Friday

The weekend is here! Not only is it the weekend, but it is also John's Spring Break. Hosanna! A break from the daily routine has never come at a better time. We have been tuckered out lately.

This weekend some friends from church are hosting an Easter Egg Hunt. I am so excited. Last year Grayson was a little too young to appreciate a good egg hunt. I think he has a little more competitive edge this year. Sunday afternoon we are headed down to Savannah to spend a few days with the fam. My sister-in-law will give Lucy her first swim lesson. It's become a family tradition that my sister-in-law is the first one to take our kids swimming. I love traditions that form organically.

Have a fantastic weekend! I'll leave you with some good music from Athens.

Three Years Past

Taken less than a week before his accident. 

Tomorrow is the three-year anniversary of my brother-in-law's motorcycle accident that resulted in his traumatic brain injury. It's been three years but I can still vividly recall the day of the accident and the months that followed. I would have suspected that everything from the day of the accident to the months following the accident would be a blur, but they aren't.  I remember what I was doing and where I was sitting when John called to tell me that there had been an accident. I remember giving the EMT correct identification for Scott, seeing Scott's bent up motorcycle, getting hugs from all the people I know who happened to be in the vicinity when the accident occurred - I got a hug from a girl I had not seen since college. It still blows my mind how many people I know were at the accident site. We had plans to go out for a Birthday dinner for my mother-in-law the night of the accident. I had a list of funny stories from the trip we took to Florida the weekend before I especially wanted to tell Scott. That night I stood at his hospital bed and told him the stories, even though he was in a coma. I awkwardly laughed at the points in the story I knew Scott would find humorous. My awkward laughs and forced enthusiasm were met only with the haunting sounds of pumping oxygen and Scott's oscillating bed.

I remember the eery sounds of the ICU waiting room, especially at night. On the opposite side of the spectrum, I remember the overwhelming gratitude and love I felt when I came out of the ICU to see dozens of friendly faces in the waiting room. I will be forever indebted and bonded to the friends who gathered at the hospital that night and for the days to follow. I can recall the chilling sounds of the emergency helicopter - probably the same one that transported Scott - as it would land on the helipad by the parking garage. We watched the sun set over the city by the helipad multiple nights in a row. It was a bittersweet experience each time. The smell of the ointment that was lathered on Scott's scraped up skin will forever be with me. The first time I used a specific diaper cream on Grayson I was struck with the familiar smell of Scott's hospital room. Needless to say, I quickly found a different brand of diaper cream. The days following the accident I took a shower immediately when I got home, trying so hard to scrub off the distinct smell of the ICU waiting room. A few weeks after the accident, after Scott was transferred to The Shepherd Center, I caught a whiff of the ICU waiting room on my purse. I have not used that purse since.

There is so much about Scott's accident that we have had to process and so much we have yet to process. There is so much left unknown. I don't know how to describe a traumatic brain injury. Repeatedly heartbreaking. The Wild West. Isolating. Life-changing. Utterly confusing. Every time I think I begin to understand something about this whole situation, I realize how much I can't make sense of any of it. The Bible says that God's ways and thoughts are not the same as ours. That has never been made more clear to me.

Scott was fortunate enough to transfer from the ICU go to The Shepherd Center. Since our experience with The Shepherd Center, I have met so many other families who have had their own experiences there. On average I meet about one person a month that has a connection to The Shepherd Center.  Most families who get involved with The Shepherd Center have a commonality - they are new to the world of traumatic injuries. It's not a place where anyone's life is as it should normally be. Looking back on those days and evenings, making our home in the family room of The Shepherd Center, it still amazes me at how quickly we adapted to the way of life that comes with traumatic injury recovery. We started using terms that had never entered our vocabulary before. We moved our expectations so that a simple smile was major news. We took every piece of news with so much weight, even though we knew it best to be emotionally cautious.

