This means it’s the beginning of the end.

13 days of work left.

I haven’t had a lot of time to dwell on it though.

Because this little guy has kept me pretty darned entertained….

He’s two and half.

And I love it.

Yes, it’s difficult.  You can find a slew of blogs by and about being a working mom that will lay out all of the trials and tribulations we face each day.

From sending our children to someone else all day long to the exhaustion of parenting after a long day of being “on” for adults.

For the most part, I can usually nod my head and think, “preach it!  don’t I know it!”

But in truth, I like being a working mom.

At first I felt incredibly guilty about liking it.

Continue Reading…

I was asked of any medical conditions besides my drug allergies and my postpartum depression.

I said anxiety.

And had to catch the sob in my throat.

*************

I asked Cort to bring up the itty bitty clothes because I couldn’t stand it anymore.

He did.

I opened three totes of memories.

And my hands and feet erupted in sweat.

*************

Saturday morning Cort picks up the twin-size mattress we bought for Eddie.

Eddie is so excited to sleep on it, I go out and buy sheets so he can use it for nap.

He sleeps like a champ.

And asks to sleep there at night.

And nap on Sunday.

And for the rest of his life.

I cry in an empty nursery.

************

As I search for ways to be productive around the house, flashbacks of the weeks postpartum fill my vision.

I am unable to do anything.

The difficulty of moving with an abdominal wound.

The help I needed but never asked for.

My head spins.

************

Because Eddie wants to sleep permanently in his new room, he and I moved all his clothes to his new dresser.

It will be easier for Cort in the mornings.

I also put his diapers and some wipes in his room.

And then walked around aimlessly all day in a haze.

************

As I pee, I see my idea of the near future.

Trying to take care of postpartum body wounds and “stuff”.

A crying baby.

A needy toddler who thinks he “can do his own self.”

A husband gone to class.

************

I took Eddie’s name off the nursery wall.

He looked at them on the floor and asked me to put them in his “own room”.

I said Ok.

He smiled.

I turned away so he wouldn’t see my tears.

*************

I knew it would be awesome if we transitioned before Charlie was here.

But part of me wasn’t rushing anything.

And then he went and transitioned himself.

Without considering if I was ready.

*************

He can suddenly climb into his booster at the table himself.

He can go get his own tissues and diapers and anything else.

He carries things for me.

He not-so-routinely pees and poos on the potty.

He is so proud.

I…am proud…and heartbroken.

*************

I wanted a happy toddler and a squishy newborn.

But I am terrified.

This is just how it should happen.

And not at all how I thought it would happen.

Who would’ve thought an innocent weekend filler post of photos could cause such a ruckus.

People were up in arms about pacifiers here last week.

I must thank you all for all the support of Eddie’s beloved “pipey”.

This week Sluiter Nation got it’s first glance into the nesting bug that has bit me.

It was met with mixed reviews.

February 12: Eddie and I make Valentine's for his daycare friends

February 13: Sluiters share Valentine's goodies because we don't want to wait until Tuesday night!

February 14: Happy Valentine's Day

February 15: Wednesday night treat..."green choc-o-yat i-keem" YUM!

February 16: My need to get out the itty bitty clothes takes over all logic that says there is no place to put them yet.

February 17: We buy the big boy bed. It is quite well-received.

Feburary 18: After a day where I was pretty sure my head would explode, Cort brings home Chinese food. I love that man.

There were many battles this week about how Baby Charlie’s things do NOT fit Eddie.

About how Eddie is TOO BIG to sit in the bouncy seat.

And about how no, that onsie will NOT fit on you, Eddie.

There were tears and dysfunctional listening ears.

But at the end of the week, we had a Big Boy who peed and pooed on the toilet…

and then asked to sleep in his big boy bed.

I am so proud.

Even though my heart hurts with these growing pains of his.

How was YOUR week?

*************

Other places I wrote things this week:

My first post over at Borderless News and Views: Could You Live Without TV?

And a new review on Katie’s Bookcase: The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks (a must-read, by the way)

But there were a few things around the web that totally stuck out to me.

I’m a fairly regular reader of The Curvy Girl Guide (fricking LOVE that site, by the way) and this week the post Why I’m Not a “Dirty Mom” in the “Be Heard” section blew up.  I read it because I wanted to know what a “Dirty Mom” was.  And then I got sucked in by all the comments.  I couldn’t believe how riled it up it made women that someone didn’t believe in going out in public looking like a slob.  Like there were women who threatened to never come back to the site again.  Over wearing yesterday’s sweatpants?  Amazing.  It’s a great read though, and there are some thought-provoking comments.  Throw your opinion into the ring.

My blogging bestie, Miranda of Not Super…Just Mom is all knocked up like I am and went through a C-section for her firstborn just like me, but unlike me, she is choosing a VBAC for her New Girl’s grand entrance.  This week she wrote and AMAZING post about choice and support about women’s choices with birthing options in her post No Man is and Island. People?  Her strong voice and unwavering stance about her beliefs is why she is my bestie, yo.

