1. You often experience more that 5 emotions in a 2 minute period... (this is a fun one for the whole family to enjoy:))


2. When they have questions, your kids and husband approach you like they are getting ready to feed a wild animal because they're not sure which of mommies several personalities will answer them.


3. You get a crazed psycho smile on your face while saying things like... "Oh you'll eat it... You'll eat it and you'll like it." (this could just be a symptom of a mommy funk as well)


4. You forget what you're talking about mid sentence. (see also ...ummmm ..... "mommy brain")


5. You tell yourself your just PMSy... for 12 weeks straight. 


6. You have left the house with 2 different flip flops and mascara on only one eye more than once. (Again reference "mommy brain"... as symptoms may over lapse.)

Some of you may be thinking ... didn't you just write a post about mommy "something" with a picture of you pretending to pick your nose... well yes, yes I did... ish... The last post was about the "MOMMY FUNK" aka "mommy's had enough and she's going to go all Thelma and Louise on you if you don't sit down and stop trying to bludgeon your brother with a golf club". (or is that just how I get my mommy funk on??) Anyway "MOMMY BRAIN" is much different.. and I'm sure you've all experienced it. It's more like the "I can't finish a thought or form words, I just want to go veg in front of real house wives with a bag of cheetos and a drink straight up on the rocks" state of mind.



Just in case you need a list... here are some (but not all) of the red flag indicators that you might be suffering from the all too common "MOMMY BRAIN"

1. You call someone and as soon as they pick up you a) forget who you are calling b) you space why you are calling in the first place or c) both a and b are true.


2. While driving a friend's son home that has lived by you for 6 years you end up almost on the other side of town before you remember that you forgot where you were going... (did you wonder what took us so long yesterday Em?)


3. You call one of your children by every other name including the dog's name before you can remember who you're talking to... for example, "Darn it, Sawyer, Thatcher, Sawyer, Finley... CREW!!! It's not OK to poop on the trampoline!"(again maybe that's just my house??)


4. When it's 2:15 and you wonder why you have so much free time, only to get a call from the bus driver that still has your child because you forgot to meet them at the bus stop. (don't worry Abber's I won't forget Matty today:)


5. You can't find your phone, the remote or monkey #3's pacifier until dinner when you are taking the chicken out of the freezer to thaw... 


6. You commit to, oh I don't know, your local "dancing with the stars" fundraiser even though your only claim to fame is writing about how much poop you have to deal with on a daily basis and your only dance experience comes after several glasses of wine at weddings... aye aye aye... seriously the girls in chile laughed at me for six months because they had never met anyone who actually could move their hips LESS than I could!! 


7. You don't notice that your kids left the slider open until you get home 3 hours later... causing you to have to chase not 1... not 2 ... but t3 large grey squirrels out of your house in one day.        

(Just a side note... I hate squirrels! A friend just told me she heard Sarah Jessica Parker calls them "rats in fancy clothes"... I need that stitched on a pillow! I should explain that squirrel #3 wasn't discovered until 11:30 last night and took us an hour to get out of our bedroom. It was full on Grizwald family pandemonium! At one point it got around a barrier we made out of a close hamper and a dresser drawer and it came straight at me... of course I screamed, almost peed and fell backwards into our tv shelf... I now bare the battle scars of an encounter with a Coker Butte squirrel. I HATE SQUIRRELS! -Rant Complete-)



Ok obviously these red flags might be specific to my days... but if you experience anything like it, you might in fact suffer from the dreaded mommy brain! Share your red flags here... help spread awareness about this scary disease! :):)

...psst... she has three boys too... so she's familiar with the funk!

"...you have to..."

