We moved the boys into the same room at the end of March … the weekend I was gone to Blissdom, the boys stayed with their Nana, and the husband spent the weekend putting bunkbeds and dressers together. That Sunday, the boys came home to bunkbeds and the Froggy officially moved into the Mouse’s room. I’d love to be showing you super cute and Pin-worthy images of a completely coordinated little boy room … buuuuut, that’s not the case. To be honest, the crib and changing table are still sitting in the Froggy’s nursery.

What can I say, I’ve been busy. [sigh]

That being said, it’s starting to get there. We’re making little adjustments here and there – buying new sheets, clearing out all the ‘baby’ toys [sniff], and adding new touches here and there.

This is what USED to hang over the Mouse’s book shelf.

He advised me a few weeks ago that he didn’t want babies in his room. [sniff] So baby Mouse is getting moved to MY room. Also? Photo credit to the amazing Perez Photography for this shot.

This is what’s hanging up now.

On the left is a cross stitch a friend of the family did for us of all the Mouse’s info/stats when he was born. On the right, a print with the Froggy’s stats. In the middle? A print from Minted.com to link them both together. I’m kind of in love.

Most people know Minted for their amazing invitations, but I fell in love with their prints. There are a TON to choose from, in a plethora of sizes to fit whatever size wall you’re needing to fill. I actually had this one sized down a little bit as I wanted it to be smaller than the two other hangings.

What’s cool about Minted is that their product all comes from ‘real’ designers – and as such, their prints are limited. To me, it was fun to find something that worked so well with our ‘mishmash’ decorating style [or lack thereof], but that was still a good, quality piece of artwork.

To see for yourself what great quality their products are, Minted.com is offering up a $75 credit to one lucky reader. You can use it on one of their prints, cards, or even their party decor. To enter, check out the Rafflecopter entry rules below.

And just so we’re all on the same page, about the state of my children’s room … I’ll leave you with this image. This is what was going on under the bookshelf when I was taking pretty photos of the prints last night.

Also, because I know you’ll ask – the bookshelf was not purchased. It was made for me as a shower gift by my very talented uncle. It has been AMAZING to have for both of the boys over the past five years.

Also, also – disclosure – Disclosure – I received a credit to Minted.com to review one of their pieces of art. I received no other compensation for this post. All opinions posted are my own. They’re mine, you can’t have them.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

It’s starting to feel real, you guys. This whole … ‘family’ thing. Not necessarily easy … but real. This whole ‘knowing your family is complete’ thing. It’s starting to sink in.

And while I’ve put my foot down for a while and said a million times, ‘we’re DONE!’ … sometimes my heart ached a little bit when I said it. Sometimes. Just a little. But then I came home to a mountain of laundry that has been neglected for going on 2 weeks and I thought to myself, ‘no way, this is it. No more.’ There is only so many dirty socks that a mom can look at, and wash, and sort before she just starts shoving them into drawers, hoping they’re clean, and hoping she can find a matching pair tomorrow at 705am when the kids need to be ready for school.

And it’s not just my sanity, it’s the boys as well. We’ve got a good thing going on with these two. While I blog about the mommy stress and the crazy shenanigans that these kids pull on me sometimes, when it comes down to it? These are two darn good boys. They may bicker, and tattle, and steal toys from each other – but two minutes later they’re in the backyard collecting bugs and helping each other build forts. They’re already best friends … I’m a lucky mommy.

They’re both getting so big – and that’s okay. I love watching them grow up into ‘real’ people. I love celebrating their triumphs, and wiping their tears with their failures. I see the Mouse turning into an actual ‘kid’, and I see the Froggy trying desperately to keep up with him in every. single. thing. that his big brother does.

And by the way, I’m not the only one helping to celebrate milestones. Each of them is pretty damn good at cheering the other one on.

Until a favorite toy goes missing. And then it’s every man for himself.

Then the Froggy gave us a stomach bug.

I spent most of my Saturday feeling nauseous … and a lot of it in the bathroom. {Sidenote: clean your bathrooms weekly, folks. You never know when you’re going to get up close and personal with your toilet.} Thankfully, the boys were super good for me {the Husband was working}, and it was a quick bug. By Sunday morning I was feeling pretty much normal again. But guess who had it then? The Husband. So guess who was up with the kids, making her own breakfast, sans any flowers? ::sigh::

It’s fine, though. The boys and I spent some good quality time together on Sunday. And even though I did have to do chores on Mother’s Day {since I got nothing done on Saturday}, my house looks a lot better than it did on Friday. I kept telling myself that Mother’s Day means a lot of different things to a lot of people, and if a stomach bug was the only thing I had to deal with – I should count myself lucky.

