Gotta Love the Second Trimester

After 8 weeks of morning sickness (aka unrelenting nausea that lasts all day), I can shout from the rooftops: We are expecting number three!!!

Up until last week's ultrasound I honestly didn't believe it myself. My mind had settled in a state somewhere between disbelief and happiness. We told Wes and Chan straight away and their support and excitement helped make it real for us, reinforcing our reasons for wanting a third child. Nearly every day they ask about the size of their sibling (Bigger than a grape today Mommy?) and like to make guesses on the gender (their opinions frequently change). Being boys, they find it hilarious to call me "the pregnant lady" or point out how big my "boobies" are.

They want t-shirts that say "Team Big Brothers," which is an awesome idea. They are going to be the best brothers any kid could wish for. This is an awesome time and we feel very blessed.

Just another day as a graphic designer.

So much for blogging on Mondays. I have been slammed with work for several weeks, and all spare time has gone out the window. While the boys are at school, I'm in the studio designing {this magazine}—and then I'm back up there again after their bedtime. It's stressful and exhausting at this point, since all of the fun and creative art direction took place months ago. Now it's all edits, formatting, converting images, etc. Just another day as a graphic designer. I'm happy to have work. But I'm pooped.

Today I managed to squeeze in a 2-hour afternoon play date with a good friend and her boys. It was very nice to chat over a cup of tea, and think about something other than InDesign files. Also, it proved to be a healthy reminder to shower. Seriously, I need to shower. Right now, in my post-dinner haze I am thinking about showering. The kids are fed... they will be bathed shortly... the magazine is looking good... and therefore I can take 15 minutes to shower. Maybe even moisturize. Let's do this. (And then back to work.)

This poster hangs in my studio :: "Another Day Another Dropshadow" by Amerikan Made

House Rules: Part 1, Mutiny

It's official. My sweet, precious children have finally turned on me. They have stopped listening, behaving, obeying, following the rules (even accepting bribes). Perhaps they are stir crazy after five months indoors. Either way, they've given up. And I can't blame them... It's difficult to be good all the time, to follow the rules. 

We've been through this phase of mutiny before, a couple times in fact. In the past, I've consulted mommy friends, countless parenting books, and even asked my parents for advice. But this time I'm wiser. It's not the kids. It's me. I've become a lazy parent. This is why: The rules that my children have to follow are the same rules that I need to follow—and enforce. This requires dedication and steadfast labor. It's EXHAUSTING.

I find all other aspects of parenting to be a breeze, compared to providing discipline. Here I am, this supposedly free-spirited, creative person—and out of my mouth comes this booming voice saying "Don't hit your brother!" "No playing on the stairs!" "Don't jump on the sofa!" "Use your inside voice!" Seriously??

This wasn't what I envisioned for myself as an earth mama. It's not calm, cool or laid back. But the reality is that I'm a mom and my children need to be well-behaved so they feel in control of themselves and understand what is acceptable at home and in the outside world. I love my children so much that I must discipline them so they can function well now and into adulthood.

So to help my little family, I'm going to get energized about this in a way that excites me: and create a House Rules sign. I've found some inspiration, now I just need to come up with the rules! (That'll be Part 2)

:: meal time rules via The Contemporary Home
:: rules for brooke berryman via More Than Words
:: various signs by order of the mgmt via John W. Golden

In Love With... Old LEGO Ads

I've been working on a magazine project for the last several weekends, so the boys have had a lot of much-cherished Daddy Time. They absolutely adore playing with their father; he's a kid at heart and would play all day if he could. Their number one activity is LEGO. From battleships and rockets to architectural masterpieces, they ROCK LEGO.

I came across these ads from the late 70s and early 80s. A brilliantly simple ad campaign. The Art Director in me is obsessed—the copywriting, the sweet photographs, the font choices. There's nothing slick or fake about these kids.