One of the most striking things about The Shepherd Center is that it is a time of limbo for everyone. Everyone is working on recovery, and it is uncertain for anyone what their recovery will look like. Everyone at The Shepherd Center has a story of two lives. Life before the accident and life after the accident. One of the most emotional days I had at The Shepherd Center snuck up on me. Scott was sitting in his wheelchair in the general therapy room. He was not yet verbal and had very limited response to conversation. As I approached him I could see his various tattoos through his white t-shirt. I could make out his tattoo that spread across his back, spelling out his last name. I looked around the room and I saw three different men with multiple tattoos peeking out of their shirts. Each person in the room had a life and interests before his accident. The Scott I was visiting did not acknowledge his tattoos. I tried to imagine each man in the room working with an artist to create his tattoos. I could not picture any of the men sitting in a tattoo chair. That simple thought made it was obvious how different their lives were.

Three years after the accident Scott is still on the road to recovery. It's proven to be a long and winding road. The more time that passes the farther we get from Scott's old life and the more we are forced to adapt to his new life, life post accident. The new Scott is not likely to sit in a tattoo chair anytime soon. The accident gave us a new Scott, a Scott who is intrigued by the little nuances in life. So much of the confusion about Scott's accident lies in what to expect for the future. The only way I know to deal with that confusion is to pray that Scott will be able to live his post-accident life to the full.

Fearful Voters

Have you seen this Santorum ad? When did political ads become horror movie trailers? Can we address the issue of how twisted it is to have people who want to lead the country by preying on the fear of the masses?

A Mad Men Tribute of Sorts

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My tribute to the Mad Men premiere this week is this cautionary post that references January Jones consuming her placenta. During one of my maternal health classes we received recipes for cooking up the placenta, everything from brownies to lasagna. Truth be told, I wanted to keep the placenta when Grayson was born. I wanted to bury it and plant a tree over it. It could have been the organ that lived on. The gift that kept on giving. We were living in an apartment at the time so we could either contribute to the landscape of our building or plant the placenta in a pot that would travel with us during our moves. Neither option seemed optimal. I started to suspect that the placenta would stay in the freezer next to our deer meet, only to be tossed out when we moved. How terrible for the garbage man to find a frozen placenta? I delivered Grayson at a highly routine and medical hospital, so the issue quickly became moot because taking my placenta home was not an option. So that was that. I felt a little cheated. Funny how things change the second time around - I probably could have taken the placenta home after Lucy was born, but all I wanted to do was look at it, give it a brief salute, and thank it for all the vital work it did during the pregnancy.

Do you have any strong feelings towards your placenta?

Breathing and Smiling.

For the past few months each Monday has come at me like something fierce. Things have been perpetually busy but every Monday seems to kick everything into a higher gear, more hectic. I often feel like I am holding my breath through the week and I let out a sigh of relief come Friday. From Monday through Thursday I sometimes have to literally remind myself to breathe. This photo on Pinterest made me smile. My guess it was taken by a 16-year-old. It makes me wonder what is so crazy and tense in her life?

What do you do to relax? Do you feel like Americans are too busy?

Friday Favorites

Instagram
About a year ago I downloaded the Instagram app. I took one photo and completely forgot about it. Recently John got hooked on taking pictures through Instagram. When I tried to download Instagram on my phone a couple of weeks ago I sheepishly realized I had been sitting a gold mine for almost a year. My rekindled affair with this app has me obsessed. I am sure the folks following me on Instagram are already tired of seeing pictures of Grayson and Lucy, but they are my muses at this point in time. Do you follow only folks you know or also celebrities?

Inexpensive Celebrations
Grayson's Birthday is Saturday. Being almost 2-years-old means that Grayson is obsessed will all forms of transportation. He gets so excited when he sees cars, buses, plains, trains, you name it. To celebrate Grayson's Birthday we are going to take the MegaBus. We aren't going to Paris... but we are going to the Paris of the South, Atlanta (ha!). It's only $1 each way! Grayson's Birthday celebration is costing us a total of $6. I am hoping that we get to ride a double-decker bus, and that we get the front seat so Grayson can get the full effect. We are leaving Athens at 7am, arriving in downtown Atlanta around 8:40. The plan is to walk to J. Christopher's for breakfast and then head to Piedmont Park. We will hop back on the bus at 11am to Athens. This will either be an amazing experience, or incredibly stressful and tiring. We will see. Either way, it will be a memory in the bank.