I hope all the moms, the would-be moms, the foster-moms, the step-moms, and yes, the fur-baby moms all had a wonderful Mother’s Day. And even if you didn’t, from the deepest part of my heart I hope you at least weren’t throwing up all day.

Yes, you.

The reader who shows up so loyally, but never comments. You’re a blog lurker. Don’t be offended – I’m totally a blog lurker too. I stalk the hell outta some blogs and never comment or make my presence known. Totally guilty – I will own it.

And it’s not because I don’t feel like I have anything important to add to the post – because I read some amazing blogs, but some amazing writers – mostly, I guess, I’m just extremely lazy.

I know, I suck.

If you ARE a blogger, you know why I suck. You probably know how AMAZING it is to have people post comments on your blog. That they feel the need to interact with you, to let you know they were here, they heard you, and they agree {or don’t, whichever}. So knowing this, it only makes sense that I {the blogger} should de-lurk and comment on others blogs as well …

But I don’t.

I’m going to start trying though. PROMISE. Even if it’s just to give my peers a virtual ::highfive:: or ‘YES. YES. YES’, I’m going to make the effort to comment and let them know I heard them, that I was there in that post.

I’m not asking for everyone to comment on all my posts – I get it. Sometimes you don’t agree with a post, sometimes you think, ‘meh’. Sometimes you’re nodding your head along while reading and think, ‘wow, YES – I totally agree’ … but then you’re late for a meeting or late feeding your kids lunch and you’re off doing way more important things. Trust me, I get it.

What I AM going to ask you to do is de-lurk. If you’ve a reader of my blog, and you’ve never commented – NOW IS YOUR MOMENT. There’s no pressure – no one will judge who you are or what you say … think of this as a virtual line of blog readers, all lined up to welcome you and give you high fives.

Introduce yourself – leave a link to your blog – tell a bad joke – say ‘hi’ – ask a question … whatever! Just let me know you’re out there! Okay I KNOW you’re out there – I can see the pageviews …

Consider this your invitation to de-lurk.

I’m not sure if it was because it was so late and we were all too tired to really take it all in {hello, why on EARTH would you have Kindergarten pre-registration at SEVEN PM?}, or if it was just because he’s already in the same school for Pre-K, but somehow, this whole Kindergarten thing isn’t phasing me. Although, talk to me in August, and I might have a completely different outlook on it.

He’s already a pro at this. The program he’s in has him already walking through the halls of our local elementary school. Going through the lunch line and eating in the cafeteria with the ‘big kids’. Getting dropped off every morning in the bus circle. When they pulled all the kids out of the meeting and let them explore the Kindergarten classrooms, he knew all four of the teachers by name and told me he wanted to be in Miss. X’s class … because she was closest to his Pre-K classroom and he wanted to be able to see his current teacher next year.

Then he told me the other reason he wants to be in her class is because she’s the prettiest. Yeah.

I can’t even begin to explain to you guys how great this Pre-K program has been for him. The Mouse is {no joke} counting to 100 in 2s and 5s. He’s reading easy readers by himself. He can basic addition and subtraction with little to no help. And none of that is because of anything we’re doing at home with him … 110% credit goes to his fabulous teachers and the program in general. We were very lucky to get him through the lottery system so he could have a spot in the program.

Explaining to him that Kindergarten doesn’t actually start until August was fun though. Dude was ready to start his new big-kid routine this morning. Slow down, sweet Mouse.

Fair enough.

This puppy is mine, and I love her. I play Candy Crush before turning out the light before bed, I watch Amazon flicks on here on my lunch break, I take her to all of my blogging conferences/trips in lieu of a ‘real’ laptop. We had a great relationship, me and my iPad. Unfortunately, so does she and the Mouse. Oh yes. My iPad? She’s cheating on me.

She’s a little bit of a slut like that.

Because of this extra little relationship she has on the side, we’ve had to invest in some protection from GetUncommon. It’s fine, we’ve have the conversation – we got some great protection over the counter and no everyone is safe. She’s safe, I’m safe … the Mouse is safe from my wrath should anything happen to my sweet iPad. We’re all a happy family.