Sometimes I resent the things I "have" to do in a day... and for no real reason at all I get myself into a mommy funk. So when my three year old says for the 7000th time "Mom, You have to..." instead of correcting him and modeling the words he should say... I get right down on his level and say... "I don't HAVE to do anything." (Insert head bob and finger wave here) ... at which point he ignores my attitude and repeats himself... and I just end up doing what he's asking me to do anyway ... but with a grudge. It's funny how fast I forget how blessed I am to HAVE to do so many mundane and sometimes down right disgusting things... hey I live with four boys remember:):)



It was two years ago this past Sunday that my husband CJ and I moved our family back to Southern Oregon. We left our house still on the market just outside of Portland and lost every dime of our savings we had invested in that place. It was the lowest point in our lives together... a newborn baby and two special boys who had just been diagnosed with PDD-NOS (a form of autism). We were broke, broken and honestly at times I felt hopeless... A lot of you already know this story... already know my heart ache of mourning the sons I thought we were going to have and learning to love and celebrate the amazing boys God made them to be... many of you already know that we lost everything and lived with my parents for nine months relying on food stamps and family to help us through one of the darkest chapters of our lives. It was humiliating and earth shattering and beautiful all at once.



It's amazing how things can change in two years. I wish I could say we weren't still reeling from the aftermath of that disaster. What I can say is that if I had the chance to wipe it all out.. to get to skip that portion of our lives... I WOULDN'T THINK OF IT.



While I don't wish dark times on ANYONE... ever... I have to say it's what grows us... it's what gives us perspective and grace for people and situations we may have stood in judgement of before. Without pain I don't think we can fully experience compassion... without struggle and suffering we really have no reason to grow.

...my love...

My husband and I have decided that we want to do something every 3rd of July to remember where we were and to marvel at how far God has brought us. How the rough stuff bound us together... if even just barely by a thread at times... we got through it with a deeper connection and love than we ever knew possible. And that my friends is worth celebrating!



I love remembering the fact that it was only two short years ago that I was praying for this very home... even knowing about the black mold, old windows, draftiness and bug "situation"... I dreamed of how our family would grow and thrive in this place... and we have. It's remembering July 3rd, 2009 that brings me out of my "mommy funks" and reminds me to celebrate all the the things I GET to do for my friends and family and amazing boys who are doing better than ever.



Perspective is everything... it's so easy to lose... and sometimes so painful to gain. What do you GET to do today?

My treasure from Serendipity in Bend this weekend "Living the Minivan Dream"!

I drive a 2002 heavily "loved" minivan. It has war wounds from spilled soy milk and rogue french fries that have been petrified between the seats for years. It has a bit of a large ding on the front passenger side where I ran into our garage one day while texting and driving a bit too fast. (eeek...no kids in the car thank goodness:) It's pushing 200K miles and the automatic sliding door has been transformed into my daily workout since it takes all 160 pounds of me to close it each and every time we want it to work... I am in every sense {LIVING THE MINIVAN DREAM}... and it's only now that I can wear that badge with honor.



Last week on Mother's Day my little sister and I were swapping war stories of our destructive children and sleep depravation when my mom chimed in and said. "I know I had my melt downs when you kids were growing up... but I really LOVED my job as a stay at home mom... it doesn't really seem like you girls like it." I was stunned and hurt, and while my mom wasn't meaning to be disrespectful or hurt me... her words cut me deep and I cried myself to sleep that night.  I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs that she didn't understand... that I love my kids but that didn't mean that I had to love the endless laundry and accidents and potty training and sibling rivalry... I knew my defense was weak though and as a mother of 5, every part of her understood my feelings of frustration and wondering if sleep would ever be something I experience EVER again. Every part of her knew the darkness that creeps in from time time, telling me that my only worth in life is as a maid, servant and "cook"(or in my case we'll call it a "microwave technician")... and maybe her words wouldn't have hurt so much if my husband hadn't said the same thing to me just a few weeks ago... I was defensive because I wondered if there really was a small piece of truth to it.