In case you missed it, this week I was involved in something pretty awesome.  Natalie of Mommy of a Monster and Twins and Gigi of Kludgy Mom organized a round table of sorts that included eight bloggers (I was one of them!) talking about the mysterious business of blogging for dinero.  We give you some honest answers to real questions.  Here was the line up:

Alex at Late Enough: Writers Teach, Why Can’t Bloggers?

Kristin at What She Said: I Want To Get Paid To Blog–Now What?

Gigi at Kludgy Mom: So You Want to be a Freelancer?  What You Need to Know.

Natalie at Mommy of a Monster and Twins: So You Wanna Make Money Blogging?  How to Get Sponsored Posts.

Tina at Life Without Pink: Tips for Building Successful Relationships with Brands and Scoring Paying Opportunities.

Devan at Accustomed Chaos: Monetizing Your Blog:  The Hows & Whys of Making Money.

Debi at The Truth About Motherhood: What to Charge for a Sponsored Post and Why you need a Media Kit

There you have it!

Oh wait!

I almost forgot!

My first post over at Borderless News and Views is up today!  My post is in the Lifestyle section and it’s about people who live without a TV.  Could you do it?  I am pretty sure, even after all the positive stuff I learned, I still couldn’t do it.  I would be honored if you all would come check me out over there today.

Oh my little buddy.  We are entering a difficult time.

You are at that rough age of two-but-not-quite-three.   You want so badly to do things by yourself, on your own, without help.  You want things done your way, on your schedule.

You struggle to communicate your wants, and when we have to say “no,” you struggle with how to show your anger and frustration at not getting your way.

It hurts my heart to watch you go through this phase.

Sometimes the minute you come through the door after getting home from daycare our push and pull starts. I will ask you if you had fun and you will shout, “NO!”

I will tell you I missed you and you will yell, “NO!”

I’ll try to hug you and you will pull away and tell me, “NO TALK A ME, MOM.”

I know you’ve had a big day.  I know you were probably cheery and fine for 95% of that big day.  And I know you are tired.

So you will get your juice from the fridge.  And if it is not full enough, you will want to pour your own.  And I will say no.  And you will slap the couch or coffee table and take off for the nursery all the while sobbing, “I JUS WANNA JUICEY. NO JUICEY FOR EDDIE. MOMMY NO JUICEY. I WANNA JUICEY.  WAAAAAAAAAAA.”

You are so much like I was at that age.

It makes Grandma and Grandpa giggle.

It makes me smile too, because I can actually remember being an over dramatic, whiny child.

But at the same time, something inside me breaks when you just can’t find a good thing in this world to smile about.  I search you for my sweet little boy.  My Eddie Bear.  And he is not there.

He is replaced by a sad, frustrated, anger ball of a toddler.

I try to stay calm.  I let you stomp to the nursery, but I know you are also frustrated because all your things are moving downstairs.

I hate this that phase–and I know it’s a phase–is aligning with you becoming a Big Brother.

Things are changing and you both love and hate it.

You are so eager to help with Charlie and to know when he will be here and to tell people about him.

But you hate that you can’t sit in his infant tub or play with his bottles or lay on his activity mat.

You want to do things yourself and be a Big Boy.

But you don’t want to give up your spot as my Baby either.

This week, while daddy was in class, you and I rocked in the nursery before bed.  You asked me to sing the ABC’s, so I did. Then you asked me about some of baby Charlie’s things that are piling up in the nursery.

I answered your questions.  Then there was silence.

In that silence, you nuzzled your face closer to me and put Lamby up to your nose.

I leaned in and said, “Hey Eddie.  Guess what?”

And you looked up and went, “huh?”

“You are so very special to me, do you know that?”

And a smile spread behind your pipey.

“You will always be so special and important to me.  Do you know why?”

“Why, Mommy?  Why?”

“Because of you, I am a mommy!  You turned me into a mommy!  Did you know that?”

“Yeah.”

Of course you have no idea.  But you seemed happy about it.

The next day you were a bit of a grizzly bear again.

You have even yelled at Renae at daycare…something you have never done.

I know it’s hard growing up.  I do.  And I wish I could say that once you get past this phase, it gets easier.

But it doesn’t.

Life and phases happen all the way from two years old until…well…I don’t think it ever ends, bud.

But know this:  Your Daddy and I know you are a sweet, kind boy.  You make us proud in so many ways.  You are so smart and funny and amazing.

And while we know you are going through a phase, we want you to know that we will do our best to understand and guide you through it so you can be better for it.

That doesn’t mean it’s OK to throw things or hit when you are frustrated.  It means we will show you healthy ways to express your frustration.

Like knowing you need to go sit in the rocking chair for awhile, and being able to tell us, “I AM ANGRY RIGHT NOW, MOMMY!”

You are making good choices, my little friend.  Most of the time.

And we will get through this.

I promise.

I will love you forever, you know.  No matter what or who comes along.

Love, Mommy

Monetize: to legalize as money; to give character of money to; to convert to currency.

The first time I ever heard this super blogging buzz word was when I set up Sluiter Nation for the very first time on Blogger.  There was a tab called “monetize” and it was all about adding adsense to your blog.  My first reaction was “yeah right.  Who clicks on those?  They are just ugly and annoying,” and so I passed.

