Moving in and 35 weeks



We finally made the big move. At the last possible moment housing came through and I joined the hubby in Knoxville.

He happened to have inventory (a once a year event) that weekend so I managed the house during the movers coming and delivery our boxes. Lots of cleaning, little sleep, and two long days later the pets, Maddox, and I arrived. By Monday, we were moving in and painting.

It's been a whirlwind of unpacking, prepping, and preparing for baby #2. I finally hit my point of exhaustion yesterday but picked back up by this afternoon to work on refinishing our entry way wood floor and unpacking most of the garage.

I hate boxes. I hate disorganization. I hate not having the house set up. I want to focus on decorating and not unwrapping individual packed items.

By now, the little one has dropped and is sitting comfortably on my bladder and pelvis-- not so comfortably for me. It's coming down to the wire and seeing the crib all set up made it all very real, more real than it's been so far.

Is there really going to be a baby sleeping in that room? Are we really doing this again? It seems so long ago that we were at that point with Maddox.

That's all for now, but I also wanted to share this shot of Maddox getting curious while I was trying to photograph "the bump." Big brother is already trying to steal the show!



Discipline: The dirty little word

I can still remember when caring for my son meant simply meeting his day-to-day needs. But somewhere along the way he developed something called a WILL and OPINION about every aspect of life.

Suddenly, my cherbic offspring went from following direction and being easy to passify to an entirely different little human. This child tells me where to sit, what he wants to eat, says 'no' and then changes his mind in a fit of tears, tests my direction (such as "come here", "don't touch", and "be nice to the dogs"), and sometimes decides that our errands for the day are not part of HIS agenda. Some days, the slightest bump in the road will send him spiraling into a meltdown. And yesterday for the first time, he ran in the opposite direction when I tried to steer him to the car. Fortunately, he was not in danger but could have been if we were not in Pat's yard.

And with this new trial and test of my limits comes a new descent into discipline. At home, of course, it's easier. I have two time-out spots, safety, and shelter from the prying eye of the public. And if the situation calls for it, a spatula to use for a swat.

But now that tantrums and outright disobedience is trickling into our public outings, the issue is more complicated. It's not always easy to remove my son from a public place to discipline in private, and sometimes he's crying too hard to talk to. In those times, all I can do is leave where we are and deal with it when we get to the car-- if that's an option.

I do understand that sometimes a meltdown is the result of badly needing a nap. It's every parent's challenge to find their balance between when a tired child's crankiness should be overlooked or faced head-on. I hate being that parent/child in a store that's causing a scene. But I also don't believe in giving into a bad attitude by offering candy or impulsively buying a new toy to try and quiet my unhappy little one.

I know that this is just a time we're going through, and some days I feel more or less capable of handling what he throws my way. But at least I understand that being two means coming to terms with new emotions he's experiencing and trying to find the words to express his thoughts and feelings. I know it's frustrating and I know he understands that no matter what, I love him. And at the end of the day, he's still my best buddy who says goodnight with not one but TWO hugs and a kiss.

And I know that everything will be allright.

Are you (going to be) "that" parent?

Do you ever wonder if you're going to do all the embarassing things parents are known for? Are you embracing becoming "that" parent because it's finally your turn afterall?

Everyone can probably recall moments from their childhood that made them cringe. Maybe it was how your parents dressed "so un-cool," said the wrong things in front of your friends, told the story of your birth over and over again while you rolled your eyes, made a habit of showing houseguests the "cute" photo albums of you and your brother-- some sans clothing, or insisted on hiring a clown long after you'd outgrown the circus theme parties.

Let's face it. Parents can't seem to help themselves when it comes to embracing doing things that make them "that" parent. Not necessarily the one that becomes so obnoxious they're kicked off the sidelines of a baseball game, just the one that makes their offspring cringe at times or roll their eyes. And while some things will be unavoidable, it still leaves the question: Are you the parent that embraces this role?