This past weekend I was able to go on my first EVER in the history of the world {MOM'S WEEKEND}. It was awesome and refreshing... we ate great food and drank good wine. More meaningful than anything though were the amazing conversations we had reminding me how blessed I am to wear the badges of chief butt wiper, nose blower and meal maker... reminding me how blessed I am to bear the marks of motherhood and how important my job of raising my three little men really is...

...proof that the urban legend of a "Mom's Weekend" is more than a myth...

I think sometimes in my quest to be real and relatable I come across grouchy and complaining. While preaching on my soap box, that none of us have it all together, I get lost and forget so often to relate the beautiful redeeming parts of motherhood ...  the snuggling, and loves and giggles and beauty of seeing my boys love each other. What terrifies me is thinking that my kids, even for a nano second, might think I don't love my job as their mom. The bottom line is that we're at a rough stage in life... with 2 toddlers and a very special 6 year old... life on any given day is not easy. There are many days that I just cry to myself thinking... "This is NOT what I signed up for." But I know we won't be in this season for ever... and I do love my job and my family more than anything... they define me ... they make me a better person... they give me purpose and passion and laughter and so much unconditional love and forgiveness that I don't deserve. Before them, life was easier... life was less messy and complicated... life was carefree ... BUT BEFORE THEM... I WAS LOST...  AND BEFORE THEM... I DIDN'T HAVE A SONG.



Have you ever heard a song that actually changed your life... your perspective or your heart??? This one did just that to me this weekend! It was like a sweet punch in the face (if there is such a thing) reminding me that I am nothing without my four men... even with a crappy minivan and old rundown house and having to scrub UBS (Unidentifiable "Brown" Stuff) out of the carpet 17 times a day... I love my life and I am so completely blessed! I L-O-V-E JJ Heller! I just downloaded her CD "When I'm With You" because every song on it is AMAZING... and I especially love "Until You Came Along" listen to it and you'll know why:) Here's the song, press play (below) to listen to it... [Click Here to buy on iTunes]

We are trying to get Sawyer  mainstreamed... (meaning out of a self contained special ed classroom) and to start next year off in a class of typical peers... where he will most likely be a little disruptive ... he will most likely make people feel uncomfortable... he will most likely make more work for the teacher of 35 other students... but where he will also add to a culture of tolerance and acceptance. Where he will be able to teach others about celebrating small victories and  not taking the little things for granted. Where he will be a great friend to any child who will give him a chance... where he will light up the room with his smile and the love and unconditional acceptance my sweet boy gives to absolutely anyone who will give him the time of day.



It's amazing to me that in an era when our society is fighting so hard to prevent bullying in schools and to create a culture of tolerance and acceptance of different lifestyles, beliefs and religions... that the special needs community tends to be left behind. Our kids are showered with "services" and we're told that separating them from their peers is what's best for them.  We're told not to force our expectations on them... and to appreciate them for who they are... which is of course true with any child. But with special needs kids there is an "assumed incompetence" ... we are encouraged to push them and challenge them... but no too hard, lest we be accused of not accepting their situation... or who they are in life. After all... they do have autism... down's syndrome, CP... the list goes on... we shouldn't really expect too much right??



Today I am thinking of all of the mama's out there who are getting ready for their IEP's. Who are so tired and overwhelmed with fighting the "system" and playing the stupid games. Whether fighting for much needed services or fighting for someone... anyone... to see the value and gifts their child has to offer... that they're not just a drain and extra work and something to be dealt with... and that they don't need to be shoved aside in a separate class. I know this is a controversial subject and not every parent is for inclusion. With integration comes bullying and mean comments and the fear that their self esteem will be damaged... but if we don't teach kids how to be tolerant of differences and accepting of all people now... how are they going to be tolerant accepting adults? I think about what schools must have faced in the hight of the civil right movement in the 60's... what if nothing was ever done about segregation because it would have been too hard for the teachers, because it would cause disruption and require flexibility and patience from everyone... where would we be as a nation if an entire people group were left behind because it was just easier for everyone to keep things how they had been for years and years. That thought process wasn't acceptable then... and it's not now.