Happy weekend!

Thought-Provoking Thursday: Full Disclosure?

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Last week I read this blog post from Motherlode about the dilemma of whether or not to disclose a pregnancy to a perspective employer. I had this dilemma when I was pregnant with Grayson. When I was nine months pregnant with Grayson I began applying for jobs outside Atlanta that would be more baby-friendly. I was uncertain about what approach to take in addressing my pregnancy, whether it should be addressed at all. I did not know the best strategy for going into an interview nine months pregnant. I picked out clothing that would minimize, maybe even hide my pregnancy. I did not want to be discounted the moment an employer saw my stomach. As things would turn out, I was in early labor when I was scheduled to have an interview. I had no option but to disclose my pregnancy, since I thought it would be worse to just randomly ask to reschedule the interview. It was surreal to email an potential employer to ask him to rearrange his schedule because I was in labor. My cover was blown. My disclosure did not hurt my cause, though. I got the job. Admittedly, I was very surprised I got the job. I continually told myself that no one in their right mind would hire a woman who just had a baby. I guess I am biased.

What are your thoughts? I think the dilemma could be challenging for women who about to get married as well. Would you tell an employer that you are engaged? It seems like a red flag to me.

Why I am a Terrible Person: A Cautionary Tale

Yesterday I did a bad thing. I tell this story partially as a confession, but mostly as a public service announcement. I normally do not do things like I did yesterday, but it's just where I'm at right now.

The Target in Athens has been on the up-and-up lately. It recently upgraded to having luxury shopping carts, and yesterday it opened its grocery section. Now the Athens' Target is essentially a Super Target without the title. I go to Target way too often. Every time we browse through the aisles of Target Grayson wants a snack. This is probably due to the Pavlovian training I have done with Grayson. Every time Grayson sits in the red shopping cart he inevitably receives a snack to keep him busy so I can shop. His snack is usually a Kashi bar. Since the grocery section was open yesterday I decided to branch out and go for some fruit. I hate the idea of not washing fruit before eating, but sometimes it's fun and practical to just dive in.

I pulled a plastic carton of strawberries off the shelf and offered one to Grayson. He did not want strawberries. I put the strawberry back in the carton and put the carton in our cart, accepting that I would have to buy the strawberries since I touched one. I then grabbed a carton of blueberries. Grayson went as far as to hold a blueberry in his toddler germ-caked fingers, but then decided he did not want blueberries. He wanted the blackberries he spotted on the shelf. Somehow I justified putting the carton of blueberries back on the shelf for someone else to buy. I don't know why it was okay for me to replace the blueberries but not the strawberries. I justified putting the blueberries back by the fact that Grayson had not held the blueberry that long and everyone should practice good public health and wash their fruit anyway, even though I was not practicing good public health by returning the fruit. Hypocritical, I know, but I had a friend with me who validated my idea for returning the blueberries. the peer validation made me think that everyone  returns touched fruit to the shelf.

As if my confession about returning the touched blueberry carton to the shelf was not enough, this cautionary tale continues. Target is running a BOGO this week: buy one home item, get one half off. I have never seen Target run a BOGO, so it's kind of a big deal. We were browsing the home section, Grayson was devouring the blackberries by the fistful. Everything was moving along lovely when Grayson decided to balance the carton of strawberries on the edge of the cart. Rather, Grayson attempted to balance the carton of strawberries on the cart. The strawberries came crashing down, and every single strawberry flew across the floor of the home section. My friend and I quickly gathered all the strawberries, some leaving juice on the floor, all the while debating what we should do with the tainted carton. Leave the carton randomly on a shelf in home section and quickly walk away? No, that's rude. Throw it out? No, is that stealing?  Put the strawberries back on the shelf where I found them? No, never. Buy the strawberries but throw them away? No, that's wasteful. Buy the strawberries and wash them thoroughly?I guess so.

