not a whole lot going on that Meg is missing out on when she's in time out. So, how is that really going to influence her to act appropriately?

We've started taking away some of the things we know that she loves as a result of the fruitless 'time outs'. Ugh, this method of discipline is NO fun . . . not to mention the fact that Meg really doesn't have much that we can hold over her head at only 2 years old. Sure, when she's 8 we can ground her and 16 we'll take away the car . . . but at 2?

I've mentioned before that we take away bedtime stories when she is bad in the evenings. If she misbehaves at the table, no stories after bath. Great . . . but if she has already lost her stories by 6pm in the evening, what can we threaten her with for the rest of the night?

Tonight, Meg was awful during "bath and bed" time. She stood up in the tub (a big no-no here), she ran away when we tried to dress her, she climbed into bed with her Kate and antagonized her, she talked back to Daddy. That was certainly enough for the loss of bedtime stories. When she kept on and on, what we were supposed to do?!

We took her buddy Diego (a 3 foot stuffed doll that sleeps with her) out of the bed. She was not allowed to sleep with him tonight. THAT WORKED. Suddenly, she was upset and realized that she was going to lose something very precious to her. Meg cried when we took Diego out of the room . . . oh, how she cried. And when she was crying, you know what I was thinking?

"Good, maybe we are finally getting through to her."

Am I awful? I was nearly glad that she was upset . . . hoping that she can somehow learn that we mean what we say. That she needs to check her behavior and act like a good girl. I felt that maybe we had found something that had gotten through to her. What else could we do?!

We will see how tomorrow goes. The last few days have been far from fun at the Dahlby house. This morning started bad, so I knew today would be a doozy. With the exception of a little peace while Meg was at school, it certainly was. Hopefully a lonely night of Diego-less sleep will help Meg realize that the world does not revolve around her and that Mom and Dad are still in charge around here.

If you have any tips or words of encouragement, I invite you to share . . . I'm at the end of my rope.

The Green-Eyed Monster

Lately, I've been finding myself jealous of other people. Lots of other people . . . for lots of reasons. One could easily attribute this new found jealousy to the hurdles and speed bumps I've been experiencing in my own daily life. After all, the grass is always greener . . . and it seems to glow a sweet, neon green when your life seems tougher than usual.



I've found myself jealous of my 25 year-old sister in law. In the last few months, she's fallen in love with a darling guy, and they are already talking about marriage. They've gallivanted around the country this spring and summer . . . going to weddings and meeting each other's friends and family . . . each proudly displaying the other on his/her arm. I'm so, SO happy for Julie and all the fun that she's experiencing, but I am jealous at the same time.



I'm jealous of the point in her life that she's at . . . a new relationship, looking forward to a wedding, everything so new and shiny. I remember that so well. It's a glorious time in your life, truly it is. No responsibilities, blind love with no inhibitions, the giddiness, the excitement. Any of us that are married and have been for a while can look back on that time in our own lives with such fond memories. And . . . I think we could all agree that that time is over. It's a little sad . . . and it makes me a little jealous of what she gets to enjoy right now in her life.


When I look back at myself and why I'm jealous, I know it's meerly jealousy . . . and nothing more. I know with confidence that I am exactly where I want to be in my life. I might be envious of the 'newness' in my sister-in-law's relationship . . . but where Jim and I are in our marriage is even better than the beginning of any relationship. We've been through 7 years together, the ups and downs, the children . . . it's priceless and I wouldn't change a thing for the world. Still, I think it's OK for me to be a little jealous of Julie . . . what she's got is fun and exciting, too.



One of my dearest friends was recently promoted to an Assistant Principal at the school where she teaches, and she began her new role just a few weeks ago on the first day of school. She called me that evening to give me the full report on how her day went, and I honestly had been waiting all day to hear from her. As I listened, I pictured in my mind what her day might have been like . . . the chaos, the confusion, the fun, the thrill of taking on a new job. I sighed and told her as she finished up her story, "Ahhh . . . I'm jealous." What had I done that day? Taken the girls to the pediatrician and to Target. My most outstanding accomplishment for that day -- as my friend took on a fantastic new job and about 500+ middle schoolers -- was completing my 4 loads of laundry.



