Last weekend my husband and I celebrated our tenth wedding anniversary with a child-free weekend away. Who would have ever thought when we got married in 2000 that we’d have three children by now?
I looked back at our premarital counseling booklet, and I had to laugh out loud. The booklet contained...
I hear all kinds of entertaining tales from my four-year-old twins, and most of them are not even true.
At this age, they are masters of creative storytelling. They try to see what they can pull over on Mommy, and they like to make sure that someone else is to blame for any deed Mommy doesn’t like....
You can forget all the toys we have in our house. My 23-month-old son would rather play with the vacuum cleaner. In fact, Siler is pretty much obessed with the vacuum cleaner. I’m not exactly sure what he finds so appealing about the vacuum. Maybe he likes the loud noise that it makes, which is interesting...
This past weekend was a big deal for my husband. He competed in his first triathlon. For weeks, he had been training for this day, and the kids had listened to us talk about Daddy’s big race. Mark never asked us to come out to watch and support him, but I was adamant that we all be there. I wanted the...
You have to expect the unexpected. That’s my new motto for raising kids. I’ve learned in my four-year experience as a mom that when children are involved you never know what the day holds. For example, I had no idea when I woke up Thursday morning that I’d be taking my son, Eli, to the pediatrician’s...
To cut or not to cut….that is the question that has been weighing heavily on my mind. I couldn’t decide if my 21-month-old son had beautiful golden locks or if he was sporting a curly mullet. The first hair cut for a boy is such a big stinking deal, and every person under the sun has an opinion on...
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Lately I’ve felt like I’m trapped inside the children’s book “Five Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed.” Only in my version of the story, I have three monkeys, and my little monkeys are breaking their arms instead of bumping their heads.
Today was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. I think I’ll move to Australia….or at least into bubble until my luck turns around. Here’s how my day ran down. At around 9:30 a.m., I heard screams and crying. I ran out of the bathroom to find my 22-month-old son, Siler, balled up on... 
What happened to my sweet baby boy? Did someone sneak into my house and give him a personality transplant while I wasn’t looking? Suddenly, Siler’s as stubborn as a mule and will throw a temper tantrum worthy of an Oscar if he’s told he can’t do something that he has his mind set on doing.
I’m still standing. That’s nothing short of a miracle considering the stress I’ve been through in the last month. Moving is stressful enough. Tack on sickness and dealing with difficult people, and it was nearly enough to put this mother of three over the edge. That’s why I say the next...