I hit a huge birthday milestone this week and while I'm excited to have hit a new decade, big thirty years old, and set some goals for myself and keep trekking on, I'm feeling a little weird about it. After all, I never really care much for numbers or big celebrations or the meaning of certain dates and birthdays. It's not that I don't care, I just don't see a singular day as defining or changing anything. 

But that's beside the point. 

I turned thirty and just felt weird, and different, and changed. I feel like a huge chunk of my life has passed and while I've accomplished a ton of things I really really wanted to, I don't feel done. And while I know I still have a long ways to go, I feel like time is running out for certain boxes I'd  like to tick. 

Sometimes when it's too cold to go outside, you have to bring the elements in! My two year old is obsessed with trucks and has been for a long time. We used a square sensory bin to make a snow site and added in various sized construction vehicles. 

To engage my younger toddler, 1 year old, I added in stacking cups in various sizes to fill and dump to create snow castles and boxes. 

One thing that's great to focus on for this activity is filling and dumping. And if you have a toddler, you know that they love dumping. The cups provide a productive way to fill that's fun for all ages.

Quarantine was rough for us and a major factor was the fact that there was a newborn at home. With any newborn, there's a feeling of being stuck and not being able to go wherever you want. You're very much strapped down to a feeding and sleeping schedule, rinse and repeat. Despite the collic and endless wakings at night, I really found my footing in this mom of two being stuck at home life by getting outside. 

March in New England is still cold. It snows sometimes, is generally wet, and really not a great experience if you didn't have to go out. But once I made it a part of my daily routine to get outside in same way, shape, or form, my mood change and my mindset lifted.

The quick facts:
December 2019, 7:12 pm
8lb 3 oz
20.25 inches long
8 hrs active labor
Vaginal delivery at the hospital
Epidural

It's official! We have a potty trained two year old boy and I don't know how to be more EXCITED for him! After a rough week one, we figured out a solution and he's been rocking it. Not a single accident (except a little dribble when I was cooking in the kitchen) and not a single tear all week long. The happy guy is back and so PROUD of himself.

​Here's how the past two weeks went down...

​Can I just preface this with the fact that potty training is freaking scary. I had dabbled in the act of potty training my son about a handful of times before finally committing (and even then it was sort of not fully committing until I knew that he was into it and could handle it). Had day one been a nightmare, I might have backed off and pushed it off another month or so. I don’t really know. 

Potty training, especially a boy, and you’ll understand why in a few paragraphs (think sprinkler) is a lot of work. Not only do you have to be on your child 24/7 for a few solid days at home, but you have to be on your game. And I have to admit, with the smaller girl always attached to my hip, it’s hard to fully devote my attention to Lincoln. 

Maybe it’s a mom of babies thing or a young mom thing, but this end-of-year feeling has me yearning for the tough days again and wanting to transport back to February 2020 when life was so much easier and seemingly less complicated. And yet as I sit here, reflecting on who I was back in February and what we were doing, was it much different then?
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On maternity leave with baby number two, a colic-ally little thing with red hair and a loud scream, I sat at home all day long, trying to “nap when the baby naps” as if that’s a real thing, and juggling a 15 month old clinger who wants to climb and run and gets injured every two seconds. I was perpetually exhausted from said newborn and really run down physically. Not from a tough labor or a slower bounce back—no, I felt fine in that way. The constant touching of baby life and toddler life and husband life was wearing on me. I remember being so touched out one day that laying in bed alone when my husband worked late in numbing silence was self-care.