There are a number of moments I wished to become invisible at the expense of a parental faux pax. And I admit that becoming "that" parent is not something I look forward to. The first time Maddox tells me, "Moooom, you're sooo embarassing," I admit my feelings may be a little hurt. Afterall, being the "cool" parent makes one feel better than being the one that makes your offspring want to hide.

But some parents I know embrace the joy of making their kids cringe... just a little. They know they're going to show off baby photos to everyone they know, even after their children are grown. They plan to yell the loudest at sporting events, run on stage to give their kiddo a hug following a great performance, and push their kids into trying hobbies they wouldn't want their friends to know about. They reason that THEY went through it and survived, so their kids will to.

I hope Maddox and I will remain close as he gets older. I hope that we have open communication so he can tell me how he feels without fearing judgement or that I'll somehow jeapardize his trust. Life is tough and even navigating family can be tricky. I just hope to help make that as easy as possible.

What about you? Are you afraid of becoming your parents? Or is being "embarassing" just part of the parental role, one you embrace without apology?

"Appy Mommy Day!"

Mother's Day 2011

6:30 am call from the event company.. Aparantly they forgot I'm off today
Breakfast shared with Maddox who always begs for my fruit AND his; what can I say? I unknowingly taught him to eat off my plate.
Quick kitchen sweep up of crumbs and things the dogs dragged in
Early morning bath for our bulldog while Maddox got fully soaked/covered in dog hair while still in pajamas
Quick change and off to the barn with my mini equestrian sidekick
Bareback horse rides
Bath for the horse and a hoof trim while Maddox fed her weeds and helped dry her off... while I was still washing
A walk with the dogs while Maddox called out "come! come!" to the canines
A visit to the car wash and much-needed cleaning and vaccuming of the mom-mobile
Stop at Publix to pick up diapers
Quick drive through McDonald's for an iced coffee refresher
Shower
Picked up Dad for lunch at Royal Tai (Who loves sticky rice? Two-year-olds do!)

Naps all around

How was your "Mommy Day?"

All I want this Mother's Day...

Mother's Day is a yearly event dedicated to pampering the child-rearers of the world and showering them with appreciation. Well... at least in theory.

But what really matters to a mother? What does she most want?

I could say that the average mother wants to be remembered with homemade cards, breakfast made by her small brood, and maybe a bouquet of flowers--hand picked are extra special. (Fond memories at our house growing up were the "Mom project" gifts that became keepsakes: pottery we painted, a painted box for jewelry, a clay necklace, and a tiny clay koala. And while these things make sweet memories, this year I'm going to go just a little deeper with my wish.

So what do I really want this year?

On a very raw level, I just want to know that my son is safe and secure. My wishes are for him: that he stays healthy and strong; That he will always be kind and compassionate; That he will learn how to deal with adversity and develop a strong character; That he will have a strong sense of what is right and what is wrong and be able to stand up for what he should; For him to find what he is passionate about early in life and develop those things into lifelong talents. 

Having children is a blessing, not a right. And I'm thankful he came into my life.

What are your wishes for Mother's Day this year?

To diaper or not to diaper: The cloth diaper debate

I admit it. I haven't been that Super Mom who touts cloth diapers, weilds environmentally sustainable snacks, snubs disposable training pants, and is committed to a 100% eco-friendly lifestyle. Actually, until just last month I hadn't even considered trying cloth diapers.

Now those who know me understand that I do care about the environment-- quite a bit actually-- but the concept of washing and caring for alternative diapers was well... intimidating. Then I read Beth's post "My Experience with Cloth Diapers." She had a realistic view of diapering this way with helpful links and basic care instructions.

Wow! I thought. You mean it's okay to commit to using cloth only part of the time?? Like after the morning poopy diaper is deposited?? Now that sounded more do-able. And one doesn't have to feel tied to cloth diapering even if say, you're planning a long outing that day and don't want to drag around soppy diapers as they're changed. (Not that parents can't bring a plastic bag, but that takes preparation and I'm not always that prepared.)