I'm a stay-at-home-mother, and I love it. It is, undoubtedly, what I want to do for my family at this point in my life, and I've known that for quite some time now. But . . . I worked so hard to complete my graduate degree in elementary education . . . and hearing Tricia's tales-from-the-schoolyard make me so very envious of what she is doing with her life. I would love to be a teacher again one day, but today isn't the day. So, I look at Tricia with jealously running through my mind, much the same way that my grocery lists, naptimes, and household chores run through my brain as I look down the barrel of another day at home. Tricia has a sense of accomplishment that comes from her job, she has adult contact daily, and she helps provide for her family in ways that I simply do not. I envy that. And maybe she envies my time at home . . . who knows. We both have it pretty good, in my opinion . . . just in very different ways.



We all look at other people's lives and sometimes wish we were more like them, had what they have, or did what they did. If you are honest with yourself, you know how true this is. I think it's OK . . . perfectly normal, really. As long as we take a minute to understand the root of the jealousy and to understand that our own lives are great in their own right, jealousy of others is nothing more than a passing fancy. Julie doesn't have the wonderfulness that comes from the stability I have in my life, and Tricia has to manage the exhaustion that comes from working a full day then returning home to care and love her two boys. Both of those are hard to deal with, I realize. I'm jealous of them in some ways, but in other ways I'm not. My life has it's goods along with it's bads, too. All of our lives do.

The Green Eyed Monster rears his ugly head . . . but I know that it's only temporary.

Do You Ever Want To . . .

Do you ever want to . . .


Scratch your eyeballs out from reading the same story again and again? Or hide your child's favorite book because you can't stand it even one more time?


I do. Meg, God love her, is such a book worm. I hear you already . . . it will increase her vocabulary, help her in school, it's so fantastic to have a kid who reads . . . yes, yes. But seriously. "Peter Pan" is stashed in a kitchen cupboard because if I have to read about Tinkerbell being jealous of Wendy or of "Pakin' Hook" (Meg's name for Captain Hook) being terrified of the looming crocodile . . . well, I'm not sure what might happen. I'll give it back . . . someday. Maybe when Jim is home so that someone else can read it to her.


Tell that other mom to SHUT UP because her kid is really not that great?

Last week, when volunteering at Meg's preschool, I introduced myself to another mom from her class. This other mom seemed very nice . . . until we started talking about how great the school year is going and how much we like the teacher.

Me: "I think it is going so well for Meg. I was so shocked . . . Meg counted to 10 all by herself in the back seat of the car on the way home from school last week! That was the first time I'd heard her to it all on her own. Ms. Becky sure is great . . . "

Other mom, interrupting:

"Well, (my daughter) is a little bit older. I mean, she knows the entire alphabet already. She can recognize all the letters, uppercase and lowercase, sings the song without error . . . so I think she's getting a lot of her education at home . . . "

REALLY? 'Cause your "older" daughter is still in a DIAPER. (I really, really wanted to say that to this lady.)

Just let your kid misbehave?

I'm finding that consistency with discipline is exhausting. Completely draining. I know it's so important, though . . . and I know that without consistency, we'd have chaos around here. Meg (and her little sister, in her own time) needs to understand who is in charge at our house, and being consistent with our rules and our discipline is the best way to help foster that understanding.

But lately, Meg has just been testing me. I think she does this every now and again . . . a few days at a time . . . to make sure that Mommy still means what she says. And when she goes through these days, it really wears me out to be so strict with her. I DO mean what I say -- and she makes me walk the talk.

Last night at dinner, she pushed her food all around her plate with her hands, making quite a mess and was just being a two-year-old.

"Big girls do not play with their food like that, Meg. Look at me . . . I don't have any food on my hands because I'm being a big girl. I'm using my fork and eating politely."

(playing continues)

"C'mon now, Meg. You know how we behave at the table."

(playing continues)

"Meg, please stop. Mommy does not like it when you get silly at the dinner table."

At this point, I wanted to just let her do it. I didn't care anymore. What harm is there is making a mess at the table? Who cares?! UGH. After a long day of many rounds in time out, I just don't care how she acts at the table. But that voice in my head says, "Let your guard down now, and she'll really try to take over . . ."

So she continued, and eventually she lost her bedtime stories . . . meaning she went straight to bed after her bath. (That is our punishment for evening misbehavior -- and it works very well with the bookworm we have.) I hated it! I didn't want to take her stories away . . . I hated that she had chosen to act out. I wanted to read with her -- we had just gone to the library and gotten several new books we had not tapped into yet! But I stuck to my guns, and Meg took her punishment. In all honesty, I would much rather have just let her misbehave . . . I hate being the bad guy.

Not do a household chore knowing that your significant other will come home and do it for you?

