Like I think lots of people that have been blogging for a while do, I find myself composing posts in my head at strange times… in the shower, standing in line at the grocery store, driving in the car.  I just can’t seem to find the time to actually write them down.  And then I realized I’d been lying to myself.  If blogging were truly a priority in my life right now, I’d make the time for it.  When I thought about it like that, I realized that it just…wasn’t.

I love this blog.  I’ve had some amazing opportunities because of it.  I’ve met great people and learned so much.  Having this blog as an outlet after my miscarriage helped me heal in a way I don’t think anything else could have.

But right now, at this moment in my life, I don’t have anything to devote to it.  And instead of feeling guilty as each day passes and I don’t write or post on Facebook or tweet, I’m just going to admit that this isn’t where my heart is right now.  I’m going to make the conscious choice to disconnect a little and not feel badly about it.

I may be in back in a few weeks, I may take the summer off, I may decide blogging just isn’t for me at all anymore.  I don’t really want to think that long term.

For now, I’m going to spend a little more time just staring at Spike while he’s still small and not trying to multitask so much.  A little more time giving Bink big hugs and snuggling while watching cartoons.  A little more time talking with K.  A little more time smooching my Hubby.  And a little more time baking, and reading for fun, and playing with my camera, and taking nature walks with the kids, and swimming at the beach, and keeping the laundry piles under control.

And a lot less time feeling guilty over those choices.

Even if I could get a hold of my electronics, I probably wouldn’t have the brain power to say anything coherent.  By the time the kids are asleep, my brain is pretty fried.  And nap time around here still involves trying to sneak in a shower, frantically cleaning up the debris of a toddler boy, or, on the really rough days, taking a nap myself.

But I wouldn’t feel too sorry for me.  There’s also been a lot of this…

Library Story Time

The Aquarium

Staring at these big blue eyes

Bear hugs

Baking

Nature (or ask Bink says “Neighbor”) walks

Testing out every playground and park in our county

If I ever make it to the end of the day again and still have coherent thoughts to write, I’ll do more than just share pictures.  For now, this is all my brain can handle.

Time to head to the beach…

Here’s yesterday’s beach afternoon through the eyes of Instagram.

Also, don’t forget to enter my Molly Maids giveaway for a $100 house cleaning gift certificate.

I’m still figuring out this whole stay at home Mom thing.  Some days I think I’ve got it all figured out …everyone is showered, fed, and entertained and dinner even made it on the table.  Other days no one goes down for a nap, Bink answers everything I say with “no”, and I realize as Hubby is coming home from work that I never even started the list of house cleaning chores I’d meant to finish that day. You win some, you lose some.

What I am slowly learning about myself is that if I look put together, I feel more put together, and my day feels a little smoother.  It is tempting when we don’t have to be anywhere to stay in yoga pants and a hoodie all day.  Or to not bother putting any make up on.  But those are the days I find myself dragging before 10 am.  When your day starts around 4:30 am it is very easy to be dragging by late morning, even with a cup of coffee or two under your belt.

The days that I’ve felt really good recently are the days when I make the effort, no matter how futile it feels at times, to dress nicely.  Now, my definition of “nicely” is pretty flexible.  Mostly I just mean something that I intentionally chose to wear because I feel good in it.  Not just something I’m wearing because I slept in it or because it was on top of the clean laundry hamper.

Lately that means a pair of jeans, a cute top, maybe some jewelry or a scarf, and my favorite boots or flip flops.  We’re not talking cocktail party wear, just something that I know is decent to be seen in public in.  Being that dressed up motivates me to take the extra 30 seconds to put eyeliner on or to wear my hair down instead of just pulling it in to a pony tail.  All of those little things that effort, which some days I don’t have a lot of to spare, but I’ve learned they actually pay out in the end.

Headed to story time at the library.  A cute scarf and giant sunglasses make a big difference…as does freshly washed hair.

Those days I feel better about the extra baby weight, feel a little more energized even in the trenches of lack of sleep, and end up accomplishing more.  My attitude is better so I’m better able to handle the hiccups of life at home with two small boys.  The baby puking in my freshly washed hair, for example.

I guess my point is that in the next few weeks there is going to be a lot of talk about “taking care of Mom” for Mother’s Day or “treating ourselves” for Mother’s Day.  Taking care of ourselves as Mothers shouldn’t happen one day out of the year and it doesn’t have to be anything major.  Finding things that make us feel good every day should be the goal.

And if nothing else I’ll have this post as a reminder to myself to go put on some mascara even when I don’t feel like it.