I tentatively ordered my first three cloth diapers. I chose a brand that made snap diapers for easy on and off with a waterproof outer coating and padded inserts.

The last few weeks we've been trying them out and with great results. I love not filling the diaper geenie so quickly, knowing those diapers are going to landfills and not decomposing any time soon. I love that I feel one step closer to putting my son in real underwear. Even the process of soaking and washing his cloth diapers is no big deal. I just whisk them downstairs to soak and when all three are ready, I toss them in the rinse cycle and then wash.

Now I do agree that cloth diapers don't hold as much liquid as disposables. But if you know your child's natural drinking and urinating habits (which you learn faster with cloth diapers) it's not hard to keep them dry.

I'm still not a complete convert, but am happy enough that I ordered several additional cloth diapers so we can use them more often. We all have to start somewhere and our family is taking baby steps towards the environmentally-friendly diapering approach. And who knows? Maybe by the second go-round I'll be ready for a complete conversion.

Have you ever considered or used cloth diapers? I'd love to hear your own experiences and tips.

The joys of toddlerhood and an Easter recap

This Easter, Maddox was old enough to take part in more of the activities and really enjoyed a week of holiday events. It's fun watching him grow and discover.

Early in the week, we met up with friends and dyed eggs at the park. Most of the dye ended up on the kids and on the floor, but they loved dunking them and eating the frosted Easter cookies one mom brought. Here's Maddox with the twins.

Next, we had a weekend Egg hunt at church. Maddox didn't know what to do first-- there was a "sand box" of bird seed to dig in, giant bubbles to blow, a park to play in, a bouncey house, and even a petting zoo complete with lambs, ducks and chicks, dogs, and rabbits.

We hunted eggs together and even stopped long enough to pose for a few photos. After picking up each egg, Maddox would dump out the candy contents to see what he'd gotten. We didn't keep most of the candy (It was taffy and hard candy) but here's a shot of him devouring a bag of fruit chews they also left out for the kids to find.

On Sunday, we hid eggs in the grass and let Maddox run around in search of a half dozen hard boiled ones. (Good thing he's so good at finding them or we'd have no eggs for Easter brunch ; ) After finding each egg, he'd hold it high and show us ANOTHER EGG!

At church on Sunday, they had all the kids go up front with "Jesus" for the final song. And of course, guess whose child was the only one climbing up and down stairs and zooming around the front of the church? Yup, you guessed it.

Of course by the end of the song, he was finally sitting nicely and cried when he had to get off the stairs...

The final verdict? Easter is pretty fun when you're 2. 

A sense of glorious freedom

Spending a day at the Opryland Hotel and enjoying a day at the spa, I thought back to how life has changed so much in such a short amount of time. Mainly, the responsibilities I have now that I didn't have even just a few years ago.

Becoming a parent, you trade one life for a brand new one. You trade sleeping in on Saturday morning for early pancake breakfasts together and playing on the driveway. You trade intimate dinners for family-friendly restaurants that are known for speedy service. You trade coffee with friends for mommy play groups with gold fish crackers to munch on.

Life is richer now, but also very different.

One of the most "free spirited" times in my life can be summed up with a single memory. While living in Seattle I would take lunch breaks to go visit my horse. I would put on her halter, take her out in the fields and trails, and ride bareback for 15 or 20 minutes before racing back to the barn and speeding back to work. I laughed at others I saw on the trails who would look quizzically at the girl on the horse, still wearing a skirt and work clothes, travelling down the path without a care in the world.

I miss those moments to.

These days, my "freeness" is spent at an hour or two at a time quietly shopping. It's a two hour naptime. Once in a while, it's sitting at a restaurant alone-- strangely the same thing I dreaded in my single years. Sometimes, it's a weekend working out of town. But these freedoms are different ones than I used to enjoy.

I know these moments, this time of consantly being needed and the task of keeping him safe, is only for a short while and I enjoy the things I get to do with an inquisitive child who soaks it all up with glee. But it's funny how life changes so suddenly.