Mmmmm . . . I'm guilty of this. Jim would agree: I do it often. When the dishwasher needs emptying, I will take a moment to think of the next time Jim will be home . . . if it's a reasonable amount of time, I leave the clean dishes in the washer and let some dished pile up in the sink. He'll take care of it when he gets home. I also let our mail pile up most weeks knowing that Jim will take the time to go through it all when he gets back from his trip. Call me lazy . . . or a mom-of-two who has enough stuff she doesn't want to do and isn't afraid to pass the buck.

Go back in time and tell a friend, "If I had only known . . . "

Now that I have my two beautiful children, I look at all my other friends who had 2 before us and think, "Wow, I had no idea what their life was like!"

When you have only one kid, you can't possibly fathom how much bringing home a second baby will rock your world. You just can't. Just like you couldn't understand how much baby # 1 would change your life before it actually happened.

I now find myself apologizing to my friends with two (or more) kids. I had no idea what I was asking of them when I invited them to a playdate, or when I called all frantic with the responsibilities of my ONE kid and said, "I'm coming over!" I didn't know what, "Hey, let's go out to dinner with our families" meant to a family of four. I didn't know how much different from my life their life was . . . I think I figured we were all in the same boat because we had kids. I now think there is a different boat for families with one kid and families with more than one. I'm not saying one is any better or worse . . . just very different. It's hard to explain. But those of you juggling the needs of multiple kids can relate.

So, to my friends with more than one -- I'm sorry. I didn't know. But now I do.

Watch your baby sleep?

All the time. My baby and my big girl. Every single night -- without fail -- I get myself ready for bed, pull down my sheets, then out head out of my room and down the hall. I go into Kate's room first and peek at her for a minute. I usually reach out and touch her soft, fuzzy little head, and she sometimes stirs a little or makes a tiny baby sound. I look at her in her peaceful sleep for just a minute, then exit as quietly as I can. I walk straight down to Meg's room and open her door with the greatest of care. Sometimes the noise wakes her slightly, and she stirs . . . and I back out of the door without too much of a peek. But on the nights when I don't wake her, I walk in and watch her for a minute. It's the last thing I do each and every night. And I always go to bed thinking how lucky we are to have our two girls, all tucked in tight and dreaming away.

Let's Talk Politics

Only a few people know that I -- Ms. Saleswoman, turned 3rd grade teacher, turned photographer -- started out my career at the University of Georgia as a Political Science major. It's true. I was accepted to UGA with the intention of studying political science . . . what I was going to do with that degree, I didn't know at the age of 18. That question alone may have been why I decided to change to a Marketing major. I changed my major during freshman orientation . . and the rest, as they say, is history.

During this time of politics -- a no-incumbent election year that is quite exciting and full of new experiencing for Americans -- I find myself drifting back to my days of political interest. I used to love this stuff. I volunteered for Zell Miller's governor's campaign while in high school, and I begged my parents to put a "Mike Yeager for Sheriff" sign in our yard at the age of 16. Of course, back in those days, my OWN money and my OWN family were not what kept me interested in politics . . . I didn't have either. I just enjoyed the campaigning, the issue discussion, and the excitement of it all. I loved government and all that it entailed.

Now, when I say 'I love government', please do not mistake me for a Democrat. I will admit wholeheartedly that I am a Republican. Pin the red/white/blue elephant on my chest, and I'll wear it with pride. I cried like a baby during Regan's funeral -- hell, my cat is named Reagan (and that was not by chance). Do I agree with everything on a Republican ticket? Of course not. By by and large, my beliefs are shared by the Republican community.

All year long, I've watched the news and not been too psyched about who the Republicans had selected for the 2008 presidential nomination. John McCain, bless his VFW heart, just didn't relate to me . . . I couldn't find anything to get excited about. I figured that I probably agreed with some of his thoughts (since we are of the same political party), and I like that he has many more years of experience than his competitor . . . but I wasn't really 'into' the whole political thing. I probably would have just voted Republican and hoped for the best.

Then I saw Sarah Palin speak last week at the Republican National Convention.



Now I want a "McCain/Palin" T Shirt.


Something about her addition to the McCain ticket calls out to me. I can relate to her. She seems so down-to-earth, so real . . . and she's a mom just like me. I feel that someone like her in the White House does represent my vote, which was what I did NOT feel when it was just a John McCain ticket. I have things in common with Sarah Palin. That makes her a little less of a politician and a little more of a real person in my eyes. That's what I'd like in the White House . . . a real person that represents real Americans. Not somebody who is showboating or making a Hollywood extravaganza out of the political race. Just a regular old mom, and that's what Sarah Palin is to me. Someone who started out in this whole political arena by joining the PTA.

