The joys of potty training.

My whole life right now revolves around peeing and pooping. No joke. Although I've gotten hear so many people brag about their early potty trainers ("She was fully trained by two!" "He watched his older brother and was trained by 18 months" "She walked out of my uterus and said, "Mommy, I have to go!""), my almost-three-year-old was apparently a slacker. He just showed no interest. So I wasn't going to push it, although spending $40 a month on diapers (times two kids!) was really starting to get on my nerves.

I started prepping Cash about a month before his third birthday. When someone would ask him how old he was going to be on his birthday, his answer became a robotic, "Three, and we don't wear diapers when we're three." This always got a laugh, but underneath it was serious tone.

About two weeks after we started this mantra,  we took a weekend to begin. Off with the diaper, on with the big boy underwear (forget superheroes and dinosaurs, he has to have underwear that looks like Daddy's!), and in with the fluids. He went pee 7 times that day! Woohoo! Stickers and candy all around! From then on, he was pee-trained. 

Now comes the hard part (literally... ew!). Pooping. For some reason little kids are afraid to poop on the potty. I'm not sure if it's the new sensation (lack of sitting in your own $hi+??) or the actual poop itself (apparently some kids think it's going to "get them!") but he began to hold it. And hold it. And hold it. Anyone who's ever been constipated can relate. Poor little dude. Cue increase of non-diluted apple juice, decrease in bananas, and a pooping prize-box.

*side note - I did have an episode last night with a floater in the tub. Good news was I got him out in time to finish on the potty. Poor Declan - he did NOT look happy about the extra bath toy in his bath (they were bathing together!).
I think I can (knock on wood) say that Cash is now OFFICIALLY potty trained. And 95% of it was by his 3rd birthday.  Thanks to the grandparents buying lots of new undies for him, we now got a $40 a month raise! Go Cashy!

Out of the Darkness

Well, it's been a LONG time since my last post, and since the last one was about my mom, I'll start again with the same subject. On October 1st, I did the Out of the Darkness walk for suicide awareness and prevention. Thanks to the generosity of my friends and family, I raised over $600 for the cause, and our team was 3rd place in raising money. What an amazing walk it was. Although it was cold, the sun was out, and people were in good spirits. The group that put the walk on did an amazing job. They put together a video of the walker's loved ones who had commited suicide, offered a banner you could sign, a reflection area, and even a smores station halfway through.

We had a wonderful group to walk with. Shalene, Stefanie and her mom, San, Lori, Breona, and two new friends we met that day, Kitty and her husband, Dave. Oh, and a four-legged friend, Churchill. We all had lost a friend or a loved one. My favorite thing about the walk (which was also very sad) was you could wear beads representing the loved one that you lost. Red for a spouse, orange for a parent, green for sibling, and so on. It was interesting to see, without even talking to a person, a little piece of their story.

The walk was another step closer to having closure. It was good to bring the somewhat taboo issue "out of the darkness" and to be able to talk frankly about our stories and the issue. I hope to do it again next year, and hope that they money raised will help others.

I miss my mom.

Tomorrow it will have been a year since my mom died. I've done a lot of reflecting this week on my relationship with my mom. The ups, the downs, and the slightly (or not-so-slightly?) crazy.

I always knew that she would take her own life. For as long as I remember, she always said she believed in what Dr. Kevorkian was doing assisting the elderly or in pain to end their lives. I know it sounds crazy but she always said she wasn't going to live her life in pain or with someone having to take care of her every need. I think she was particularly fearful of Alzheimers. But I never thought it would be before my children were grown.

Although my mom was only 61, she had many problems both mentally and physically. She had been bipolar for a long time and was the poster child for alternating between extreme manic times and extreme depressing times.  She was starting to have problems with her memory forgetting entire conversations, or just little details.  She also had some physical problems ranging from shoulder issues, migraines, and a weird stomach lesion thing that only allowed her to eat sweets and meat.

Despite all of that (and so much more), I try to remember the good times that I had with her. I am glad that she was able to meet both of my children. She loved them so much, always buying them little toys, and just being happy to read a book or sit on the floor and play with them. I have a few pictures of her with each of the boys, playing with them, and reading, and that's something I'll always treasure.