I’ve used GetUncommon several times now – both previously for branded iPhone cases for blogging conferences {see below}. I can’t tell you a) how many compliments I’ve gotten on them, b) how many times I have freaking dropped my iPhone, cringed as I watched it fly through the air, and then c) how many times I’ve breathed a sigh of relief as I picked the phone up, and kissed its untarnished face.

I get a little emotional over the state of my tech, in case you hadn’t noticed …

Here’s the thing though – this review is not only about the amazing quality of a pretty darn cool tech case, it’s also about the company as a whole. I can not say enough about the wonderful customer service and support they have at GetUncommon. From their Twitter response, to their email support – everyone there is truly dedicated to making each customer feel as though their order/concern/question is the most important one the company has ever had. Before I even agreed to do a review for them, I was a ‘regular’ customer, and I had several amazing experiences when interacting with their staff.

I’ll stop gushing now.

Pictures! The coolest thing about GetUncommon is you can make your tech cases your own. Upload your own photo, your own design {which is obviously what I did above – super easy at picmonkey.com}, your own ARTWORK {hint hint, nudge nudge} …

Oh yes, it all comes back, full circle.

Ready to win? Check out the entry information below. One lucky reader will win a custom iPad or iPhone case of their very own! Contest runs through 05/14/2013 at midnight – goodluck!

Disclosure – I received a totally awesome custom GetUncommon iPad case for free to test and review. I received no other compensation for this post. All opinions posted are my own. They’re mine, you can’t have them.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

On the one hand … they grow up about 400x faster than than the first one. The Froggy is two years old and has no patience for the Wonder Pets or Mega Blocks – he wants to watch Star Wars and play honest-to-god tee ball. He doesn’t want to read picture books – he’ll grab one of his brother’s Spider Man easy readers and bring those for me to read to him before bedtime. He doesn’t want me to help him climb ladders at the playground, he wants to do that sort of thing alone – and would rather stay on his big brother’s heels the whole time. He’s even started trying to swing in a regular swing instead of the baby one we have.

On the other hand … he is my baby. He wants snuggles at bedtime and would rather that I just sleep with him in his bottom bunk than leave him alone at all. He wants to be held, and rocked, and refuses to sit on anyone else’s lap {most of the time}. He cries, and pouts, and sticks his lower lip out and then snuggles into my chest and asks for his seahorse … and all I see are sweet stubby fingers, and scraped knees, and long eyelashes and remember that he is the last. There won’t be any more babies, and this is the youngest he’ll ever be again.

And then he drops seahorse to the ground and runs off to play Power Ranger action figures with his brother.

These kids and their growing – I’m completely conflicted about it.

I’ve talked about my online-mommy group ‘Memo’ a few times before … we’re a private online forum of 275 women who all found each other online around the same time {when I was pregnant with the Mouse, so, over 5 years ago}. Since then some have left us, new members have arrived, but for the most part, we’ve been a steady group of online friends. Sometimes we get upset with each other, sometimes there is drama – but for the most part, this is the most amazing, most supportive, most thoughtful, kindest bunch of bishes that there ever was.

I count myself lucky to be a part of them, and their awesomeness.

This past weekend, just under 50 of us met in Central Texas and rented a lake house. Our trip was dubbed Austintoxication. This was a weekend without children, without responsibility, without remorse. And we totally rocked it.

My apologies to those of you who follow on Instagram and have already laughed your butt off at most of these – but here they are again.

Our amazing rental home for the weekend … well, half of it.

I am holding a triple batch of the famous lemonade recipe … 30,000 Pinners can’t be wrong, right? Especially when you add vodka.

Oh yeah, and we had our own prom. Yes, grown women {several of whom are expecting} got gussied up in bad dresses, and then descended upon the amazing Reverend Jim’s Dam Pub. The locals absolutely loved us … and I’m not being sarcastic when I say that. We received a standing ovation when we all paraded in, and I don’t think anyone paid for drinks at all that night. There was a band, and two-stepping, and many a biker that tried to get frisky – it was all in good fun though. The people were so amazingly nice … we can’t wait to go back.

Mostly though – it was just great to finally meet the women who I have admired through a computer screen for the past several years. We’ve all been through a lot – new additions, losses, Cancer, weddings, divorces, achievements, lost jobs, natural disasters – and getting to hug the faces that I’ve cried and laughed with virtually over the years was absolutely amazing. I had a lady at the bar Saturday night tell me she was too old for a ‘moms’ group, but would love to find a ‘grandma’ group, and how should she go about doing that? How did I find mine?

