November 30, 2009


I had forgotten how much babies drool. Ben started last week and between that and the spit up, I am never wearing a clean shirt and I always have little bits of nastiness in my hair. Nice, huh?

With Jack, I remember being ready for the drooly, spit-up stage to be over. To be done with bibs and bringing 10 burp cloths every time we left the house. It's not any more fun this time around, but I know that it won't last too long, in the grand scheme of things. Before long, we'll be potty training him. And that's a whole lot messier.

Potty training Jack has had its ups and downs. On Saturday, we went all day without one accident and he told us EVERY TIME he had to go. I felt like it was all coming together. Then on Sunday, we had three accidents before 11 AM.

We were going to try and skip pull-ups and go with underpants only, but after cleaning the couch cushion four times in one week, we decided training pants might be the way to go. And honestly, he tells us that he has to go just as much when he's wearing those as when he's wearing underpants. He will not (WILL NOT) go #2 on the potty though. But we're not pushing it. Uh, not pressuring him, I mean.

It goes without saying that Jack does better when he has our undivided attention. That's obvious. But undivided attention is running low these days. Not a day goes by that I don't mourn the loss of diapers. They were so much easier.

I think potty training might be the most labor intense part of parenting up to this point.

November 28, 2009

2 months . . . 8 hours

This beautiful, two-month-old boy slept a whopping 8 hour stretch last night! And I actually got to sleep for about 5 of it . . . it was glorious.

Bennett had his 2-month check-up this week and he's just under 15 lbs. and just shy of 26 inches . . . which means that he grew almost two inches in the last month. He weighs 3 ounces less than Jack did at his 2 month check up. He's wearing mostly 6 month clothes now, though there are some 3 - 6 month things that still fit him.

When I look at this picture, it's shocking to think that a year ago, he didn't even exist. I'm so thankful that he does. I can't imagine life without him!

November 24, 2009

Dear Ben, months 1 & 2

Dear Bennett,

One of my deepest regrets is not taking many pictures during the first few hours that you and I had together.

When your brother was born, the nurse reminded us to use the camera. But this time she didn't, and we were so overwhelmed by everything that was going on that it just didn't occur to us.

Of course, I don't need pictures for me to remember. Our first moments together are etched into my memory. I will never forget seeing you and hearing you for the first time. I'll always remember the nurse putting your slimy, gross, beautiful little body in my arms. If I close my eyes, I can go right back to that instant . . . my heart overflowed with emotion. It still does.

I wish I had the pictures to show you. I wanted you to be able to look at a picture and try to imagine how much love I felt for you during that first time we had together. It was in those few moments that I realized that I could, in fact, love another child as much as I love your brother. In those first hours, I started praying in ways that only your mother can . . . that God would protect you, that He would give me what I need to be your mom, and that you would grow to know him and to love Him more and more every single day.

I don't know. . . pictures probably wouldn't have been able to do the moment justice, so maybe we're better off without them. But I want you to know that you were deeply loved from the moment you entered this world . . . and even before.

You are now two months old. You might be thinking that I missed your first month's letter, but you're wrong. With Jack, I started letters at his two month birthday, too. So, in what will likely be the first of many attempts to keep things "fair and equal" between the two of you, I put off your first letter until now. And this way, when Jack's someday complaining that you got the brand new car that he never had, I can say, "Yeah, but I wrote you the SAME NUMBER OF LETTERS!"

You're in a unique position in our family . . . you're the only one who ISN'T an oldest child. You're the youngest and none of us can really relate. We'll try not to hold that against you. I have a feeling you'll teach us quite a bit. I can already see the differences in your tolerance level for chaos and the ease with which we can put you down to take care of Jack.

You have your fussy moments but you're really proving to be a happy, content little boy, as long as your needs have been met. Your smile still melts my heart and holding you helps me to relax.
I think the best part about being a parent the second time around is that I'm not as scared of messing you up. Don't get me wrong . . . I'm still worried that you have every condition and illness that I read about online. But I'm less tense and more laid back . . . well, for me at least. I think you'll benefit from the little bit of experience I have. I guess that's one nice thing about being the youngest.