I decided to bite the bullet and buy the strawberries. I continued to cruise through the aisles of Target for about ten minutes after the strawberry fiasco. Each time I put something new in the cart I looked at the strawberries and had pre-buyer's remorse. I really did not want to deal with the dirty strawberries. I know so much fruit is filthy - the blackberries Grayson chowed down were covered in who knows what - but I have not never bought fruit I knew was on the floor. As I was making my way to the cashier I had an admittedly low moment. I rolled over the grocery section and I replaced the strawberries on shelf. I placed them in the back of the other strawberry cartons, thinking that this was a more noble thing to do, since they could potentially rot before someone could buy them. At the end of the day, though, someone could easily buy the carton of strawberries that were so helplessly lying on the Target floor.

Moral of the story, wash your fruit because there are public health terrorists out there like me.

Do you have any terrorist stories of your own? Or am I the only low-life?

College No More

This week is Hunger Games week. It seems like everywhere I turn I see a reference to The Hunger Games. I am surprised I am not burned out by all the hype. John and I had tickets to the midnight premiere. For weeks I have been excited about the premiere. My excitement was not only for the movie itself, but also for the crowds that come to premieres. I love crowd dynamics.

Last night, in the darkest hours of the night, as I was trying to coax Lucy to go back to sleep, it dawned on me that John and I were foolish to consider going to the premiere. Why intentionally give up sleeping during prime sleep hours? Would I actually be awake enough to enjoy the movie? The first thing I said to John in the morning was that I was thinking we needed to skip the premiere. My words felt like an admittance of defeat. Not only did I have to accept that I am too tired to add frivolous activities to my night, but I am also clearly not in college anymore. I know at least a dozen college students who are going to the premiere - with props to boot! The biggest concerns those folks have are if they can darken their room enough the next day to catch up on their sleep and if they are going to go to class. It's times like these I miss college. So many opportunities and so much energy to be random.

Do you miss college?

We're In. Almost Completely.

The past days have been full of boxes, organizing, and not enough hours in the day. Grayson stayed with the grandparents Friday and Saturday night so we could maximize our time. Friday and Saturday I felt like I was racing the clock, knowing that Sunday morning we would be busy with a toddler again. Friday we finished painting our priority rooms. I don't recommend painting multiple rooms at a time. I quickly tired of painting and I slacked off in my precision. Multiple times I told reminded myself that Future Shannen will probably be frustrated with the Past Shannen who opted to do a poor paint job, instead of taking the extra time to do it right. My personal comeback to those thoughts was, "Whatever. It's just where I'm at right now. Future Shannen needs to understand that." Don't you love it when your past, present, and future self gang up on each other?

By Saturday evening we were about 80 percent moved in to the new house. We decided to do a no-pack move, since we were moving such a short distance. Our strategy takes a lot of trips, but we don't have any boxes that need unpacking. During a break from moving Saturday evening we went to dinner at The Grit with our friends Stephen and Alise, who will be moving from Atlanta and into our old house in June. Our server at The Grit was none other than one of the hiptsers who used to live in our house! When I originally looked at the house she was home and she answered my questions about the house in great detail. So much detail, in fact, that we knew to ask in the contract for specific renovations. She was so much help. The seller felt like she was too honest and too much help, but she stood by her decision to be upfront with us. While we were eating dinner it was nice to chat with someone who spent the past two years living in our new house, but there was also a level of surreal awkwardness. My Grit experiences will be interesting as long as she works there. Why it's awkward I don't know, but it is.