I got seriously, lucky. That’s how.

Okay, scratch that, it makes me want to blog for like 14 seconds, and then I decide not to … because I’d rather just hug my boys and be thankful that we’re not in an insane situation like Boston, or West. For that reason, there were not a whole bunch of posts last week. Instead? You get the yearly, ‘I live in Texas and so I must stick my children in our state flowers {ahem, weeds} and make them smile’ obligatory photos/post.

He looks eight here, I can’t believe how fast time is flying by …

After the first couple of meltdowns I gave up on trying to get ‘nice’ photos in the flowers. The Mouse kept pouting and asking, ‘when can we get up and play?’

So I let them.

I let them get up, and run around in what was left of this year’s Bluebonnets. He spent a good portion of his time trying to find other kinds of flowers as well … yellow, white, purple … and look, there’s a ladybug. There is one little lone ‘hill’ in the middle of the field with an amazing overgrown oak on top. The Mouse had a grand time exploring it {ie: running up and down} while the Froggy tagged along behind him … the little shadow that would not be left behind by his big brother.

This one looks like something that should be accompanied by an A. A. Milne quote …

The horrible things that happen in the world will happen, and we will go on. They will go on – and for right now, for such a short sweet time, they will go one blissfully unaware of the awful tragedies that happen every single day in this world. Let them be little. Let them be boys. Let them be brothers, and best friends.

I totally wasn’t. This morning, as we were getting ready to head out the door for school/work, the Mouse asked:

And then, my heart broke into a million pieces and scattered at my feet on the kitchen floor. 

I know I talk a big game about not ever wanting to be a SAHM. I read other blogs written by amazing women who stay home with their kids, even WORK at home with their kids, and then those who HOMESCHOOL their kids (and some even do all three) and while I’m reading about their crazy days and lesson plans and play dates I raise my wine glass and give them an e-clink and mentally think to myself – ‘these women are saints … because oh hell no there is no way I could do that on a daily basis’.

When my husband lost his job last Spring and stayed home with the kiddos for three months I was in constant awe of how he handled it. He was an amazing SAHD. I would come home after a horrible day at work {which was every day because I effing LOATHED my job then} and the house would be picked up, laundry running, dinner on the stove, and happy kiddos running to give me hugs and I would look around and think – who the hell IS this person? And how did he manage to get all this crap done with these little animals running around the house all day? And oh, by the way, he spent at least several hours filling out online resumes, having phone interviews, and generally perusing the net for another job.

Overachievers piss me off. 

And don’t misunderstand – if for some horrible reason I lost my job tomorrow and I needed to stay home with my children, I would manage. I might not be the best, but we would manage and I would {try to} love every second of it – but the fact remains that I don’t WANT to be a SAHM. I love my job. I love the company I work for. And while I do love working from home on occasion, I actually love my little cubical and the adult interaction that comes with an actual office setting.  And yes, even when I disliked my job, I still liked working … if that makes sense.

I don’t let ‘liking working’ to give me mommy guilt … most of the time. I work because I like to, but also because we’re a lot better off financially when there are two paychecks coming in – and we like to have that extra cushion. And then … then I have mornings like today, when my kiddo looks up and me and wonders why other mommies and daddies were able to go on the farm field trip, but I didn’t. He wonders why other mommies show up for all the classroom parties and bake cupcakes , but I didn’t. He wonders why other mommies help out at the afternoon carnival, or volunteer to help with cafeteria duty … but I didn’t.

And then I have to bend down and try to hold back the tears as I kiss his nose and tell him that mommy wishes she could be there for all of his special moments at school – but she has to be at work a lot, in order for us to be able to do fun things – like take trips to the beach, and eat out at restaurants, and other not-so-fun things – like pay for our house, and save money for daddy’s new car. I can remember being a little kid and wishing my mom could come on field trips as well … but she worked. She worked so that I could go to college and not have to worry about taking out loans, and so we could go on really amazing vacations, and so I didn’t ever have to worry about not being able to go on the fun class trip at the end of the year with all of my friends.

It’s hard to explain those types of things to a 4 year old though.

In the end, there were big hugs, and a promise that both daddy and I would absolutely be at his ‘graduation’ here in a few weeks – which seemed to make him feel better.

And then I cried on the way to work.