You are so special, so unique. You remind us a lot of your brother, and I think you favor the Wietholter side of our family more than he does, but whenever we start talking about who you resemble, your Grandpa Wietholter always says, "He just looks like Ben." And he's right.

You'll figure out soon enough that your parents aren't perfect and that we make mistakes. You'll find that we don't always parent the way we should and that, on some days, it is by the grace of God alone that we live to see bedtime. But I hope you'll also discover that we love you as much as we possibly can and more importantly, that there is a God who planned for you and loves you more than we ever could. You were so meant to be.


November 23, 2009

My week(s) on twitter

An abbreviated look at a few of the things you might have missed if you don't follow me on twitter . . .


I'm working on the camp video while bouncing up and down with a 13 pound kid strapped to me. I like to think of it as my morning workout.

Forgiveness is giving up all hope of a better past." - author unknown (to me, at least)


As I was hugging Jack goodbye this morning, he said, "You need to brush your hair NOW." Nice.

I didn't know why Jack wanted to play with my memory cards so badly. Then I realized he was talking about the card game, not media storage.


The stupid world series is the reason we haven't seen glee in two weeks. Ridiculous.


I don't steal from Target because it's wrong to steal, not because I'm afraid of getting caught. The Internet should work the same way.

Screaming infant and wailing toddler . . . I miss the days of peaceful rides in the car.


I went 24+ hours with nary a twitter update. See . . . I can quit anytime I want to.


Any day in which I make until 4:03 PM without getting spit up down the front of my shirt is considered successful.


Murphy's new family just sent us pictures and I loved it! It's like the canine equivalent of an open adoption . . .

I couldn't find a clean blanket big enough, so Ben is swaddled in a lovely gingham table cloth. Whatever works . . .

Jack's in time out yelling for his imaginary friend, "Lillian," to come & help him. Wondering if I should be worried about my 2-year-old...


Watching video footage from the summer is making me so excited for 2010 . . . despite the insane amount of footage of kids playing tag.


Jack asked what he's going to dress up as for Christmas . . .

Unbeknownst to us, my OB's (who is female) middle name is Bennett.


Watching the Today Show . . . and again wondering where the line between "news" and "gossip falls.

True words: @kylewluke just said, "With all of these white noise machines, it sounds like we live at the bottom of Niagara Falls."

Nothing says, "Good morning, Mom!" like projectile spit-up.

The "waterfall" white noise is great for keeping Ben asleep in my office, but I've peed a record number of times . . .


I'll likely hit 3000 sales this week . . . what should I do to celebrate?


I thought postpartum hormones would have subsided by now . . .

Me: Jack, you're smart. Jack: Yep. You're welcome.


Jack's watching me type and saying, "Don't press that one! It's my favorite letter!"

I'll probably hit 3000 sales tomorrow . . . which is fitting because also happens to be the 2-year anniversary of opening my shop.


Ben and I are off to buy party supplies and breakfast for "no more diaper day!"

My new computer has a 27" monitor . . . which is bigger than our television. I'm just sitting here admiring it.


Jack's yelling "HOLD THAT LINE!" and "DEFENSE! DEFENSE!" Kyle says football coach, but he definitely sounds more like a cheerleader.


Enjoying the morning with my friends Illustrator and Photoshop . . .

Headed with Jack to the Jackson Christmas parade.


I get an e-mail every time the debit card is used . . . I know you went to Tim Horton's without me, @kylewluke

Dear 127 new e-mails . . . not all of you will get answered tonight. Only the ones I like best. Love, Sara


I have 791 etsy items to leave feedback for . . . I'm a procrastinator.

We're in the MIDDLE of the IKEA maze and Jack says, "I have to go potty." Lovely.

Calling me tired would be like calling the Titanic a "big boat."