I respect her. For what she's done, for what she wants to do. I look up to her and think, "Wow. If she can do that, I could, too." I have really taken a liking to Ms. Palin and all that she has to offer to our country.

I know -- if I vote McCain/Palin, I'm voting for MCCAIN as President. Although he may be really old, he will still be our President for the next 4 years . . . not his running mate. Because I now want to vote for McCain so adamantly, I have spent a better part of today's precious computer time reading the McCain website and understanding his stance on the important issues this election holds. If I'm going to start supporting Palin, I gotta support McCain, too. I've read about healthcare, about his stand on taxes, energy . . . the important things in our country right now . . . and I find that I agree with much of what he has to say. I would not say that I agree with all of it -- even though the voice shouting "Vote for Palin!" inside of me would like me to. Even though I may not 100% agree, at least I have educated myself enough to know that a vote for McCain (and Palin!) is a vote for many of my own beliefs.

I probably never would have even taken any time to get to know these issues, had it not been for my love of Palin. She's done a lot for John McCain . . . I imagine I'm not the only one out there saying, "Hey, she's pretty cool . . . now what do they stand for as a President/VP team?" I'm not the only mom out there that wants to vote for Sarah with some knowledge behind my vote. And having someone like her to generate interest in the Republican side of this presidental race is exactly what the party intended -- and desperately needed, quite honestly. Well done (as usual), Republicans.


Now I think I'm ready for my T Shirt. Yes, I should educate myself on what Obama stands for -- just so I can defend myself if I'm harrassed when wearing a shirt that makes such a statement. I'll find time to learn a bit more about the competition as the race continues over the next two months. But for now, I'll just order my shirt and keep checking the McCain site to see of Palin is coming to Georgia any time soon.

Oh yeah, and I wonder . . . do you think Hillary is worried about her 2012 campain? Two women running for President . . . now that would be interesting.

My Dirty Little Secret

Photoshop. Adobe Photoshop CS2, to be exact. That's my secret. I could not live without it.

Granted, my camera is fantastic -- and yes, I know how to use nearly all of the features. I have learned a lot about cameras and photography, so NO, I don't shoot on auto. I also must admit that I have a knack when it comes to capturing great shots of kids and their families, and composition is very important when it comes to good photos. And DANG if Photoshop isn't the hardest program in the world to figure out! So, I can't give my PC all the credit for my work. I work very hard, too.

But, OH, the wonders that Photoshop can do!

Example:

SOOC -- lingo for "Straight Out of the Camera" -- the image exactly as I captured it.

Version #1 -- just a boost of color in photoshop

Version #2 -- Meg, vintage style (seems this is very popular in photography these days!)

Version #3 -- The BW -- I take every shot in color and turn to bw. And I've learned, there is a significant difference between a GOOD bw and a not-so-good bw.

Another example:

The result is just amazing. Like I said -- it's not everything to digital photography -- but, man, it sure does help.

And now you know my dirty little secret.

What to Post About?

I had a few things on my mind to post about . . .

Our dinner club, which we've been a part of now for 5 years. We all got together Sunday afternoon . . . and I mean ALL of us, which is 10 adults and 7 children. It's funny how our 'club' has gone from Saturday night gatherings that lasted until 1am to Sunday afternoon meetings that start mid-afternoon. It's been so much fun to watch the families grow and to share so much of each other's lives in this ever-changing period we are are in. I enjoy every 'meeting' we have.

Kate's incessant . . . and I mean continuous, monotonous, headache-causing . . . crying when in the car. It's constant. If she's not asleep (and it seems that she rarely is while driving), she is wailing from her seat. It absolutely is enough to make you want to pull your ears right off your head. Add to that a 2 year old yelling, "Kate CRYING!" and "Don't CRY KATE!" from the backseat, and it is just about enough to make you pull over, jump out, and run screaming from the car. I've thought about doing it, trust me. Jim, Meg, and I just returned from a 40 minute car ride, with audio pleasures by Ms. Kate Allison, herself . . . during which we thanked Meg many times for her patience with all the screaming. This phase flat out SUCKS, and I can't wait for it to end.