Think about taking time today to talk to you child about the kids in their school who experience disability... saying hi to someone who seems different... inviting them to play on the play ground or join them for lunch could make such a difference in that child's life AND in your child's life as well...



Here's a short video I made for a school who came along and partnered with Sawyer last year... they are proof that 7th and 8th graders do have the capacity to affect change and show true compassion...

I LOVE April 1st, but I hate lame April fool’s jokes. I will, however, probably tell my husband that I’m pregnant just for the heck of it. It’s my only tradition for this holiday (fyi, I am NOT).



You know what’s not a joke? I turned 29 two months ago. I look in the mirror and I see the same girl I’ve always seen, though at least I finally look like adult. My body doesn’t feel older. The only thing to signal that I am older is the passing of time. I have been married 7. 5 years to the love of my life and we have two daughters together. My baby sisters are gorgeous teenagers now, both of them taller than me. And my mom is gone.



There are other signs that I am aging. For now, they’re miniscule, but present if I look hard enough. And sometimes it really bothers me. But I heard a song a few weeks ago that changed my perspective like a slap in the face. It was a song that a young man had written to the Lord, and I cannot remember anything about it save for one line.



“You are writing out my story in the lines upon my face.” I thought about my face and the story written there.



In the summer I get freckles. I don’t really burn, and my tan is all due to the Native American blood that runs through my veins. Those freckles are a sign of my heritage and of summers spent in the Redding sun. Of days on the lake and afternoons by the pool teaching my sisters to swim. They remind me of barbecues in the sweltering heat with family members, some of which are gone now.



I have a few wrinkles around my eyes. Nick calls them my “smile lines” and says they’re cute. I’m not so sure about that, but if I have to have wrinkles I guess I would want it to be from smiling too much.





I’m sure some of those little lines are due to the lack of good sleep for the past 5 years. Nights of tossing and turning as the child inside of me kicked the crud out of my ribs, reminding me with every painful movement that they were alive and well. Nights of soothing a crying newborn, reminding me with every cry and whimper that they were healthy and growing and warm in my arms. Busy days of working and working and caring and cleaning on the heels of those sleepless nights. All the smiles and hugs and sloppy kisses and fragile “Lub you mamas” that make each sleepless night and exhausting day absolutely worth it. Call them smile lines or sleepless nights, I wear the story of my children proudly around my eyes.



I have brown hair, but hidden beneath some “dark mahogany” hair color are the beginnings of a few white strands that I have un-affectionately named “2010.” I had heard that trauma and stress could have a dramatic affect on a person’s body, and it’s true. I’m not too happy about this development. But they remind me of my mother, and that the loss of her was so great to me that it turned some of my hair white.





My story will continue to appear. Written out on each inch of my skin, in my hair, around my eyes. I’ll still do what I can to fight the aging process, but some things just can’t be changed. And in a way, I think I can cherish these changes. I have been altered by my experiences, my memories, my everydays. Everydays that make up a collection of a life for which I am more grateful than words.



I pray I will be privileged to one day become one of the really blessed. Those with aging bodies and gray hair sitting on their porch swings with their spouses (Cause I’m gonna have a porch!). I want to see my legacy running around in the lives of my children and grandchildren. I’m not as afraid of aging as I once was because I see it for what it is now. It means I’m alive!!!



Ladies, instead of picking apart your looks and mourning your younger years, thank God for the life that courses through your body. For the oxygen in your lungs. For the memories filling your brains. For the love bursting from your heart. And if you don’t have memories and love, then make it happen.



My daughters’ favorite movie is Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium. There’s a scene where Mahoney and Mr. Magorium sneak into a clock store and set all the clocks to go off at the same time. They hide behind a big grandfather clock and she says, “Now we wait.” Mr. Magorium responds with, “No. We breathe. We pulse. We regenerate. Our hearts beat. Our minds create. Our souls ingest. Thirty- seven seconds, well used, is a lifetime.”