Summer Kids Crafts: Pine cone bird feeders and personalized stepping stones

Spring and Summer are the perfect times of year to start an outdoor craft project. Kids love learning new things and creating usable crafts.

The following simple crafts are both inexpensive and perfect for young children. A little imagination can go a long way on a warm afternoon.

Pine Cone Bird Feeder 

Gather together:

Smooth peanut butter

1-2 Pine cones

String or twine

A pan of bird seed

A spoon for spreading

Line an outdoor table with newspaper and set out your supplies. Tie a 2 foot piece of string to the top of the pine cone. Let the kids slather the pine cone with peanut butter and roll it in the bird seed. Allow to dry for a few hours before hanging up for the birds to enjoy!

Stepping Stones

Stepping stone kit

Tiles, stones, beads

Thin wood dowel for writing

Handi-wipes for quick cleanup

Most craft stores sell inexpensive stepping stone kits. All you need to do is mix the cement according to directions (ours was slightly too moist so we let it sit for 30 minutes in the sun before decorating). Create your own designs with handprints, footprints, mosaics, glass stones, and beads. You can use a wood dowel to draw and write a name or spell it out in beads. Allow to dry one day before removing from the mold. Most kits come with enough mix to make more than one stepping stone.

Last summer Maddox and I made a stepping stone for the garden with his handprint and Henry's pawprint. The two buddies created a cherished momento we can enjoy for years to come.

Green thumbs and muddy shoes

They say gardening is good for the soul. Digging in the dirt helps remind us of the good and tangible things in life. In a world run by the button-pushers and electronic messengers, sometimes it just feels good to touch something solid. 

I also think gardening is good for the child in you.

The other day after a heavy rain, I pulled on my heavy boots and took my son outside with seeds and shovels in hand. The dogs danced around us and played in the grass while we looked over our small patch of garden and debated where to plant our peas, zuchinni, cucumbers, tomatoes, and herbs. The sun felt so good after a long winter and wet, chilly start to spring.

We dug and planted for about 30 minutes, which is all a busy toddler can really handle. I carefully pushed seeds into each hole while Maddox drizzled them clumsily, spilling peas into the grass. He loves "helping" and watching his enthusiasm made me smile.

Gardens are wonderful places for children. It's a place of quiet solitude, brooding thoughts, shared times, and simple sucesses. One of the best places to grow up is in a garden where trial and error don't hurt so badly and heavy burdens can be dug deep into the ground and buried for a while.

Maddox might still be too young to remember these early times together. He may not even know that the seeds we planted are now the same peas peeking out of the ground and beginning to wind upwards, gowing and climbing to find the sun.

But what he will remember is that he and mommy were never afraid to get our hands dirty and the mud on our boots is okay, that it was earned together. 

We still haven't quite figured out the Southern growing season, but that's okay to. Last year we happily shared zuchinni muffins, zuchinni lasagna, and even breaded and baked zuchinni fries from monstrous vegetables. But that's not the only reaon why I started the garden. Sometimes the process is more important than the final product. 

Here's a video of Maddox last year helping me "water" the plants.

And just as a side story, I've decided to share an interesting article from the San Francisco Chronicle about a gardener who took over a vacant lot and turned it into a miniature farm. Urban farms are nothing new, but the city now wants the gardener to buy an expensive permit to continue sharing with the community.

Looking at the pains this gardener took to transform the plot of land, I kept thinking what a wonderful learning experience it would be for local children who visit and the benefits they receive being nourished by the fruits of her labor.

What a terrible loss if city regulations brought it all to a sudden halt.

"It's okay to be green"

Motherhood is probably the only job you'll never quit for being overworked and underpaid.

One day I will look back and "remember when Maddox grabbed the neon green bottle of nail polish in the store when I wasn't looking"... one day...

My pregnancy and The evolution of mother's dreams

This week Maddox and I visited the Jones family who recently welcomed a baby boy into their family. It's been joyful to see the couple anxiously anticipating their son's arrival, preparing the baby room, and going through all the happy moments leading to the grand finale. Watching mother and child relaxing together on a Friday afternoon made everything seem so right.