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So, for your viewing enjoyment, here is some footage of Spike dancing and some of him kicking around (complete with unrelated pottery discussion in the background).

I’m linking up with these Wordless/Wordful Wednesday sites: Angry Julie Monday, Project Alicia, Better in Bulk, Five Minutes For Mom, and Seven Clown Circus.

I don’t really know that any of those things ever sank in for Bink. The best thing we did to prepare him for his little brother’s arrival was actually by accident, caused by my neurotic pregnancy tendencies. About six weeks before Spike was born we put the infant car seat in our car. And because I wanted Spike’s seat directly behind me, it meant Bink’s spot had moved over to the passenger’s side (which booted K to the back row of the van).

Unfazed by his seat change, Bink was quite taken with the car seat itself. The car seat was for babies…therefore a baby must be around somewhere. For weeks Bink asked where Spike was. Was he at home? With Daddy? He’d be here soon? At one point he looked at me, sighed, and said “Mommy, when is Spike coming?” He was over the hype.

From the minute Spike arrived, Bink has been all over him. I was expecting sibling rivalry and tears over lost attention. Behavior regression and being mean to the baby. But I didn’t get any of that. Bink couldn’t have been happier about the new addition. By contrast, Bink and K have been fighting non-stop for the past eight weeks over EVERYTHING.

Before Spike arrived I read everything I could about transitioning an older child to life with a new sibling. I even packed gifts for the hospital from Spike for the older kids. But it boils down to just a few things that have really worked for us:

• Try to make some time that’s just for the older child

As rarely as I like to put Spike down, I try to make sure to find time each day that’s just for Bink. Sometimes it is during Spike’s naps, sometimes I just put him in playpen/bouncer/swing awake and go do something that’s just for Bink. We play a game or color or bake cookies or read a book or anything that he likes to do, it really doesn’t matter what.

And I try to take part in bedtime almost every night. Sometimes that’s exactly when Spike decides he needs to eat or to blow out his diaper, but most nights I make sure I’m in the bedtime routine (which for those interested is watching on episode of tv in Mommy and Daddy’s bed, moving to Bink’s bed to read a few books and sing a few songs, and then tucks by Daddy).

• Let the older child help when possible

Bink is pretty much all up in Spike’s business all the time. More often than not I’m telling him (for the 400th time) to give his brother a little space.  But when we can all handle it and when it is safe, I try to make sure Bink is involved.  He’s “helped” give Spike a bath, feed him a bottle, and change a diaper.  He helps pick out clothes, finds binkies, and winds up Spike’s mobile.  Bink’s at an age where he wants to help with almost anything I do.  If I’m doing something, even something as boring as loading the dishwasher, he’ll come over to ask “I help ya?”

So now there are a lot of things in my day that would be quicker or easier for me just to do alone, but instead I have a small helper by my side.  It took me a few tries to slow down to the toddler pace and accept that we won’t be efficient, but we will be spending time together.  Plus Bink is learning that we all do chores as part of a family, something that I’m constantly fighting to remind K about.

•  Make the baby wait sometimes

Poor Spike.  He does more than his fair share of waiting being the youngest of three.  With Bink, we’re constantly talking about waiting his turn or being patient–hard concepts at almost three years old.  Since Bink has to wait his turn pretty often while I’m feeding Spike, I try to show Bink when Spike has to wait his turn too.  It’s actually something I read online someplace, but the idea is basically that you talk to the infant just like you would the older child.  So if Spike is OK but just fussing a little and Bink and I are in the middle of something I’ll say to him “Just a second, Spike.  It’s Bink’s turn right now.” or “Mommy will be right there, Spike.  Just be patient a little longer.”

Now obviously Spike has no idea what I’m talking about, but Bink does.  And since I’ve started doing it, he is getting better at the idea of Spike getting to have turns too.  That doesn’t mean that Bink doesn’t whine from time to time when I tell him he needs to wait, but usually he just says “It’s Spike’s turn now? It’s my turn when he’s done.” (In case you can’t tell, Bink likes to narrate his day)

So that’s what’s been working for us.  The transition has been easier than I thought it would be overall.  I’ve even figured out how to grocery shop with two little ones all by myself.  Now if I can only get Bink and K to stop driving each other nuts for a few seconds…

Coffee in my PJs with a snuggly baby on my lap and a toddler by my side.  Morning arts and crafts projects.  Playtime at the “baby gym”.  A lunch time swim at the beach.  After nap piano concerts.  Playtime on the floor.  Double bath time.  Bed.

For the past two years I’ve participated in the Ultimate Blog Party each April.  It is a great way to find other blogs to read and bloggers to connect with.  This year’s party sneaked up on me a little, what with the six week old at home.