November 21, 2009

The one that almost got away . . .

This week was a little nuts and I'm SO glad the Corrells called to confirm their session because ashamedly, I almost forgot. It was really cold outside; therefore, it was a short session. But none of us were really that bothered by the temperature because we were running around after the kids so much!

For me, this was honestly a great break in my week of chaos!

November 19, 2009

Easily entertained

Bennett rolled over for the first time yesterday. I told someone last week that he was a long way from doing it because I give him so little tummy time. But then on Monday, he was pushing up with one leg and looked like he might do it. I swear, the kid can't even push himself up with his arms for more than 2 seconds, but he can do this?

And then laying on our bed on Wednesday morning, he squirmed enough that he did it. He won't be doing that regularly anytime soon (but watch him prove me wrong) but it was a fun moment. He couldn't have cared less . . . he was just glad to not be on his tummy anymore.

He's been sleeping longer stretches . . . something that I hope to be able to take advantage of once the-most-wonderful-time-of-the-year dies down a little. He's been napping like a champ. And yes, I realize that merely typing those words means he will not nap or sleep well for at least three days.

He's very content and smiley and has really grown to like watching Jack. He'll turn his head all around searching for him when he can hear his voice (which is quite often, given Jack's usual volume) and smiles virtually every time Jack talks to him. Of course, Jack loves this.

Ben's main source of entertainment these days is reaching out and batting objects with his fist. He looks like a little boxer. He misses a lot, but he sure does have a good time trying. Because of this past time's ability to keep him entertained for longer stretches, I am showering more regularly. You can thank him later. You can see more pictures of him playing here.

He also "talks" to his dangling toys with such enthusiasm that it sounds like he's ordering them around. He has this deep raspy voice that makes him sound like he smokes a pack or two a day.

And if this doesn't break your heart, then it must be made of stone . . .

In other news, Jack went the ENTIRE day on Tuesday with no time outs. It was amazing. Monday and Tuesday were really good days all around.

Jack is doing ok with potty training. He's more prone to have accidents when we're distracted with other things . . . which seems to be all the time. But we've seen improvement just in the last day! We're trying not to push him because if he's not ready, I'm happy to diaper him up for another month or two. But every time I think it might not be time, he does something to show us that it definitely is.

I could tell by looking at her . . .

I was going to do a "bullet" post. You know. The kind that breaks my life down into small, manageable, bite-sized pieces. But I'm not going to. Why? Because my life is not manageable or bite-sized right now.

It's chaotic. The-most-wonderful-time-of-the-year is in full swing (hello to everyone who's here by way of etsy), I have a newborn, I'm potty training a toddler and I have some big projects I'm working on at my real job. Did you know that I have a real, full-time job that has nothing to do with my children or photography or etsy? Lots of people forget.

And my emotions? Well, they can only be compared to a wrecking ball, swinging wildly from high to low and then back again, taking out everything in its path. Kyle would probably tell you plenty about this, but he doesn't have a blog, so I guess you'll never know.

My kids need baths (no seriously, Ben perpetually smells like spit up . . . as do I). I have mounds (piles is not an accurate description) of clean laundry sitting on the floor of my fairly small bedroom waiting to be folded. We actually started using disposable diapers this week, only because we couldn't locate any of the clean ones . . . they were buried so deep that we couldn't find them. And my bathrooms . . . and the kitchen floor . . . I stress out just thinking about how much attention these areas need. And honestly, all I can do is laugh. Not the funny kind of laugh. But the kind of laugh that makes the people around you laugh nervously along with you.

Adding to everything, is my deep desire to lose the excess baby weight I'm carrying. Everything fits awkwardly. It took about 10 months to get rid of it with Jack, but for some reason in my mind, I thought it would come off more quickly this time. As you may have guessed, I was wrong. We had a dinner at camp on Saturday for donors and friends and I was standing and talking to some people at a table. One lady looked at the woman sitting next to her and said, "She just had a baby." And the woman replied, "I know . . . I could tell by looking at her that she hadn't had one too long ago." Awesome.