Falling in Love

The past couple of weeks with the kids have been especially enjoyable. Grayson will be 2-years-old next week, which means everyday he is a wild card of emotion, and Lucy is a three month old girl who insists that the world take notice of her. If I focused only on the complex times with the kids I would always be wondering why John and I ever even entertained the idea of being parents. Thankfully, though, the rich times outshine the developmental chaos that kids endure.  Despite his fragile emotional state, Grayson has started to really shine. Despite her celebrity attitude, Lu has started to show some her of ever-endearing personality. For a while I thought that the days with the kids felt easier and more enjoyable because Grayson and Lu started interacting with each other more - they have a game of mimicking each other's sounds that ends in both of them laughing. Their interaction has provided some entertainment, but that was not what changed things. Yesterday I realized what it was: I'm in love.

I did not fall in love with Grayson immediately. I so often hear pregnant women say that they are in love with their unborn child. I read status updates to the gist (actually to the verbatim) of, "So-and-so was born today! I am so in love with him!" I don't doubt that these women are in love, but that was definitely not my experience. I loved being pregnant, and I enjoyed the special relationship I had with Grayson when I was pregnant, but if I really thought about it, I did not think about how in love I was with Grayson, I thought about what an alien-like experience it was to be pregnant. Think about it: a human grows inside another human. So weird.

When Grayson was born my first thoughts were not of head-over-heals love. I'm not even sure if love was in my realm of emotions after Grayson was born. I distinctly remember feeling the weight of responsibility like I had never felt before when I delivered Grayson and the midwife placed him on my chest. That feeling of responsibility lingered. I kept thinking, "This is it. I will forever be a parent. There is no taking this back." The first few months after Grayson was born I could not honestly post a status about being in love, if I had wanted to. Most of my emotions we directed at trying to accommodate the transition in our family from being just me and John, and the major life change of becoming a mother.

It's not that I did not love Grayson when he was first born. I definitely loved him and I cared for him relentlessly, but I was not in love. For the first couple of months of his life Grayson was mainly the responsibility that I was given. Part of my responsibility as a mother was to love Grayson. It was not until the transition period gave way, and Grayson secured his role in our new family, that I fell in love. When Grayson was around 12 weeks old I realized that I was in love. I went back to work when Grayson was around 10 weeks old. Initially going back to work was tough, but it was not as tough as I thought it would be. I realized I had fallen in love with Grayson when going to work became harder, when I missed him more, when my heart longed to see him every moment. I vividly remember telling John when I fell in love with Grayson. I had been waiting to fall in love with Grayson, and when it happened it was so great.

When it came time for me to have Lucy I did not know what to expect. I did not put any expectations on myself to be in love immediately, but I thought that I may fall in love with Lu easier because I was already a mother and my heart knew what to expect. When the midwife put Lu on my chest I did not feel the deadweight of responsibility, but I did not feel overwhelming feelings of love either. I remember feeling very matter-of-fact, like, "Okay, our second child... check!" It was strange. The night after Lu was born was extremely rough for me. Her birth caused me to mourn the little three-person family we had. Before Lu was born, John, Grayson, and I had a good rhythm. Lu's arrival threw off that rhythm. I knew that we would eventually find a new rhythm, but I also knew that life would never be the same as it had been with just Grayson. My feelings of what I was losing were hurtles to me falling in love with Lu.

As when I had Grayson, even though I was not in love with Lu I still gave her love. I knew that at some point I would be in love. I originally thought I would fall in love with Lu easier and quicker than I did with Grayson, but I think it took a little longer because I was divided in my attention. When Lu was born Grayson was just beginning to break out of baby shell, and I wanted to spend all the time possible with Grayson so I could get to know him as a  toddler. Also, comparatively, babies are nowhere near as entertaining as toddlers, so I was not as intrigued with Lu's ability to open her eyes or breathe, as I was with Grayson's comedic timing and growing social skills.

Over the days, as Lu started to wake up from her newborn fog I caught myself falling for her. She requires a lot of attention. She has a sense of humor. She is sassy. She is super smiley. She can be feisty. And I am completely in love with it all. We have a new family rhythm and I would not change it for anything right now.

Did you fall in love immediately? Share your story!

Moments I would not have, if not for Lu:

Child's Brain

I'm certain this has already gone viral, but John and I were laughing so hard at this letter to the weatherman the other day.