Life is happening now. And the story is being written out in the lines upon our faces. Each new wrinkle is a testimony of all that God has brought us through, and all that He is taking us towards.



You may not be on a lake getting tan, but you are investing in the lives of the future generation. The future world changers are on your kitchen floor right now, spilling cheerios, pooping, drawing on the walls, yelling and climbing on the couches. The future president is running around in diapers somewhere. The future red cross workers are playing with cars and markers. The future pastors and teachers and mommies are begging their own mommies to let them jump in mud puddles. Or maybe they’re throwing their dinner at their mamas like my baby is doing right now.



Now take a deep breath. Draw that sweet air into your lungs, get off the computer, stop fussing over your looks and age, and go do something with your children, and if you have one, with your spouse. It’s April 1st, you are alive, and it’s time to celebrate.



{Want to Win My Giveaway?}

Share this post by clicking the "share this" button below and "like" Restore Innocence on facebook... by clicking HERE... then just come back here... to the blog... and tell us that you did it! 



Don't Forget to {Go Blue} for autism awareness month.. Check out these amazing mother warriors and do your part to spread awareness about autism this month!

Organizing Made Fun

Earth Monkey Moms

A Bowl Full of Lemons

Hello House, Goodbye Home

Pieces of My Heart

Caffeinated Autism Mom

Stats courtesy of Autism Society of Oregon

A couple of years ago our fence blew down from a big wind storm. The guy who came to fix it was huge...   Like 6'6 and over 300 lbs., he had a scruffy beard and wasn't overly friendly.  When he knocked on the door I opened it just wide enough to stick my head out... not because I was afraid of him, but because I have a 100 lb Burnese mountain dog and 3 boys who run for an open door like like prisoners on a jail break. I was talking out the details with him outside while using my remaining body parts to block any semblance of daylight so the wild beasts couldn't escape.  That lasted for all of 30 seconds before Sawyer, my oldest squeezed between my legs and made it onto the front porch. I should mention that Sawyer has always been HUGE for his age and at that point wasn't potty trained... oh and my kids are almost never dressed... ever... they hate clothes. Anyway, Sawyer squeezed out wearing only a pull-up... he was 4 then but he looked about 7. So he ran up to the big scary fence guy... wrapped his arms around him and said, "I've missed you so much". The guy didn't know what to do and awkwardly patted Sawyer on the shoulder and said, "Thanks"



April is autism awareness month...  so why should you care? Because Autism probably looks a lot different than you think it does... AND because 1 in 91 children nationwide are diagnosed with it every year. If you're new to this blog I should mention that Sawyer and Thatcher, my two oldest have PDD-NOS, a form of autism.  Sawyer knows no stranger, he has no clue about social boundaries and is what we call "hyper social". He loves to hug everyone and more than once has decided a stranger's boob also doubles as a great hand rest.



While I can think of hundred funny stories to share about my quirky guys, autism can also be a lonely place. Friends and family often pull away because they don't know how to help and honestly I find that it's easier just to stay home than it is to go out and brave the stares and comments of judgmental on lookers. After our middle son Thatcher was diagnosed I kind of went into a deep depression... there were nights (after he had spent ALL day screaming) when I honestly told God that it would be ok with me if I just didn't wake up in the morning... I know that's total drama, but I didn't know how I was going to make it one more minute... much less a life time with these special boys who needed so much more from me than I could give them. (OK, I promise you won't need prozac to finish this post.)



My point is... my boys are amazing... A-M-A-Z-I-N-G!!! They have given me so much perspective and they have taught me to find joy in every little victory... but there were days, and still are days, that are rough... and having the friends and family and support system that I have, is what gets me through. But I wonder how many thousands of moms go to bed at night hopeless, alone and lost... who desperately need a friend who just gets it... who doesn't judge or give them advice, but who can just be there. Someone who can accept and love all of the amazing things about her child... someone who see's how many gifts her little one has to offer. I'm writing this post because there might be a day when you need to step up and be that friend, that sister, that mother... who just gets it.