Then, I was shopping in Target with Jack (the shopping trip that made me want to boycott Target forever . . . don't get me started) and I picked up a pair of jeans in my current size. And Jack says, "Whoa! Those are big pants." Double awesome.

I could go into more detail here and outline every bit of craziness I'm living through, but I won't. Because no one wants to buy a holiday card that says "Merry and Bright" from a gumpy girl with raging post-partum hormones. And because when I go to church on Sunday, I'd inevitably get the "sympathetic head tilt" which I'd then have respond to with the "I'm ok head bob" and I don't want that either.

And this is the point in the post when things turn around, I look on the bright side and explain the happy ending . . . I share the things that I'm be thankful for and explain how good life is, after all. And it is good. I had 10 minutes this afternoon when Kyle, Jack, Ben and I were all standing (well, Ben was being held) in the kitchen and laughing and playing that were so wonderful, that I'd go through all of this even if it were for just those 10 minutes.

But instead, I'm just going to leave it here. I am thankful. I am blessed. I have happier things to post later tonight. But for now, I'm just tired.

November 17, 2009


I will likely hit 3000 sales sometime between now and the morning. Which is fitting, because tomorrow is the 2-year anniversary of my shop opening.

As I was searching for the post that I linked to above, I read through all of my posts from November of 2007 and was reduced to tears as I thought back to life back then.

From outrageous gas prices to my sweet little 5-month-old, reading made me nostalgic. I am shocked that I thought I took good pictures back then. They make me cringe a little now. I'm not a professional or anything now, but I've definitely come a long way. And gas prices . . . I had forgotten how high they were at that point.

Not only is tomorrow my shop's anniversary, it's also official "No More Diapers" day. Well, for Jack anyway. Bennett's got a while.

We're quitting, cold turkey. And I think everyone knows that "we" is Kyle and I more than it is Jack. I might be wrong, but I don't think he'll have as much trouble adjusting as we will. It's gotten to the point that he'll walk up and tell us he has to pee and then tells us he's going to go in his diaper. And I just smile and nod because what can I say? I don't want to encourage that, but it's sometimes hard to put down everything (especially a newborn baby) to take him to the bathroom. But starting tomorrow, we have to make it work. I feel like Kyle and I will need to be "potty trained" more than Jack will.

Our plan? We don't have one. I know . . . rookie mistake. But it's our mistake to make. We're both taking the day off, and we'll . . . . well, we're just going to make it happen. I've got lots of prizes and fun things to make the day holiday-like. We started building it up last week . . . letting Jack know that starting Wednesday, there were no more diapers. We're going to make it a fun day that hopefully will make the potty a positive thing. Then on Friday, we're taking him out to dinner and to the Christmas parade as a "graduation celebration" of sorts. My fingers are crossed that it goes as well as I have it planned out in my mind.

The one kink in our plan is that the underwear we have for him are 2T/3T and he no longer fits into those. So it looks like one of us will be making an early morning trip into town . . .

Wish us luck.

November 16, 2009

I knew this conversation would happen someday . . .

. . . but I thought I had a few years left.

Jack: How did baby brother get out of your tummy?

Me: Remember, I went to the hospital so that he could come out?

Jack: But HOW did he get out at the hop-sital?

Me: The doctor took him out.

Jack: But how did the doctor get him out of there?

Me: Uh, she, well, she . . .

Jack: Used somethin'?

Me: Yep, she used something.

Jack: What did she use?

Me: Um, I don't remember. Ask your dad.


Jack: But how did baby brother get IN your tummy?

Me: Um, God put him there?

Jack: But how did God get him in there?

Me: Do you want to watch a show?

November 14, 2009

True words

I've been trying to teach Jack to "use his words" when he gets angry. When he's in time out, I'll sit next to him and ask him how he's feeling and try and get him to explain to me why he feels that way, in an effort to show him there are other ways to express himself than SCREAMING HIS HEAD OFF.