There are so many other things that stick out in my mind. Although she drove me nuts, we had a lot of good times too.  It seemed to alternate every other moment. I was particularly sentimental the other day while I was at Taco Bell of all places.  She always loved the verde salsa from there and then it was discontinued for awhile. The other day I saw that it was back, and available in little packets so you could put it on yourself.  I thought of my mom and thought what a shame it was that she wasn't around to see that.  Stupid, I know, but made me sad nonetheless.

On October 1st, I'll be doing a walk called Out of the Darkness. The goal is to increase suicide awareness and work on methods of prevention. My goal is to raise $500 and I'm almost there. I hope that it can help many people through what I've been through, and maybe prevent some people from making the tragic decision to end their lives.

I Tri(ed) and did awesome!

I DID IT! I wrote down a list of goals when I turned 31: Things I wanted to accomplish.  On that list of a half a dozen items, "Complete a triathlon" was on my list.  I had just completed a 5k, which was a goal for when I had turned 30, so I was feeling good about it. As the months wore on, I lost focus and motivation and came up with a list of excuses why I 'couldn't' do it. No time to train, I'm not strong enough, I don't have a bike, I'll probably finish last... excuse after excuse. Then as the summer wore on, and I was losing weekends every time I turned around, I decided I needed to do it. Why the HELL not!? Why NOT me?  Ok, so I probably would still finish last but hey! At least I would have finished!

So I made the time.  I got stronger. I borrowed a bike. And in the end I didn't finish last. (Close to last but oh well - just more room for improvement!)  And it was amazing. Other than growing and birthing two little humans in my body (which really was left more up to biology than sheer will) it was the most awesome thing I've ever done.

Race day came and with lots of advice from one friend in particular (my inspiration - thanks Jen Lake!), I got all set up, felt the water, relaxed, and set in to enjoy it. "You only get one first tri," she said. I was slow in the water - but not the slowest - and I didn't drown!  Great start! Got on the bike with a rush of adrenaline, and I was off!  I even looked all official with my tri suit and the gu I was 'eating' on the bike. And I was passing people! Woohoo! Got done with the bike, and now I was really pumped - just a simple (ha!) 3 miles and I'm a triathlete!  I just took it one mile at a time, and wow. I told Nathan that although it sounds cheesy, I felt so liberated! I'm doing it! I'm DOING a triathlon! I am a strong and amazing woman! Go me!!


Passed that finish line, almost threw up on my friends who were congratulating me (almost), and enjoyed the feeling of success. I'm already looking forward to my next tri, in a few weeks. I'm going to shave at least 10 minutes of time, and put myself in a good position for next year. Now if only I can convince Nathan to do one with me. :) That will be on my goal list when I turn 32.

                                                           Before the tri - bring it on!

                                                                   After the tri - I SURVIVED!

Bro-bro see, bro-bro do.

Most of the time I LOVE the fact that my boys are only 17 months apart. They play together, they watch the same TV shows, and they even go to bed within 20 minutes of each other. They both still nap, they both love to eat, and they both love torturing the cat.

But sometimes, even though they are ONLY 17 months apart, they are STILL 17 months apart! Declan doesn't seem to realize that he is smaller, not as strong, and not as dexterous as Cash is. I try to never utter the words, "You can't do that," or "You're just too little," but sometimes he CAN'T do that, and he IS just too little. Once Declan has it in his mind that he wants to do something Cash is doing there is no stopping him.


About a few months ago, Declan decided that he was too big for the high chair. If bro-bro sat at the big (little kids) table, then he has to as well. Cashy's brushing his teeth?  Well, he has to also! And just today I tried to give him a banana piece OUT OF THE PEEL but NOPE! Declan has to eat his like Cash is eating his, holding the bottom of the banana and peeling it down (only he can't peel it down yet, so I still have to help).

Mostly this is great. Cash sets great examples and it's much easier to get Declan to do things that Cash is doing. Unless I don't want him too. Then it's the end of the world if he has to drink his juice box out of his cup in the car while Cash gets to drink it right from the packaging.

Here's to hoping Cash keeps setting good examples - and stops torturing the cat.

My name is Molly and I'm a closet eater (Hi Molly!)

I love to eat. Who doesn't? Nathan likes to eat too. It's one of the things we bond over. We love to eat out - in fact, we'd rather eat out to celebrate a birthday than get a present. We love to eat in - Deans French Onion Dip and Dr. Pepper used to be staples in our house.