For my wonderful current readers, skip this post and go find some new blogs to read.  For those of you who are brand new here, welcome!  I’m Caitlin–a photography addict and recently converted stay-at-home-mom.  I have a six week old boy, Spike, a toddler boy, Bink, and a tween girl K.  I blog mostly about parenthood, marriage, and trying to figure out my DSLR camera.

The buttons to the right are the quickest way to navigate my blog and see what I talk about most.  To get you started, here are a few of my favorite recent posts:

• And Then Comes the Breakdown
• Family Manifesto
• Teaching A Toddler About a New Baby

And some oldies but goodies:

• Small Victories
• The Terrible {Not Quite} Two’s
• Strong Enough
• My Eccentric Toddler

Come visit me on Facebook, say hi on Twitter, or follow me on Pinterest.  Or just leave a comment below, I need to find some new blogs to read while Spike and I are up in the wee hours nursing!

It took most of those four weeks to feel like I got my feet under me.  Some days all I accomplished was nursing Spike.  Other days I managed to shower and clean something or leave the house to run errands.  We got into a routine and it started to feel easy.

Last Monday was Bink’s first day at home with us.  Suddenly it no longer felt easy.  The slow paced routine that worked for Spike and I did not work for Bink at all.  My oldest boy is kind of like a Husky puppy…sweet and full of energy.  Keep him penned up in the house and he’ll destroy it and be miserable.  Let him outside with a mountain to climb on to tire himself out and everyone is happier.

The first few days were actually pretty good.  We started out slowly in the morning with the boys watching cartoons and me cleaning up the kitchen and switching loads of laundry.  Then we did some arts and crafts, played with water colors, or built giant Lego towers.  We baked homemade bread and cookies and made dinners in the crock pot.  On Tuesday we even ventured out for a Gymboree class (more on that in another post) and grocery shopping.  We’d have lunch, snuggle in bed before nap time (which normally ended up being for all of us), and then get up to play outside in afternoon, water the garden, and just hang out.

On Thursday morning when I woke up I didn’t feel right.  I had a nasty headache and just couldn’t get motivated to get moving.  I gave in to a lazy day of watching movies and cartoons with the boys.  All morning I kept telling Bink I’d get his “project” (what he calls arts and crafts) ready soon, but I couldn’t seem to get off the couch.  By naptime that afternoon I still didn’t feel any better.  I slept fitfully, but hadn’t managed to shake the headache.

Around two pm I picked up the phone to call Hubby.  He’d been planning to leave work around 3 pm so we could take the boys to see the Easter Bunny.  I was going to tell him I wasn’t feeling great and that I wasn’t up to cooking dinner or keeping up our evening plans.  By the time Hubby answered the phone all I had time to do was say “hold on!” as I muted my phone and tossed my cookies into the toilet.  Instead I pitifully asked Hubby to come home early.

In the half hour it took Hubby to get home, I got sick three more times, making me realize how hard it to yak and watch two children.  Bink watched cartoons and called for me to bring him a drink.  Spike cried in his crib.  I laid on the floor of the bathroom.

Hubby got home and took over with the kids.  I continued to get sick every ten minutes or so.  Eventually I asked him to call the insurance company to get our new information (we’d switched from my work’s plan to his and our new cards hadn’t come yet) and to call my Mom to have her come watch the kids while he took me to the doctor.  And then Hubby started to turn a little green himself.

We spent the late afternoon at the urgent care center with poor Hubby taking his turn at being ill.  We were diagnosed with a stomach virus.  I eked by not getting sent to the emergency room because I was just starting to be able to keep liquids down, meaning my dehydration shouldn’t get any worse.  By the time we left there at 6 pm, I was feeling slightly better and Hubby was in the worst of it.  Thankfully my parents stayed with us until the kids were asleep, since I don’t think I could have found the energy to put Bink to bed.

By the next morning we were both physically fine, but completely wiped out.  And then the next stage of fun began.  Since I’d gotten so dehydrated the day before, my milk supply was non-existent.  This did not please Spike one bit.  Over the next two days he nursed almost every hour, but I could tell he just wasn’t getting enough to fill his little belly.  A few times a day Hubby would give him a bottle of defrosted pumped milk and he would finally sleep a little with his full tummy.

It took until Sunday for everyone to really, finally get back to normal.  Thankfully the children didn’t get it, since I can’t even fathom how awful that would have been on them (and us).  Needless to say it put a crimp in my blogging style over the past week.

And poor Bink never did get to do the project I promised him.