However, I think this morning's conversation is a little too telltale of the bad habits I'm passing to him . . .

When he was in time out and I asked, "How are you feeling right now?"

"Um, kinda bad because dad wouldn't let me go out to the garage, because there's stuff out there, because I wanted to."

Then I asked, "What do we do when we feel bad?"

"We go out to eat."

Hmmm . . .

November 13, 2009


Did you miss me? I'm here, just busy. After all, it is the-most-wonderful-time-of-the-year.

I have a confession to make. An embarrassing one. But Internet, I need to get this off my chest.

I genuinely thought that I would beat the tantrums and screaming that is closely associated with this phenomenon known as the "terrible twos." I honestly thought we wouldn't see them . . . we'd skip right over them. Until about 22 months of age, Jack was the picture of a happy, obedient child who sat nicely in time outs when he did something wrong and apologized when he disobeyed. We followed the love and logic system of discipline and it worked like a charm. But then we had that momentous weekend in Chicago that changed life forever.

For real . . . up until then, I would see a toddler embarrassing his parents with a public tantrum and feel sorry for them. I would wonder what they did, or didn't do, to cause that kind of behavior. I patted myself on the back and thanked God that I didn't have to deal with that. I knew that I wasn't perfect and that my parenting wouldn't always be perfect, but I thought that reading enough books and watching enough parenting segments on the Today Show could keep us from melt downs.

And it's true that I do think we're better off with the research and reading we've done on discipline and raising children. But I don't know what I was thinking. Did I think I was some sort of parenting superhero? I never actually said, "My child will never act like that." And I don't think I thought those exact words. But in my mind, I was convinced that we would manage to avoid it. I don't know if I really felt this way, or if I'm just remembering it this way. In any case, I had no idea what I was in for.

Because after that fateful weekend in Chicago, it got worse. And then we threw a brand new baby into the mix and watch out! Life exploded in our faces leaving small pieces of parenting shrapnel all over our kitchen floor . . . which is okay, because it hasn't been mopped in months anyway.

Jack is in the middle of the terrible twos. He defines the phrase "terrible twos." At least I hope he does. I'm praying that it doesn't get worse. Because the bad days are B. A. D.

The good news is that I still love him. And at this point, I consider loving him and taking care of him even in the midst of this stage, a huge parenting success. Kyle and I both beat ourselves up for losing patience with him so often, but we're doing our best. This can't last forever, right?

When I hear new parents, or DINKS watch people dealing with a misbehaving toddler and allude to the fact that their children will never behave like that, I smile and respond, "You're right. They won't." Because those few years of ignorance really are bliss. And we might as well let them enjoy that thought while it lasts.

November 8, 2009

(Another late) Sneak peek

If you think that these sisters love each other, then you're right. But don't be fooled . . . the hugging is less about the love and more about the fact that it was 40 degrees outside when we took these pictures. They were troopers. Pay no attention to the icicles hanging from their appendages.

The irony is that if we had waited ONE WEEK, we could have taken these in balmy 60 degree weather. Who would have thought?

November 7, 2009

(A really late) Sneak peek . . .

A lot can change in a year. Seriously, I didn't realize just how much these girls had grown until I looked at last year's pictures. Amazing.

Most of our session was spent chasing after them, or trying to balance my camera and make them all smile . . . and look at me . . . all at the same time. The family picture below is the ONLY ONE where everyone was looking and no one had any fingers up their noses. We had a good time!

November 6, 2009

6 weeks old

6 weeks. He's 6 weeks old. As usual, in some ways I can't believe he's already 6 weeks old and in others, it feels like he's been here for 6 months.

I think he'll be a lot like his brother in that he doesn't sleep much during the day. He does, however, do fairly well at night. He's a generally happy baby as long as his needs are getting met, but he does have a fussy time at night . . . always around the time we sit down to eat dinner. It doesn't matter if we eat at 5 or 7 . . . he wakes up and is fussy. I think it's his way of helping me manage my weight.