Georgia Football. And the fact that Meg can spell G-E-O-R-G-I-A. Yes, yes -- I am watching football. I know I haven't posted about it, but I will. I'm every bit as excited about my now # 2 Dawgs as I've been every year . . . just a little more to juggle in life as I watch it. Yesterday was a hoot . . . trying to watch the game with Meg, Kate, Jim, and my dad . . . going up and down the stairs a million times for different reasons . . . putting Kate to sleep, Meg to nap, feeding Kate, entertaining Meg . . . I'm surprised my dad stayed for the whole thing! But, I did manage to watch the game and loved seeing my Dawgs doing so well. More posts on the Dawgs as the season goes on, I'm certain.

But no, none of those topics could trump what I found when rifling through some photos this evening. Check this out:

Jim and Meg, August 2007

Jim and Meg, September 2008

Jim's weight loss is ASTOUNDING. I saw the new picture and remembered the older one . . . the immediately pulled up the comparison. It's amazing. I remember Jim hating that picture of him from the end of last summer . . . even though I thought it was a cute daddy-daughter pic. Now I bet even HE is glad we have that one so we can 100% appreciate the change he has made.

I'm very, VERY proud of you, Jim. It's been a long 9 months -- but LOOK at how your hard work has paid off! Fantastic, fantastic work, Love.

As for me, my WW (Weight Watchers in short hand) update has me at 155 lbs. I'm getting there! Just about 10 pounds to go until pre-baby weight. But, I don't think I'll be jumping back into my old clothes, even at 145 lbs. I'm noticing more and more that my body is just different . . . mostly related to the spreading of my lovely hips. (MMM, thank you, Kate.) They'll go back . . . but WW can't help me with that one. Only time. Well, I've got time, so I'll just wait it out. At least if I know I'm not heavier than I was before baby, I'll feel better. (Right?)

Hope you and yours had a great weekend. I went a little bit crazy with some picture taking, so I'm sure that you'll be seeing that as the week goes on . . . that will give me something to post about for sure.

Favorite Photo Friday, Week 2

Meg Dahlby, Marietta GA, August 22, 2007

This is one of those that I took, looked at in the camera viewfinder, and thought: Priceless. Perfect. Frame-able.

And pretty much ever since the day it was taken, this picture has been hanging in our upstairs hallway. I see it every morning on my way to get Meg out of bed, every time I do my laundry, each time I visit Kate in her room. I will probably never take it down (even at this stage where I do need to remove some photos of Meg to make room for Kate!).

It represents a lot to me. It was taken 5 days after losing Baby #2, and I always remember how I was feeling at that time. I remember how smiley she was that afternoon . . . how lucky I felt to have her . . . and that this was taken while she was sitting in her highchair eating lunch. Her little teeth poking through on the bottom . . . I remember wondering if she'd ever get any more down there!

Just a sweet photo full of precious memories for me. A favorite, for sure.

Embracing It

I decided I am ready to embrace my mommy-ness, 100%.

BEFORE

AFTER

I cut off (what feels like) all of my hair. And I really, truly like it. I wasn't sure if I would like it at all . . . I've never EVER had hair this short . . . but now I do and I do like it. Jim thinks it's very cute . . . and since he is the one who has to look at it all the time, I'm glad for that.

It all started on Saturday. I went for a hair cut because I decided that I wanted a style . . . no more long, layered, and straight for me. I wanted something different, something a little more grown up and a little less 'sorority girl'. And, when you are unhappy with your body shape, changing your hair seems to be the only thing you can do to make yourself feel bettter. (Trust me, I did this same thing post-Meg also!)

I saw my hair girl . . . and she was somewhat conservative with the cut. She only cut it about 1/2 way between my chin and my shoulders, not too much layering. She suggested I go home and style it myself for a few days before cutting it any shorter. She didn't want to totally freak me out with the new style.

I knew on the ride home it wasn't short enough for what I had in mind. I looked a little too much like the kid on the Dutch Boy Paint can. I wanted a little more Katie Holmes in my new 'do. I made an appointment and went back to the salon last night, requesting shorter and more layers. The result, as you can see, is a short bob with lots of 'stacking' and layers.

It's cute, it's short, it's fresh, and it is totally a 'mom haircut'. And I really, really am liking it. Last I checked, I'm a mom . . . so I guess the style fits.

Your compliments may begin now . . . :)

Spitting Up

Kate spits up. A LOT.

Yesterday, Jim and I were changing our bed sheets at 5:45am because she had wretched all over our bed. This is NOT the first time this has happened. . . and we even have taken to placing a towel under us during in-the-bed feedings. This morning, I fed her practically sitting straight up in her rocking chair, and we had no issues. I thought yesterday was an isolated incident.

Then this afternoon during lunch, she brought back up SO much of what she had just eaten 30 minutes earlier. All over herself and her bouncy chair.