What Would Make Me Cooler

There comes a point in life when you start to accept what your strengths and weaknesses are. I want to believe that no matter how old I get I can still improve my weaknesses and strengthen my strengths. At the end of the day, though, I think there are some things that I may plateau on. Over the years I have learned that there are things that I don't really enjoy, but I wish I did. And there are certain things that I just can't seem to be good at, no matter how hard a try.

Here is a list of some things that I feel would make me a much cooler and more interesting person if I liked and/or could do better:

Running. It seems like everyone I know has run at least a half marathon. Probably once a year I toss around the idea of training for a half marathon... Then I remember, running is not one of my strengths. I will go as far to say that I am not designed for it.

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Cooking. So many of my friends are foodies. If I had to put a percent on it, I would say 87 percent of my friends are foodies. I love the idea of cooking great meals. I love the thought of eating delectable recipes made by my hand. This is not my strength though. As John says, "The cooking bug never really stuck with you." I try. Every few months I pick up steam again and try to venture out to using new recipes. Sometimes I feel like Ash on Fantastic Mr. Fox, when he is trying to improve his athletic ability.
"Am I getting better, Coach?"
"Well, you're sure as cuss not getting any worse."

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Yoga & Pilates. Maybe I just haven't taken the right class yet. The other day I went to a Pilates class with an overweight instructor who did not actually do the positions; she just described them. At one point the instructor said to a woman in the class, "Wow, I wish I could do that position as good as you!" Talk about a time when I completely questioned the ability of authority! My physical therapist swears by yoga and Pilates as a sure-fire method to getting my core back. I think now is the time to strengthen this weakness.

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Gardening. It's simple; I kill everything.

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Technology. I often think about how great it would be if I knew how to do graphic design, use my camera to its full potential, be hip with technology. Sometimes I amp myself up to learn new technology tricks but I quickly burn out. I think I use the technology I have at about 10 percent of its capacity, at best.

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What are some things on your list?

Since I Missed Friday: Sunday Update

Since we closed on the Artist Bungalow last week things have been busy. It's all real now. Once I got into the empty house I quickly saw a list of things we needed to do. We started painting on Saturday. I got one room painted and I was ready to call it quits. A friend from church is a painter; he did an assessment of our space and may take on the job for us. A week ago I would have been eager to do it ourselves, but at this point I am more than happy to outsource. I'm ready to make this move as simple as possible.

At times John and I have felt like we have bitten off more than we can chew. We have had to force ourselves to keep a sense of humor during this chaotic time. Here are some of the things I have found especially humorous lately:

Grayson continues to try to share everything with Lucy. Today he balanced his peanut butter sandwich on Lu's head, in attempt to entice Lu to eat it.

One of my dearest friends is due in just a few short weeks, on April 1. In some ways I have been more excited for her pregnancy than I was for my own. Since we live across the country from one another, I have been begging Morgan for a bump photo. She thinks bump photos are awkward so she tried to convey her feelings in the photo. I think she did a good job. 

Thought-Provoking Thursday: All Women Equal?

It's International Women's Day. This year's theme is "Empower Women - End Hunger and Poverty". I was excited when I started reading and hearing about Women's Day in the news, but this morning I got to thinking - why is Women's Day not celebrated in the States? There are news blurbs, and politicians makes comments, but that seems to be where the day ends. It's a national holiday in many countries, especially those in Eastern Europe. I don't believe the countries that designate today as a national holiday necessarily value women more than the US values women, so why has this day not picked up momentum here? I know that we do not have as high of a population of women who are facing hunger and poverty than in developing countries, but there are definitely hungry women living in poverty trying to make it day-by-day in the US.

The more I think about International Women's Day, the more I am confused. On the one hand it is clearly a political day, a day to call attention to the needs and progress of aide to women across the world. On the other hand, it seems like it is just a day to celebrate womanhood. Would it be a frivolous American thing to use Women's Day to celebrate all the fun things about being a woman, when women across the world are focused on just having their basic needs met? Would it be greedy if today in the States we focused on women being able to speak their mind without the risk of being publicly slandered (ie maniac radio personalities) when there are women in other countries just praying not to endure torture and rape?