It also brought back certain points in time for me. (Whose own son, I will mention, was reluctant to go inside and then decided to be shy and stand in the corner almost the entirety of our visit! Understand readers, that this is despite the fact that Heather has kept him overnight on more than one occassion and he always cries when he has to go home.)

I would like to be able to relate to those who had such a pregnancy, but mine was full of stress and worry throughout the entire 9 months. Thankfully, everything physically went smoothly but nothing else seemed to come easily.

The announcement of Maddox's presence came at what I believed was the worst possible time. I was only days from moving to Dallas and had a lot of plans forming for work and opportunities that did not include maternity leave. On top of this were other unanswered questions like Do the father and I stay together? Should I move or stay? Where will we get the money for a baby? How long will I have insurance? (The answer to this was that I had coverage until 6 months into the pregnancy, which at that point my employer dropped everyone's insurance and I was forced to apply for state coverage-- twice actually, but we will get to that later.)

Soon after the news that a baby was in our future, I became an emotional, dry-heaving, insomnia-at-night-and -napping-during-the-day, and hormonal mess.

At seven months, we moved to a brand new city. This was a blessing and a lot to handle in the last trimester. My only memories are 1. Packing the moving truck by myself since our friends were working and my significant other wouldn't be back in town until midnight (we had to hit the road around 7am the next morning) and 2. A very long drive with a rediculous number of bathroom stops.

Upon arriving in Nashville, I had to re-apply for insurance coverage. The process in Oklahoma was simple-- bring in a few pay stubs and various information forms to be approved on the spot. But in Nashville, which was also in the middle of a job market crisis that drove hundreds to apply for state benefits, it was not so simple. On a Monday, I went to the office between 6 and 7am to wait for the doors to open at 8. Everyone who hoped to MAKE AN APPOINTMENT was there lined up in an endless stream of people. I was too late and was dismissed that day. Two days later, I had to return at 5:30 am (mind you I was still having insomnia and often did not fall asleep until 8am so this was completely exhausting) and by 10 am I received an appointment to meet with someone who would review my eligibility. Later that afternoon I met with a counselor who filled out some forms for me and submitted my application.

Then I waited... and waited... and waited...

By month 9, I called the office every day asking where my approval and insurance cards were. "We're sorry," they'd say. "We're just very backed up right now. I'm sure they will be there soon." I finally hit my limit and in an exasperated moment told the telephone operator that if I didn't get my card I would be having the baby in my bathroom and NOT be delivered in a hospital where they expected me to hope insurance would pick up the bill later. My card arrived the next week.

In our first-time-parent preparedness, we did not do lamaze classes. We did not read any books (although I did read a very good book written by a midwife whose name I can't recall). We did not have a "birth plan." We did not have a hospital picked out. We did not have a delivery doctor (the clinic I was going to did not do deliveries, only pre-natal care). Most of our baby clothes were donated by a nice family that didn't need them. It all seemed like such a mess.

One week before juniors big arrival, I decided to walk through Vanderbilt hospital and spoke to a kind receptionist. I told her of my hesitation about hospitals and doctors and how I would like to possibly deliver at home but the father flatly refused that option. She suggested a midwife group that delivered at Vanderbilt and I made an appointment (not knowing that this far along most doctors will not begin seeing a new patient).

There was only time for one office visit (after a long debate about whether or not they would take me on) that was cut short due to overscheduling that day. They took my blood pressure and tried to gather my medical history, then sent me out the door. Less than a week later they delivered my child. 

Anxiety? Yes, let's say there was just a little!

My water broke on a Friday around 6pm at a small shopping mart by our apartment. I was in the middle of making dinner and had run to the store to get salad ingredients. On my way to the check-out counter I felt a slight wetness. Hmmm... then a little more... time to get home. Just as I handed my credit card to the checker there was a gush, gush, SPLASH! My water erupted and began dousing my legging-covered legs in an embrassing torrent. I raced out of the store, groceries in hand, and drove home.

