Cupcakes and Marriage (Huh?!)

Marriage. I wouldn't want to do this kids thing without the support, love and dedication of husband. He's pretty much the best Daddy ever. He loves our kids like they are his world every single day. He works hard to support our family. And, generally speaking, he's a really good partner. I understand that many people do have to go this alone. So, I remain thankful for having that partnership. But. Having kids sure can do a number on a marriage. Huh?

Let's face it - men, as a whole, like the attention of their beautiful wives. And, I don't blame them. They feel important, needed and even studly. After kids, that attention shifts so greatly that they are left wondering where that person who thought they were the greatest went. And, this is only the beginning, really.

Stressors like money, time, work and the likes of these seem to place burden on what was once a bit more blissful.  Maybe a little naive too.  Challenges should be an expected part of life as much as I hate to admit it.  And, the reality is that we all go through tough times, even if we don't always like to admit it out loud. And my family hasn't been immune to the realities of life.  There, I said it.

Thing is - I know we'll get through it. I want to spend my life with no other husband.

A wise friend, who will go unnamed due to the credit going to her head, suggested that, perhaps a really little thing will make husband feel more loved and, in turn, create a sense of peace that we may be in need of. What is this little thing, you ask?  A cupcake of course.

I was going to get myself a cupcake. Don't judge - I had experienced one of "those" days. Nothing a perfectly sweet and delicious cupcake wouldn't solve. So, this friend suggested that I get one for husband. I knew there could be no harm in this simple gesture, so I listened to her. And, am I glad I did.

The cupcake sat in the fridge for the first 24 hours.  I casually mentioned to him that this glorious cupcake was for him to enjoy. He seemed rather un-phased.  I was, at first, slightly discouraged, but whatever, it was just a cupcake. I let it go.

The next day, I received a text to the likes of  "Wow. Thank you for getting me this cupcake. It was delicious and I really appreciate you thinking of me." From that point forward, something was re-ignited. Perhaps I really had not been paying husband the attention he craved, desired and deserved. And, this simple little gesture opened his eyes to how important he is in my world despite what challenge or frustrations we may be facing. We all have bad days, right? What a simple little thing that really can brighten an otherwise not-so-great day.

Life isn't perfect. Marriage is far from perfect. But, I gotta love when something so simple makes such a big difference.

Winning the Sick Kid Lotto

I am going to start this post with gratitude. September was Childhood Cancer Awareness Month and my child is, relatively speaking, healthy. I count my blessings every day.

And, since we're talking about it, we haven't had a particularly easy go of it. "It" being basic health.  I have, almost two years in, lost complete count of how often Baba has been sick. But, it is a lot. It seems she catches absolutely everything there is to catch. Even if there's nothing to catch and everyone around her is healthy as that proverbial horse, she catches it.

Thankfully, she's had only a small handful of seriously tough illnesses and most others have been colds or coughs. But, man those coughs. They are heartbreaking - especially when they last all. Damn. Night.

Backing up to about 34 years ago. This was me. To a T. I coughed my way through childhood and through young adult hood. And, now, I am the healthiest person to roam the earth (again, relatively speaking). Thankfully, I don't remember my own slew of illnesses as having a negative impact on my childhood. I was still happy. This gives me hope for Baba.

See, we're not going to keep her in a bubble. As much as I hate the constant onslaught of illness, I believe that I will do more harm if I keep her away from this opportunity to build her immune system. Unfortunately, she just builds hers a little more painfully than a lot of other kids. So, she's in full time preschool. She travels with us. She camps. She goes to Children's Museums. And, I am pretty sure she has gnawed on a grocery cart handle at some point in her life. Probably recently.

This world is just too amazing not to explore!

At this point, we've tried a lot. We embarked on a homeopathic journey about a year ago. I guess, at the end of the day, I don't know what I don't know. It could be working. But, she still seems to get sick. A lot. So, I'm on a quest to find a balance between constant medical intervention and going natural; so as to keep her comfortable but also to ward off these nasty bugs as much as possible - before they beat her down.

I was reminded last night that, although it's uncomfortable for any Momma to watch her child suffer, it is indeed building up her immune system and one day soon, she will be healthier because of it. Granted, it might not be as soon as I would like, but that day is coming. It has to.

I'm thinking I am not alone in this battle. But, it sure feels like it.

In addition to our previous attempts to avoid the steroids and cough medicine (with codeine - that can't be good!), we found a Naturopathic Doctor. We love her and she is quickly becoming my best friend. Baba doesn't know what to think about her yet, but I am pretty sure she is falling in love every day she goes without illness.

We've recently eliminated cow's milk dairy - a very common agitator of the respiratory system. One month in and it (knock on wood) appears to be making a positive difference.

I have hope. Hope that I can find a delicate balance between medicating and proactively warding off this constant slew of illnesses - naturally.  Hope that I can make small changes that have big impacts. And, hope that Baba continues to thrive, despite the snotty noses and hacking coughs.

I Can't Cook

Hi.  My name is Sarah and I am a terrible cook.

But, man do I try. And, the worst part: I actually really like to cook. I just am not good. At all. There's an upside to this: I have been blessed with a husband who chokes down my gluey pasta and rubbery meat. And, he does so with grace and kindness. Almost like he appreciates my effort. The kiddo, well, that's a different story. She's brutally honest.

Listen, like the rest of us, I don't have time to spend hours in the kitchen each day, pouring over recipes and perfectly creating meals. So, I read through the steps and follow them. Really, I do. So, why the eff doesn't anything turn out well?!