What are your thoughts? What should Women's Day be about? Would it be strange to have different themes for different countries?

Maternal Judgement

Sometimes parenting makes me feel like I am 14 years old again. I can feel like I am under the microscope. Like I am being critiqued. Like I have to measure up to some parenting standard. Like there is some cool crowd style I am supposed to conform to. If I think too much about parenting I go batty. So many opinions. So many folks who are certain they have the right techniques for raising my children. There are times when I really connect with the motherhood community and I think to myself, "Gee, we are all just trying to make it through this stage together." Then there are the other times. There are the times when I have conversations with mothers who know everything and appear to have it all figured out. Those are the times I catch myself starting to fume and get into fighting position. In those moments I no longer care about the motherhood community. I take on the Hunger Games  mentality and think, "May the odds be in your favor." In those moments I am ready to battle the opinionated mother (or maybe non-mother... it's very possible). I have debated blogging about some of my encounters. I don't want to alienate folks, but the stories are rich. Sometimes I even agree with the practices of these super confident women who send me into a rage. Sometimes I actually practice the same parenting style as them. So it is not actually their opinions or style that wrecks me, it is the judgement that I can so easily feel. I love this piece in the Huffington Post about maternal judgement.

I definitely connected with the Huffington Post piece. When I was pregnant with Grayson we had grand plans of how we would parent. I saw so many blogs and Facebook posts of women who clearly have 40 hours a day to do crafts with their children, have a completely organic life, keep a perfectly decorated home, cook elaborate meals, throw creative parties, go on amazing vacations, have perfectly witty and enthusiastic family outings,  and still have time to talk about it all. The bar is set pretty high for what it looks like to be a parent. At the end of the day, none of that matters though. What matters is that I raise my children in the way that is best for them and what works best for our family. Now I don't care so much about living out a certain parent persona, but rather just doing what needs to get done for my family. I think that is the responsibility of every mother. Do what you need to do and brush off the rest. This morning I had to fish out a letter "M" alphabet graham (euphemism for cookie) from Lucy's mouth. Grayson is our little Socialist and likes to give everything to his sister. The incident highlighted two things: 1) I was preoccupied for longer than one second, so Grayson had time to get a cookie in Lu's mouth, and 2) We officially give Grayson cookies in the morning. I am sure the pre-parent Shannen would have something to say about this, but all the parent Shannen can say is, "It's just where I'm at right now."

Potion

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This morning I woke up looking like I spent the last five days camping. The reason: coconut oil. Yesterday when John and I were closing on our house (Our home owner status is official! Yikes!), I noticed my friend, Karen, had very smooth and healthy-looking hair. Clearly I was focused on the legal jargon of closing on a house... Any rate, I complimented Karen on her hair and she shared her secret with me. She uses coconut oil on her hair every night. She also makes a coconut oil lotion which she uses all over her body. A couple of years ago I attempted to make my own lotion. It was not a complete flop, but it was not a total success. Karen helped bring my lotion inspiration back. Last night I started with the simple coconut oil in the hair and on my face trick. The immediate results were debatable - my hair still looked a little greasy after my shower, but I am willing to give this trick a solid try.

Walled In

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We are going to close on the Artist Bungalow any day now. Yesterday John and I looked inside the Artist Bungalow to confirm that the renters completely moved out. The Bungalow is empty, just waiting for us. We have a list of house projects to complete before officially moving in. I am sure our list will grow once we get back inside the Artist Bungalow and see what everything looks like empty.