Three clothing changes later I realized there was nothing I could do but put on a dress and grab a towel. Hastily I packed a bag for the hospital, not really knowing what to bring but remarkably doing a decent job. I texted dad who was still at work who texted back "Are you sure your water broke??" Ummm.. yes. Or I have major bladder issues that defy physical limitations.

I made him a quick salad and then drove to pick him up. To my dismay, every guy at work came outside to satisfy their curiosity about what a woman in labor looked like. I wasn't amused and refused to get out of the drivers seat with my giant towel tucked in place. I handed dad his salad and drove us to the hospital. (Well, kind of. The contractions were causing me to get light-headed and I ended up getting lost and turning a 30 minute drive to a one hour drive in rush hour traffic.)

23 hours later, Maddox was born.

I would like to say I was in love from the moment I saw him, but that would be a lie. I was certainly in awe, but also very surprised by the whole thing. How did the moving, growing bump I'd been carrying for so long and over so many miles suddenly turn into a tiny human? By the next day, we were happily bonded and still share a special closeness that is stronger than any other.

Children were nothing new to me, but a newborn was an entirely different responsiblity. I loved taking him with me and taking care of his needs, but also couldn't wait for him to grow up. His fragileness scared me. His helplessness made me rush home after leaving him home with dad for only 45 minutes. I slept restlessly, listening to each sound he made and to make sure he was breathing. I looked forward to "bigger."

Even more than his dad, I looked forward to discovering the world together, to play in the fall leaves, run around the house in a game of tag, read books together, and even fill a companionship that I yearned for. I couln't wait to hear him call me by name, tell me what he was thinking, see who he would look like, what color eyes he would have, and what kind of interests he'd develop.

Looking back, both moments in time were equally precious. Infancy has a sense of innocent sweetness that eventually changes. Not that children aren't sweet, but babies don't even know how to be naughty or disobey. They just do what they do and are...

Another thing I've learned is that as children get older, your role changes. Things like discipline, teaching good habits, showing a good example, and guiding makes your job more complicated. It takes more planning and consistency.

And yes, I do love the toddler stage.. most of the time.. but there are also times when I fail to enjoy THESE moments because THESE moments also completely wear a mother out.

It's funny how your hopes and dreams evolve over time. Childhood is a time for dreams, the making of theirs and the evolution of your own.

It's a fast-paced life... when you're 2

Have I mentioned that this boy has no less than four cell phones? A future business man, no doubt.

Wind, Rain, and Downed Power Lines... Oh my!

"Today we will see clouds moving in with severe weather picking up late in the afternoon. Expect strong winds, heavy rain, and possible tornados." The weatherman set the day's prediction right as I stepped off the treadmill and prepared for another morning of wet diapers, picking up last night's discarded toys, and a rush to fit everything in before the storm overtook our day of errands.

"Whaaaaaa!" Maddox's morning cries erupted from his bedroom and I swooped in to save him from the prison of his bedroom.

By the time we returned that day, the clouds had already begun to darken and loom eerily in the sky. "Okay buddy, we have to hurry and walk the dogs," I told Maddox while buckling him into his stroller and grabbing a few bites of homemade spiced apples to calm my own growling stomach. Being Momma often means a meager breakfast. Especially when those precious few moments when my two-year old is strapped into his high chair are perfect for popping laundry into the wash, sweeping up, and starting my day.

The minute we stepped outside, the first few drops of rain began to fall. By the time we turned back for home, a full downpour erupted and doused us with a cool spring shower. By the time we turned into the driveway, our clothes stuck to our skin. I quickly un-hooked the dogs to dry in the garage and whisked our wet clothing into the dryer while simultaneously throwing together a quick lunch. (Mothers are wonderful multi-taskers, aren't we?)