Within the past few weeks, I have ruined pot roast, pasta primavera (twice - don't ask) and tacos. Now. Who ruins tacos? Me, that's who. I believe that the guys at the row of restaurants down the street is learning my husband's shoe size and childhood dog's name.

This past weekend, husband, Baba and I went camping with my Mom and sister. I thoughtfully chose some delicious recipes from my now-least-favorite-website-ever, Pinterest. We made each one of them and they were so good. Notice I didn't say "I made each one of them." And, when husband, in an attempt to make me feel better over my recent epic fails said, "Honey, the meals you made this past weekend were so delicious," I rolled my eyes and, through frustrated tears said (insert tone of whiny four-year-old here), "But, I didn't actually cook one of them myseeeeellllffff!"

So, what the deuce? In cooking, there's not necessarily an "A" for effort. If the food's not edible, it doesn't really matter how hard you try.


Despite the obvious frustration, I am not giving up.  I love food and I love giving my family good, healthy foods. I love eating good, healthy foods. And, I actually love cooking good, healthy foods. I would just love if more of the attempts actually ended in good.

So, here I am - asking for advice. What's a girl who wants to actually spend time in the kitchen to do? How to learn the right ways to do things when just reading recipes doesn't seem to work? Please and thank you.

Yours truly - Helpless in the Kitchen

10 Reasons Not To Find Out the Sex of Your Baby

Did you find out the sex of your baby(s) before it arrived?

I read this post on Scary Mommy a few days ago and it got me to thinking: Is it really so strange to NOT find out the gender of your baby before it is born?

Up until the past few decades, nobody found out what they were having until it popped out.  My mom's last baby was born in 1985, and while she did not find out the gender beforehand, she did have her first and only ultrasound with this pregnancy. And that was considered strange.

Fast forward to 2011 and my first pregnancy.  We did not find out the gender.  We wanted what my husband declared would be one of the only great surprises of our lives.  Second baby arrived in 2013 and again we chose not to find out the gender.  Was this crazy?

But let me tell you, there were plenty of family and friends who just did not understand this decision and the "when are you going to find out what you are having?" questions never really stopped. 

So, to each their own, but to anyone undecided, here you go!

10 reasons NOT to find out the sex of your baby:

1.  Surprises can be fun! It's like being a kid on Christmas morning.

2. You don't know what you don't know.  Once that 20 week ultrasound is over you may not get another chance to find out anyway.

3.  Want to drive certain annoying family members a bit crazy?  This may be a solution.

4.  Not finding out gives impatient people (like me) a lesson in patience.  Which comes in handy once that baby does arrive.

5.  You get to try all those old wives tales for predicting baby's gender.

6.  Buying gender neutral gear and clothes saves money! (For the next baby)

7.  Those gender reveal parties and announcements are a lot of work.

8.  Once you find out the gender, prepare to scrap your registry list and instead receive oodles of clothes.

9.  Since you don't know what you're having, you can't possibly have baby names selected which means you won't have to endure everyone's opinions on those names.   

10.  No matter what comes out, you will fall in love at first sight!  
  

Did you find out the sex of your baby?  I think if I had third baby (I'm not!), I would still go for the surprise.  Give me your reasons though - maybe I can be persuaded to switch sides! 

Mind The (Age) Gap

By Guest Blogger, Cara Dyksen

My two boys are 8 ½ years apart.  Dubs is 9 and G-monkey is a couple weeks shy of his 1^st birthday (*sniff*).  I could write a book about what I’ve learned over the past nine years parenting one, and now two kids - especially boys, but for now a blog post will have to do. 

It's just the way life worked out. This age gap of ours. Ultimately, I know everything happens just the way it should, so I have no regrets.

With that, I have to admit that I have struggled immensely, and still do occasionally, with the balancing act two kids require.  And, two kids with such drastically different needs. A lot happens in over eight years when it comes to child development, right? They are on completely different playing fields. G-monkey prefers "playing" with my kitchen whisk while Dubs would prefer the basketball court or football field.

Often times, like any other mom can probably relate, I am knee deep with the baby and have to beg ask Dubs to carry some weight for me. (And, sometimes that's literal - my (almost) one-year-old is not dainty  at 27 pounds).

I was always so adamant that I would NEVER have/allow Dubs become a helper or a babysitter – he is the brother.  But, now I realize how wrong I was. It's almost impossible not to rely on these perfectly good hands every now and again.

Here's where I make up for turning my oldest into my biggest help: He's the best kid on earth. I can’t really gush about him enough – he is truly one of the sweetest and smartest people I know.  He helps with G-monkey because he wants to, not because he has to.  

He loves us both so much and still shows it!  (Eventually, "they" tell me he might not want to be seen in public with me, but until then, I'll plant kisses on him all day long!)

I also struggled with a deep sense of guilt that my love & attention would now have to be split between two (three, if we're counting the hubs) people.  It seems only natural to me that, after 8 years of being an only child, there might be some animosity when another one joins the (tiny) crew.  But not my Dubs - he was, and remains, ecstatically thrilled!  

I have often found myself downplaying my excitement about the baby in front of Dubs so he wouldn’t get jealous, but that would backfire on me.  This loving brother wouldn’t stop enthusiastically talking about his new little bro and making sure that I was equally as excited.

Of course now as we approach the one year mark as a family of four, I can’t imagine life any other way.  I’m not only thankful for my extra set of (willing and) helping hands, but also the crazy chaos, belly laughs, vicious messes and love that runs even deeper than I ever imagined.

Forever Monkeying Around