I cried.

I hate it. I hate it because I don't know what's causing it. I don't know if it bothers her. I'm guessing it doesn't, based on the big smiles I was getting from her while cleaning her up earlier today. But who doesn't mind throwing up? I also hate it because I never know when it will happen . . . sometimes she's like an erupting volcano, and most of the time nothing comes up at all.

I've already limited my dairy . . . drastically. Soy creamer in my coffee, 'tofutti' sour cream on my baked potatoes. But last night I did enjoy a bowl of ice cream (no added sugar, only 2 points on WW!), and I think that must have been what did it because nothing else seems to trigger the spitting up episodes. So, that means even less dairy for me . . . and definitely no more ice cream. I'm certainly not at the stage where I'm considering formula . . . I don't think our issue is that drastic just yet. I'm at the stage where I'm trying to do what it takes to make it through this without so many incidents.

I'm all upset about the spitting up. I wish I knew when it will stop so she (and I) wouldn't be so miserable. Instead, I'll continue to hold her like a ticking time bomb after each feeding and hope that this isn't the time she's going to do it.

Poor Katy-did.

Time

Kate, my peanut, is 11 weeks old today. Only a couple more weeks, and I know I'm going to lose count of her age in weeks. Only a couple more weeks, and I know she's going to become a true 'baby' and no longer a newborn.


She's moving into a fun stage . . . entertaining herself and us more and more each day. She's loving her mobile and her play gym, and anything dangling in front of her is no longer safe from her bats and grabs. Kate is so smiley . . . always flashing those gums at us and making us laugh. I love every minute of the time I have with her (just her), and I love to see her interacting with Meg.



I know we all say it -- but time goes just too fast when you have little ones. I realize, of course, that it goes by just as quickly. . . you just notice it so much more with babies and kids running around. They change so fast, and no matter what, you can't stop it. I don't know how Kate is already nearly 3 months old, how her big sister is past the 2 year mark, how I've been married now for 5 years.


The passage of time is a strange thing . . . how it changes us and makes us different. My dad tells me that he feels the exact same way he did when he was about 20 years old . . . only the mirror has changed. His outlook, thoughts, ideas . . . his mind . . . all the same, but now in a 55 year old body.


I know what he means. I'm just 30, but I can say that I'm already experiencing the same feelings. I feel the same way I did when I was in college . . . just more mature and a little smarter now (at least, that's what I like to think). And the mirror, of course, reflects a different person than it did 10 years ago. It's going to be strange to feel this way when I'm 40 or 50 . . . but, it will happen. And probably way before I am ready for it.


Today, I think I'll just hang out with the girls and see if I can hold time back for a little bit. I don't want to miss out on anything . . . so I think it's time to take a break and hold on to what I've got. If only for just one day.

Saturday at our House

Because everyone enjoys videos . . . here is just a random Saturday morning at our house. This was shot about a month ago . . . the girls are lying in our bed in their jammies . . . and we were enjoying our family.






So . . . after watching that . . . do you think Meg loves being a big sister or what? She can't ever seem to get enough of Kate. When she's away from Kate, she asks about her constantly. When she returns, Kate is the first thing she wants to see. She kisses her. She hugs her. She just can't get enough.



And . . . after watching that . . . do you hear what a chatter box Meg is? Once she started talking, I'm not sure she has stopped.



Kate, she's just a beauty. She takes it all in stride. Meg kisses her, hugs her, can't get enough . . . and Kate just smiles in return.



Saturday mornings around here are full of life, and we certainly enjoy every minute of it.

Back to Work

Yep, it's been about 14 weeks, and I'm going back to 'work' again.

I had 2 shoots last week, and I'm still working on the editing. The fact that I have taken TWO weeks to edit them doesn't bode well . . . I used to edit in one week's time. Oh well. I don't charge enough for people to be allowed to complain. At least, that's how I look at it.

Here are a few shots from the recent sessions . . . it doesn't help that I don't have my favorite lens right now (still being repaired from the pool incident), but the shoots went OK, just the same.

If I sound mad about the idea of going back to work, make no mistakes -- I'm not mad or upset at all. I'm looking forward to it, honestly. Just feeling a bit uninspired. I wanted to do so much more with photography while I was on my break, but . . . life with two kids and a traveling husband made that a little harder than I had anticipated. I'll just have to inspire myself as I go, I guess.

It's all OK. I'll go back to 'shooting' and I'm confident the clients will be happy. After all -- I have at least one thing going for me: it's hard to keep people from loving photos of their kids.