One of the first major projects is to paint. Some of the rooms are painted colors I don't particularly love, others are too dark for the small space, and others could just use a fresh look. Wallpaper has been on my mind lately. I have actually toyed with the idea of hanging wallpaper. I don't have my finger exactly on the pulse of home design, but I know wallpaper is a fad of a few decades ago. I feel like we may see it come back in style here soon, though. I have seen so many neat wallpaper designs. After tossing around the idea of committing to wallpaper I decided that I don't have the time or emotional energy to hang wallpaper well right now. My alternative has been to try my hand at stenciling. Stenciling is a commitment but less so than wallpaper.

Here are some fun finds from Etsy. Thoughts?

Weekend Recap: Laughter

I don't know when Grayson first laughed. Somehow I missed his initial laugh. Or maybe I didn't miss it, but I don't recall it. This evening John and I were chatting while Grayson was taking a bath. I was holding Lucy and she started making a noise. After Lucy made her noise a couple of times we realized she was LAUGHING! Her belly laugh was so endearing. The best part of the entire moment was that Lu was laughing at Grayson. Once Grayson realized he was making Lu laugh he hammed it up even more. It was one of those moments. 

Friday Favorites

The weekend is here! I will be teaching a class in Atlanta all day Saturday, and we will probably do some light packing to prepare for our upcoming move. It should be a good weekend.

Here are some of my favorites:

A few months ago I discovered the Aljazeera Birthrights series on YouTube. Fascinating! I particularly like this episode.

I love this project for NPR's Backseat Book Club. I particularly like the caption on photo 16.

This is one of the most interesting food concepts I have seen in a while.

Have a great weekend! Any fun plans?

Thought-Provoking Thursday: Life Without Children

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During the past couple of weeks Lucy realized she is alive. The endearing "fourth trimester" most babies experience after birth has come to an end and Lu is beginning to take on her personality. It has been fun to see glimpses of what Lu's future personality may be like. Most signs are pointing to the fact that she will be feisty, but we will see who she actually becomes. I don't want to typecast her too early.

Grayson's recent developmental growth spurt and Lu's decision to tell us how she feels, has left very busy on the parenting front. Throw into the mix my return to work and our upcoming move, and there is a recipe for exhaustion. I keep reminding myself that in a few months this wild time will be just a memory and it will not seem as tough, even though every parent I talk to affirms that these months are a total bear - which tells me that they remember how tough things can be. I stare at mothers with older children and I tell myself that there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

I would be lying if I said my heart was boiling over with maternal joy every moment of the past three months. There have been many times when I have thought, "How did I get here?" The combination of tiredness and lack of personal time has led John and I to jokingly say to one another, "Our life!", when things are particularly tiring. Frankly, every morning this week I have started off by saying to myself and aloud, "My life..." The more tired we get the more John and I tend to reminisce about life before kids. Yesterday when I was in Atlanta I drove past so many places that John and I frequented before kids. We can never go back in time. Even when we go on dates or have a weekend away we are still parents. We still have little human beings depending on us. We still have the logistics to figure out just so we can get time for just the two of us. Pretending that we do not have children for a night or weekend will never be the same as when we did not have children.

Not every moment is this stuck-in-a-dark-damp-tunnel kind of moment, though.  That's kind of the paradox of having children. We have so many rich moments with the kids. I love watching Grayson and Lu interact. I thoroughly enjoy days like yesterday, where we just get in the car and go on an adventure, even if that adventure is simply going to IKEA. Whenever John and I are away from the kids and free from their immediate needs, we find ourselves talking about them, quoting Grayson, or looking forward to getting back to see them. When we went to Asheville for a weekend away from the kids we spent a  good portion of our time looking for fun gifts to bring back for Grayson and Lu. We missed the kids. A lot.

I am learning that raising children will be one of the hardest - if not the hardest - things I ever do. When I think back to my life before kids I briefly wonder why we gave up so much freedom to raise children. As quickly as that thought comes to my mind it is pushed out by the fact that for every minute that tough or tiring, there are so many greater riches to outweigh those hard moments. The kids bring riches that we could never experience without them. KJ Dell'Antonia's rebuttal on Motherlode to this New York Times article came at the heals of our weekend away from the kids. I like her take on things.

What do you think?