By the time juniors naptime came, I was looking forward to a few moments of solitude and a gripping episode of Pit Bulls and Parolees. Just as I was about to learn if a sick dog was going to live or die, the wind and rain roared at speeds topping 90 mph and flicked our power on and off in a teasing game of "will I or won't I go out." At the most gripping moment of doggie survival, the power shut off with a snap. "Oh great," I grumbled. "So much for 'me' time."

After glancing outside, it was all too obvious why. A large tree across the streeet had snapped in two, landing in a hammock made of power lines, some having snapped and laying in a maze of twisting coils across our lawn and driveway.

That night we sat in candlelight, optimistic that the lights would be on in no time, and made the best of a fun family night.

By the next night we were still waiting, only this time with a grumpy toddler who had no chance of a nap without his Veggie Tales cd. Tired, grouchy, and unable to remove our car from the garage due to the cluttered driveway, we tried to stay patient.

Soon a truck made it's way up the hill and rounded the corner. Hoop hoop hooray!!!! I stifled the desire to dance around the room. The joy was short-lived however when the driver proceeded to chop the tree, shred it, and then drive away without restoring our precious electricity.

Naptime was... increasingly difficult. It began with: "Juice! Juice! Snack! Snack! Snack!!!" Which led to "Whaaaaa!!!! Whaaaaaaa!!!!!!" And eventually gave way to short cries and shrieks. And 45 minutes later had turned to "Mom? Mooom? MOOOOOOOM!!!"

Needless to say, naptime was a loss and my grouchy little man quickly turned into a firefighter who happily munched Honey Bunches of Oats (for the moment at least) on the sofa while I tried to gather my energy.

Day 3: Spirits were low. Most of the remenants of our fridge were either trash by now or safely stored in a mini fridge at dad's work. Mom was tired and wanted a nap. (This wasn't possible thanks to grumpy pouts, a wayward toddler, and being a highway at the moment for multiple large plastic trucks). Maddox was full of energy, impatient, and emitted angry cries of "Go! GO!!!" every few minutes, begging to be freed.

Lunch was pancakes and homemade brown sugar syrup on the gas grill. It would have been a fun picnick, had both our nerves not been so fried. Maddox spent most of the warm afternoon hauling our French Bulldog up and down the stairs and throwing himself on the ground if the dog resisted his directions.

By naptime, I still hoped  for fatigue to kick in and knock my little bullet of energy out for at least an hour. No luck...

After a few more hours of shouts, screeches, whines, and general displays of unhappiness (including four necessary trips to time-out), I'd had it. I was ready to do everything in my power to find freedom. At least car rides put junior to sleep and could ease some of the tension brought on by a naughty, tired pint-sized terror.

Without fully thinking of the possible consequences, I unlatched the safty lever on our garage and swung the door high. Ahhhhh, freedom was at hand!

I then grabbed a broom and a large branch and carefully moved the trecherous coils fully into the grass. (Note: Please do NOT attempt this on your own! Any contact with electrical wires is very dangerous and can result in death, as it did with a man in Memphis after this same storm hit them.)

At the moment though, I either didn't consider the full extent of the danger or my fried brain didn't care. I was free!!!! Or so I thought until realizing the car seat was safely strapped into my husband's car!

Panic set in as I desperately tried to drum up a plan that included getting to Walmart and buying the first toddler car seat I found. But the neighbors weren't home and as much as I wanted to tie Maddox up and drive to the store, it still couldn't be justified.

Thankfully, my husband agreed to be home in 30 minutes or less. (Which might have had something to do with threats of what would happen if he didn't intervene.)

Alas, the car seat was returned and my car was free to roam. I spent some time with my horse, then enjoyed a nice dinner (alone, listening to a talented guitarist) at a lovely french restaurant called Bicyclette that I've been dying to try, and by 9pm our lights were restored. Life was restored to normalcy once again and my sanity was safe for one more day.

But our moment without power leaves one to wonder: Why is it though that the son you desperately love and who is the center of your world also weilds the power to drive you to the verge of insanity?

Ahh love, is such a complicated thing!