During the month of April not all of our posts on EMM will be about autism... but we will be going "blue" to show our support and spread awareness. We will also have links at the bottom of all of our posts to other mommy blogger who are also "Mother Warriors".  So check them out... read their posts and choose to educate yourself about a growing epidemic that possibly affects someone you know.



P.S. I am the biggest weenie ever and I hate public speaking but I am speaking on this exact same topic Friday night at an Autism Gala... your thoughts and prayers would be very appreciated since my pits get sweaty and I throw up a little in my mouth just thinking about it:)

My mom bought me Stitch'n Bitch the Happy Hooker... and I L-O-V-E it! Before you get your panties in a bunch, it's a crocheting book not a career change. I figure with a name like that, I have no choice but to love it. It's taken me a week to learn how to crochet a single line... now I'm working on adding a second ... it could take weeks, but would you expect anything less from the Anti-Martha? I think the important thing is that I love it. It's challenging and mindless at the same time... and doesn't it entice me away from my family at all hours of the day and night. Although I'm pretty certain these gnarly, man hands won't be making any think dainty or fancy like a doily or a skirt... I'll probably just end up with a 100 feet of singled stitched yarn:)



My point is not to just replace one idle task with another... I don't want my family to feel snubbed by my kick arse crocheting ability anymore than I want them to resent my time on the computer. I do know I need something just for me though, and honestly I'm hoping this sassy little craft book will be like "the patch" for facebook. It might be wishful thinking, but until they come out with the real thing, I need to get through the urge to check my mail and facebook newsfeed 700 times an hour....  one step at a time. And if being a "happy hooker" can help with that... I'm game!

{Here's my "Oldie but Goodie" pick... it's the very first post I wrote for EMM and it's still painfully true today! Hope you likey:)}

I only paint the toes that show on any given day. From a distance it looks like I have a decent pedi going … and I do mean a distance. But if you look up close you would see about 17 layers of gunky, chipped “You don’t know Jacques” OPI nail polish on my toes. My big toe on my left foot is still swollen and throbbing from an unfortunate forking (which is why forks don’t belong on the floor FYI) and the calluses on my heals…well it’s just not proper to talk about them in mixed company.



Anyway, why am I going on about my disgusting man feet??? Because I think they kind of represent who I am in life…(stay with me now girls.) So much of what I do and how I portray myself is so others will think that I have it together…not ALL together because that would be annoying…but just together. What I want you to see is that I have three crazy boys … two with special needs… and although we have been faced with many challenges… I am strong and I am easy going and I know what I’m doing. That’s what I want you to see, and that’s probably what it looks like from a distance. But when you get even remotely close enough you will see that many days I am just broken…that I use humor to put myself down to guard against your judgement… and that I have no clue what I’m doing most of the time or how to be a good mom to such complex boys.



I’m sick of pretending to be someone I’m not. Guess what I’m a horrible house keeper…not just because my kids destroy everything…but because I hate to clean. If you come to my house without any notice, my house WILL NOT be clean…EVER. I will never be a gentle soft spoken mom who plays games and does crafts all day with my kids…that’s just not me. But what I am trying to come to grips with is that who God made me … is enough. I am enough… and you are too.



So today, before we post on facebook that we just ran 5 miles, cleaned our houses and listened to our 3-year-old recite the encyclopedia…tI think we need to ask ourselves if we're being real or someone we've created in our heads. Because until we are ready to be real and sometimes even vulnerable…we can never be in true community with other moms. How can we be there for each other if we don’t really know each other?