What is even cooler is that it's 2013 and we have all this technology, but my kids prefer to create and build over anything else. There is nothing cooler as a mom than seeing your 4 year-old beaming with pride, and telling you, "Mom, it's a Mega Zord Battle Ship. I made it myself!"

Just One More

After my second son was born, I swore up and down that I was "done" having kids. It was a really tough transition, from one to two. When the blur and exhaustion of the first six months wore off, and I settled into my role as mom-of-two, I declared that "two is perfect".  I would smile and say "our family is complete." And although I felt fulfilled beyond description, with my "two arms for my two sweet boys," I knew deep down that I wanted another child. Just one more.

I hoped the feeling would pass. After all, two children was our plan. Andrew and I are educated, supposedly responsible adults, and decided that two children is a smart and manageable size for a family... from house size to vacations to college tuition. Two is perfect. And our children are perfect. Why would I want to change that?

So I let a year go by without saying anything. I began to notice how pregnant women and newborn babies started to make me feel envious and sad. I visualized myself giving birth one more time, even planning the birth (perhaps a home birth this time, I thought). I convinced myself that all women think these things, even those that don't have children. It's maternal instinct. Right?

The following year I got our family a dog, hoping to fill the void. It didn't work.

Wesley asked me one night at dinner if he could have a baby sister. I cried.

Around this time a good friend told me when you are done having children, you know it. You start to admire pregnant women—you don't want to be pregnant yourself. And you feel sorry for mothers of newborns, because of all the hard work and sleepless nights. She said: if you want another child, if you can't stop thinking about it, then you need to do it. Now.

And so, last Winter I cried to my husband. I'm not done. In my bones. In my heart. In my blood. There is one more child to fill the empty seat at our table... to fill our hearts. Another cheek to kiss goodnight. Another voice to be heard. Another best friend for our boys.

Andrew questioned our plan. He wondered how we would pay for college. I explained that this was SO much more than that. Reminded him that he was the third child in his family. A few months later, he told me he truly wanted just one more too. And with happiness and determination, we've been trying ever since...


:: Aren't these paintings on motherhood by Katie M. Berggren just beautiful?  

Not-So-Hot Mommy Monday

Hope everyone enjoyed their weekend. We were hit with an unexpected 2-feet of snow on Friday; luckily it's melting rapidly under this glorious sunshine and warm weather.

I, however, am not feeling so glorious. Currently battling a funny tummy, so no blogging for me today. Perhaps I will post later this week, but certainly for next Monday.

Family Size will be the topic, so until then... check out this photo of my maternal grandmother and grandfather with 7 of their children (they eventually had 10). 

In Love With... Broyhill Brasilia

There is something so charming, so incredibly handsome about Broyhill Brasilia... the smooth arches and clean lines... the real wood... the history. I fell in love with this sturdy line of furniture a few years ago, while discovering that certain pieces of midcentury furniture don't really stand the test of time. Oh sure, they look pretty for the most part, but when your child wants to jump on a coffee table circa 1962, you start to second-guess the inherent strength of those slim, tapered wooden legs (live and learn). 

This Spring we are adding built-in bench seating to our dining room bay windows. With this new seating arrangement we needed to find a "perfect" table to fit the space. I do not use perfect lightly. The list of criteria was not short:  

• It must be a circle, but also have leaves to extend to an oval. 
• It must have a pedestal base, since straight legs would restrict seating. 
• It must fit the space, which will have the bench on one side and chairs on the other. 
• It must be real wood (no more laminate or MDF for this IKEA family). 
• Lastly, please be something vintage, preferably midcentury.

Of course I knew the table I wanted. The Broyhill Brasilia round dining table. But it was nowhere. And when I thought I found it, it was out of our price range, sold or a fake. But after a two month search, one showed up on Craigslist last week that was available. And wouldn't you know that the cool cat sellers delivered it all the way from Providence, RI that very day. The world is a good place.

Here is our new table with one leaf inserted. Handsome, right?