Fortunately we like to eat healthy things too. We are both fans of most fruits, vegetables, and well-balanced meals. Not being a fan of a vigorous exercise routine, we have both managed to put on some pounds since getting married. (They say that to put on weight after getting married is a sign of a happy marriage - or just being lazy!) I would like to point out that I have had two small people use me as their home for 9 months and I wonder what Nathan's excuse is... sympathy weight?  :) After 7 years of marriage, Nathan was about 40 pounds over where he should be, and I just wanted to get back to about 10 lbs under my pre-Cash weight.

I have had a distinct advantage in my weight-loss journey over the last year. 1) I got a part-time job at a fitness facility. We have a family membership and I took advantage of it. 2) I only work part-time (I have another part-time job but they still don't equal 40 hours a week) so I had more time. 3) Once I turned 30, I got all sorts of motivated to do things I've never done athletically.  I tried spinning, I ran a 5k, and in 4 weeks I'll complete my first triathlon.

Nathan has had a harder time because 1) he works full time, plus more hours if need be! 2) He plain old wasn't motivated. After several issues with his back, and a few rounds of gout (that story is for another time!) he decided it. was. time.  So far he's lost about 20 lbs. He works out about 5-6 days a week. I even got him to spin class once a week and he'll start an awesome arms class in the fall. He (for the most part) sticks to his diet and doesn't cheat... much.

I, on the other hand, have become a closet eater. I can't drink pop around him (because I want to support him) so I have to get it during the day when he's not around. If I want something bad for me, I have to choose wisely when to eat it. I shop healthier, sending longing looks to the Doritos, and telepathic promises to the raw cookie dough. I'm usually not a candy eater but even the Hot Tamales and Startbursts (now they have an only pink/red bag!!!) are calling to me. Take me with you Moooooolly... He doesn't have to knoooooow....


On the upside, I work out a lot now, including training for my tri, so I think it's all a wash. But I do look forward to the day when Dean can come back (sans shame) into our household.

Here's a picture of us from Beaver Island. I'll post another when he gets farther along but for now he's doing so well and looks amazing!  I am very very proud!

I had to fire my maid.

Unfortunately, I recently had to fire my maid.  She's really a terrible house cleaner. She hates laundry, and it's constantly piling up, never to be folded and put away. She never vacuums, and since we have two little boys who love to play in sand, this is a problem. And she hasn't shown up in weeks. I mean REALLY! She gets here after I leave, leaves before I get back, I never see her. In fact, come to think of it, I haven't actually seen her for months... or is it years??

I have never been a 'have-to-have-the-house-spotless' kind of girl. My room was always messy growing up. I was definitely not the neat freak of all of my college roommates. And I consider myself very lucky to have found a partner in life who is equally as disorganized as me. :)

There's nothing like a clean house that smells like lemons. I'll give you that. A clean set of sheets is nothing short of heaven to slide into. A scrubbed-down kitchen makes me want to cook elaborate and tasty meals. And let's be honest - a clean bathroom? That's just a good idea at all times!

As I have gotten older, I have perfected the super quick house clean. Used to be that Nathan could call me and tell me he was on his way home (a 45 minute drive) and I would mega-clean the whole (tiny) house and he would be so impressed that I had been so productive all day! *insert day-off filled with Taco Bell, Facebooking, and reality TV.

Since having children, Nathan and I do make an attempt to pick up the house every night, even if it is only for 10 minutes. I still do my super clean, or employ strategies such as the  "10 minutes of cleanup, then 30 minutes of resting."   In the end, it doesn't really matter. If I was on my deathbed tomorrow I would not regret not keeping my house cleaner. My ability to overlook goldfish crackers on the floor and a huge pile of clean laundry behind the recliner is uncanny. Most days I'm thankful for the little socks that don't ever seem to have a mate, the toys that I step on in the middle of the night, and the cat barf that has accumulated in the corner (totally kidding on that last one!).  If the biggest thing in my life I have to complain about is a messy house then I'll take it.

We have a very happy, mostly healthy family and we have everything we need. (But don't get me wrong: I wouldn't say no to a maid if one appeared!)

PS - here is proof that at one time, those little socks DID have mates... where did they all GO!???