Want to Win an Earth Monkeys Eco-Friendly Bib? Post a comment under this link on the Earth Monkeys Facebook Page about an area in your life where you have trouble being real or want people to think you have it more together than you actually do... the first step is admitting it... I just bared all... you can too:)

In case you can't tell those little dollops of cement are actually burnt cookies.

You may have heard me refer to myself as the "Anti-Martha" before. It's not a badge I wear proudly, and it's not by choice... it's by DNA. Growing up I think the best way to describe my mom is "June Bundy-Crocker" All of the domesticky goodness of June Cleaver and Betty Crocker with a little Peg Bundy smooshed in the middle to account for her funny sassiness. My sisters are clearly Betty and Junes but apparently Peg was the only one home when I was born ...

What you actually thought it was going to be clean clean??? Have you met me?? Well maybe you haven't, but still you should know better!! I will say though, at least for the 45 minutes surrounding this picture, I think our house was actually bumped back up into the "It might be messy, but it's clean underneath" category... good enough for me:) Project #1 ... Complete!

 "Autism is our forth child" has been our mantra since our third son Crew was born. With two special needs kids we knew the dream of having 4 kids would have to die as we poured our life, love and energy into therapy for Sawyer and Thatcher and learn how to live with three very high maintenance boys. But now that they are getting older and doing phenomenally well... that sneaky little yearning for another baby has popped up and slapped me across the face.



Some of you probably know (because I plastered it all over facebook) that I got pregnant this past September. It was an accident, but I was so incredibly excited. Family and friends who heard the news... not so much. They knew my plate was full, and I think some were even a little frustrated with us for being "irresponsible". I didn't care though, even knowing how miserable my pregnancies are, knowing that bed rest and big blistery grossness could take over my body at any time (seriously that's how bad my pregnancies are) knowing I was prolonging the years of lack of sleep and sure to pack on another 60 pounds (cause that's how I roll) I was still so excited.  I had geared up for the crazy and was ready for another big eyed, chubby poop factory!! I lost the pregnancy in October and while I had to pretend to be fine and relieved (because it really wasn't an ideal situation), I was pretty heartbroken. It wasn't my first miscarriage, and the last one was a lot farther along and about 100 x's more complicated... so I felt like I had to just shrug it off... we'd been though this before, it was no big deal... only it kind of was to me.



Since then I haven't been able to shake the baby bug. I was ooing and ahhing over something cute and baby the other day and Gena said, "Shut-up, I'm going to punch you in the face." I should share Gena is smack dab in the middle of terrible two's with her little guys and has absolutely no desire for another one at this point. AND she's right ... she knows first hand the drama and all out pandemonium that goes on around here!! Anyway, everywhere I turn I see cute baby clothes... or someone is about to pop pregnant and I feel a tinge of jealousy...



A lot of you may be screaming at your computer right now wanting to remind me of past posts talking about the craziness and mayhem of my life and not even being able to go to the bathroom by myself. It's weird, even as I type my kids are going nuts and fighting and hitting... and I still want another one. My mom said she wanted another baby another my older sister got pregnant the first time, I don't know if I can't wait that long for these feelings to go away.

from joyfolie.com

The bottom line is, my husband doesn't even remotely feel the same way... so I'm pretty sure there is no hope of owning these spectacular little girl's boots. (you can stop hyperventilating now mom:) 





I'm just wondering why I feel this way and when these feeling will go away. Am I just being stubborn like usual and want one because no one in the world thinks I should continue to procreate??? Do I just really love little girls clothing and want to play dress up??? Or would a fourth child really complete our little family???



Are you done having kids??? If so how did you know AND if you are done do you ever question your decision... mama needs help.. or there may be a fourth baby picture to add to this set...

 Shauna... is a stay at home mom of two girls, she's the author of the "Waypoint" book series, and her personal blog "Breathe, Smile, Pray...Repeat." Her girls keep her on her toes, and have been the inspiration for many blog posts, here and on BSPR. She's just an ordinary mom trying to master the most natural job in the world.