I love this kid . . .

Meet Monkey George

If you don't use the babysitters we use, you should be jealous.

We're blessed to have some great girls who live nearby (and not so nearby) to help us take care of Jack. The one who's here most regularly (Kelsey) showed up with an empty peanut can yesterday and told Jack that it was a cage to catch his pet rock. Which of course, caused Jack to all but shove Kyle out the front door so that they could get on with business.

When I got home, he showed me his home for his new little friend (after screaming that he wanted me to go back to work and Kelsey to stay). He had affectionately named him "Monkey George."

They decorated the can, added a "rock habitat" and even made a couple of playdough eyes.

What a fun idea!

November 4, 2009

You might get a cold just watching it . . .

Today has been an awful day. And it's only noon. It's one of those days that I might write about later, but writing about it now will cause me to have a nervous breakdown.

SO instead, I'm just going to post this video. It isn't really anything spectacular. Just 3 minutes of Jack and I talking to Bennett. He's such a sweet little boy. A little boy that won't sleep during the day unless he's strapped to my body. But sweet, nonetheless.

You might get a cold just watching this video because my boys were so congested in it. And I was holding Ben and the camera, so it's a little shaky.

So, you watch this. I'm gonna go eat a bag of Doritos.

Bennett at 5 weeks from Sara on Vimeo.

November 3, 2009

Dear Jack, Month 29

Dear Jack,

Part of being a good parent is teaching your child to look both ways before he crosses the street. It's the very first thing they teach you in Parenting School. And while we've failed you in some areas, this is one area in which we have excelled: teaching you to be careful in high traffic areas.

You always grab our hand and let us know if a car does so much as look like it's going to start rolling in our direction . . . even if it's two or three parking lots away. You hold our hand, look both ways and are usually (but not always) very cautious.

But it's always been a little bit awkward to hold your hand. You just grab two or three of our fingers and we kind of clasp your wrist in order to keep you safe . . . until just recently.

After your brother's doctor's appointment last week, we convinced you that Bennigan's hamburgers were, in fact, as good as McDonald's hamburgers and we all enjoyed a sit down meal together. You disagreed with our opinion on their hamburgers because your basis for judging burger quality lies solely in whether or not a prize comes with it. Nonetheless, we made it through the meal without any major meltdowns.

On our way out to the car, Dad was carrying Ben so you reached up and grabbed my hand as we stepped off the curb. As we were walking toward the car, I realized that we weren't struggling to keep a good grip on each other. Our hands fit together nicely. I squeezed your hand and you squeezed me back. It was such a small, quick moment. One that some people wouldn't have thought twice about. But that moment is lodged in my memory and will probably stay there forever. It's one of those moments that shouldn't really mean much but is of great significance to me. It was confirmation of what I already knew . . . you're not a baby. You're a little boy.

You're also a stinky boy. You sweat. And get dirty. I laid down with you for a few minutes before your nap the other day and I couldn't get over how much you smelled like a locker room after a morning of playing and wrestling with your dad. You and I went on a date tonight to Culver's and I just laughed as I watched you wipe the ketchup from your chin onto your sleeve as if that is why God made sleeves.

You're an active boy, too. While you can still be very gentle you are, in general, pretty rough. You like to tackle and throw and run and yell and roar and jump. Your volume control is lacking and we've begun to explain the difference between outdoor and indoor voices . . . and you have very little regard for our explanation. Have you always been this loud and we're just now noticing it?

You're an appropriately temperamental boy, as well. You scream when you don't get your way. And I mean a high-pitched, piercing scream that sends shivers down my spine. You've actually started to use that scream when you get hurt or are seeking attention, too. It's just lovely.

You yell when you're angry about something. You clench your fists and stomp when we send you to your room to have your temper tantrums. It's hard on me because I don't always know how to handle it . . . especially because I'm simultaneously trying to take your brother. But I know that it's hard on you, too, because you're also trying to figure out how to handle it.

