Saturday, October 09, 2010

Pieces of the Pie

I have been struggling lately with finding a balance and hate the feeling that comes with not being able to do it all, and do it all well.

As a dear friend once explained to me, I am simply a pie. And a pie can only be cut into so many pieces. My pie used to just be a couple of huge, yummy slices, work & Jeremy.

Each year, I've squeezed more and more out of my pie.

Working full-time, mothering two boys, cooking, laundry, shopping, working out; each becomes a slightly smaller piece.

And in the end, there just isn't always enough to go around.

My pie pieces feel itty-bitty and are definitely not cut into perfect triangles.

My kids go to school with wild hair, breakfast on their chins, and occasionally, without jackets.

My meal last night was Kraft Mac N Cheese out of the famous blue box. For all of us, not just those 4 and under.

My carpet needs to be vacuumed.

My dog is shaggier than ever and gives me his sad eyes begging for more attention.

My poor husband receives the short end of the stick. My short fuse, my short patience, my inability to keep all three kinds of milk, whole, 2%, and skim stocked at all times.

I really don't mean to whine to the world but sometimes I get so overwhelmed by everyone needing me and read these un-real blogs of women who apparently were born to mother because life is always peachy-keen and they LOVE being a mom. I was clearly not born with that gene. Which is so weird because I thought I was.

That being said, I do love my boys, of course it's easier when they're being cute and silly. I am typing this after a monsterous 4 year old meltdown of epic proportions so I'm a bit jaded. Have you ever held a 40 pound kicking and screaming child on a toilet? Wouldn't recommend it. It's messy.

Without any more whining, here are so pictures of my precious blondies. I'm so lucky to have a very talented photographer friend who kept me on her short list after she gave up her job to spend more time with her boys. I would refer you to her blog for more amazing photography and inspirations.

Thank you so much Jennifer Cordero. And please, these photos are copyrighted, so you execs over at BabyGap, keep your hands off them... unless you want to contribute to the Carson & Keaton College Fund.

Those who know me, know I am an "all or nothing" kinda gal. So while some might say Keaton is walking, I am holding out saying it until he's "switched over" completely.

Keaton learned to walk SO differently than Carson. Carson (if my memory serves me correctly -which is questionable these days), took 1 step, then 3, and then ran right out of the room. Never looked back. Crawling was for babies.

Keaton took 1 step, then 2, then 3, then 2, then 4, then 4, then 2, then 6. He has no fear but clearly cannot figure out how to balance his giant noggin' without toppling over! This milestone has been a long time in the works with several weeks now of a few steps here and there.

He is now to the point where he can balance and take as many steps as he wants. But if his little legs receive an internal command to GET THERE NOW, his body tips forward at such an angle that the tree topples. Then crawling takes back over because it is much faster.

Selfishly, I really really want him 100% by Halloween because his costume will be SO much cuter!

Keaton is a doll. A LOUD doll. A feisty doll. And a doll that has just two little teeth.

Poor guy is harboring a lot of pearly whites up in those swollen gums and I fully expect him to wake up one morning with a mouthful of chompers that all popped out at once.

Carson. What can I say. Funny drama king.

He insisted on wearing his silver Power Ranger costume in the airport in Reno on the way home. With his red and gold Ironman shoes. You would have thought the President was walking through the airport for as much attention as he garnered.

The security guards made a pretense out of patting down his GIANT foam muscles. It was precious.

Each morning he tries on 20 different outfits to find the perfect one. I do feel badly because he is in an awkward phase of being in-between sizes.

4's are too small and "pull on my parts Mom". And I can't stand the highwater effect.

Yet he swims in 5's. I even bought a super cool to help keep his pants up. So he refuses to wear anything. Also turns out he doesn't like long shirts because he has to remember to pull them up or they get peed on. 

I've learned that if you just force him (earplugs and body armor help) to try something out, it can stick! He's worn size 5's two days in a row now! I won't count that battle as won just yet but we're well on the way.

And if you're wondering how I actually got time to update my stale blog, both boys are napping. This also means my dishes are still needing help unloading themselves and my vacuum just won't push itself around the room. And the dog, oh crud, I left him on the front porch again.

How Old is Carson?

How Old is Keaton?