This afternoon was probably one of the hardest afternoons we've had since Ben was born. Your screaming and tantrums were at an all time high and you kept insisting that I pick you up. You also complained over and over that you wanted baby brother to go back into my tummy. It's been almost 6 weeks, and up until now you haven't really shown any signs of jealousy or feelings of neglect. It broke my heart to hear those things . . . not because I really think you want baby brother to not be here, but because we might not be spending enough time one-on-one with you. So, we had our date tonight, but I know that it doesn't solve everything.

You and your Dad and your brother are the most important things in the world to me. I love my work, but it will never be as important to me as taking care of my boys. I hope that if you someday are able to remember this time in your life, that you'll be able to read this and realize that I was trying as hard as I could to take care of everyone. I can't explain it to you so that you'll understand now, but I hope that when you remember me yelling at you or putting you in time out or sending you to your room to have your tantrum, that you'll understand that just because I wasn't perfect at handling every discipline issue doesn't mean that I wasn't trying. It doesn't mean that I don't love you.

Our relationship has changed over the last few weeks, as you've become more of "my little boy" and less of "my baby." And while I miss having you as my baby, I would never go back. Because despite the tantrums and frustration that this new stage brings, I'm so proud of who you're becoming. I'm so proud to be your mom.

I love you.


November 1, 2009

You are what you eat . . .

I'll be the first to admit that this post could be as much about our menu over the last few months as it is about Jack and Bennett's Halloween costumes, seeing that they were dressed as a hamburger and a hot dog.

Trick or treating almost didn't happen. About two hours before Trunk or Treat, Jack announced that he didn't want to go.

"Don't you want to see Grandma and Grandpa?'


"Don't you want to go and get candy?"


"Do you want to see what Emma's costume is?"


It was so odd because he had been excited for over a week about wearing his costume and filling his ketchup packet bag with candy. But now he had no desire to do anything. He wasn't cranky about it . . . he just didn't really feel like going. Eventually, we coaxed him into going, and even into reluctantly posing for a few pictures.

I couldn't believe how many people referred to Jack as a "sandwich." Um, it's obvious to me that he was a hamburger . . . especially with the ketchup packet. What didn't they get? A lot of people asked if the costume was homemade. If by "homemade" they meant "purchased on ebay" then yes, it was homemade.

You might recognize Ben's costume from two years ago when Jack wore it. Although Jack was more than 20 pounds and ben is less than 13, so it didn't fit him as snugly.

I said that if Kyle and I were cheesy, we'd put aprons on and carry tongs with us. I underestimated Kyle's cheesiness because he wanted to do it. Fortunately, the distraction of getting a screaming infant and a less-than-excited toddler loaded up to go to Trunk or treat kept him from remembering.

My week on twitter . . .

An abbreviated look at a few of the things you might have missed if you don't follow me on twitter . . .

  • Grocery shopping with two [for the first time] this afternoon . . . a little scared.
  • Our carpet was cleaned and deodorized today . . . I heart Stanley Steemer.
  • Someone said I was "moving slow" because they e-mailed me 2 1/2 hours ago and I'm just now getting back with them. I set the bar too high.
  • Ben is 1 month old . . . 12 pounds, 11 ounces. He beat Jack by over a pound!
  • Happiness is . . .

  • Jack: Will you cuddle with me? Me: Sure . . . for one minute. Jack: Two minutes. Me: One minute. Jack: One minute and a little more?

  • Jack: Thank you God for mom. Me: Aww, thanks, Jack. Jack: Congratulations, Mom.
  • Thank you to the mcdonalds employee who was gracious enough to not make fun of me when I tried to put my arm out of my closed window . . .
  • The fact that it's 3:56 rather than 4:56 doesn't make being awake right now any more fun.
  • Jack just put his football in timeout and then said "oh did you hit me? well you can stay there longer now"