That was almost five years ago.

Since then, I have moved my blog to wordpress.org, paid for my own hosting, url, blog design, etc., and I have realized that unless I want to shell out money from my pocket, I should at least try to have this blog produce some money.

Seeing friends do reviews…and get PAID…seemed like an AWESOME idea.

Until I tried it.

And realized I am not a product reviewer.  And I don’t want to get paid in product.  And I don’t want my blog to turn into a place where I have four posts a week about diapers, orange juice, storage containers, and apps for my phone.

That is not what this blog is about.

Would it be nice to occasionally review something from Whirlpool and get a free dishwasher out of it?  Oh my Lawd, yes!  But not many people start out with the big stuff.  And I just didn’t want to pay my dues with the little stuff.

Or send out email pitches “selling” myself.

It all felt very phony.  For me.  It just wasn’t ME.

Don’t get me wrong…I read quite a few blogs that do reviews and I have taken their advice on numerous occasions because I trust mom bloggers to tell me the truth (for the most part.  there are some who will give a great review to a dog turd for a buck. I don’t so much follow those blogs).

All I wanted was to make enough to cover the overhead of having this blog without turning this blog into anything other than what it was meant to be:  an online account of our lives.  My words for future generations of Sluiters.

And I really didn’t want the collection to include a bunch of sponsored posts about shopping at CVS or using lip gloss.

If you look through my archives, you’ll see I’ve done a few sponsored posts.  I tried to only choose things that seemed natural, but even those just didn’t ring true for me.  I always wondered at those bloggers who could make it fit so well…because I just couldn’t.

Currently, the only money I bring in on this blog are from the small biz shops in the right side bar (I TOTALLY support small businesses!  Some of them pay a monthly fee of $10 to be there, others have cut deals with me for goods/services that I have needed for some ad space here) and the BlogHer ad network ads you see running in the sidebar (the $$ I get from those is based on pageviews and whatnot.  It’s a VERY dinky amount).

Once in a while I will run a review or giveaway over on my sponsor page, but generally that is just for fun and I am not making any money from them.

And I have no desire to do any other monetizing.

I don’t want my blog to be my business.

I want Sluiter Nation to be a journal.  A chronicle of what life is like right now.

I feel like paid opportunities and working with brands isn’t what this blog is about.  I have had a few offers, but for the most part, I turn them down.

This opinion was always in the back of my head, but was solidified when I went to BlogHer this past August. I went in with the idea that I could find a way to make money with my blog that felt right.

Instead, I left feeling like maybe I didn’t need to go to another large blogging conference like that again.  EVERYTHING seemed like schmoozing…from the parties to the expo center to the constant barrage of brands.  I didn’t really feel special; I felt like “just another mom blogger.”

And I got on the plane home feeling sort of icky about it.

It took me months to distance myself from the experience enough so that I could look at it objectively.  It wasn’t the conference I hated.  In fact, I loved meeting people (although I think I came off like a deer in the headlights…which maybe translated into something negative to some people), and I loved the down time to just hang out and giggle with people who felt like old friends already.

It was all the push to make money that I hated.

And I realized that the biggest thing I learned was that I don’t want my blog to be my business.

Would I like to get paid to write?  Most definitely.

But not here.

Sluiter Nation is my hobby.  It’s my way to give something to my boys and their children and so on.

So many times I stare at the names in the family tree genealogies of my family and wonder about the stories.  The people.  The words they would have left behind.

Sluiter Nation is a collection of my words.

Sluiter Nation is not my brand.  It is not my business.

*************

Even though making money isn’t my thing doesn’t mean it’s not your thing.  Read more about ways to make money via blogging by visiting these lovely ladies…

Alex at Late Enough: Writers Teach, Why Can’t Bloggers?

Kristin at What She Said: I Want To Get Paid To Blog–Now What?

Gigi at Kludgy Mom: So You Want to be a Freelancer?  What You Need to Know.

Natalie at Mommy of a Monster and Twins: So You Wanna Make Money Blogging?  How to Get Sponsored Posts.

Tina at Life Without Pink: Tips for Building Successful Relationships with Brands and Scoring Paying Opportunities.

Devan at Accustomed Chaos: Monetizing Your Blog:  The Hows & Whys of Making Money.

Debi at The Truth About Motherhood: What to Charge for a Sponsored Post and Why you need a Media Kit

This week I am bringing you another fabulous writer.  So much of this blog world for me is reading blogs that sound like someone is actually talking to me.  Blogs that sound like robots are just blah.

Missy is one of those fabulous writers.  Her blog, Literal Mom, is a mix of all things mom.  It reminds me of Real Simple, but less like reading articles and more like having coffee with a friend.

I can’t imagine her not fitting in anywhere she goes, but she is here to tell you that sometimes?  That is the case.

************

“You’ll never fit in here.  Your kids might, but you never will.”

When we moved to our home, the home we’ve lived in, gotten married during, created and raised children in and become “grown-ups” in, we were elated to find a nice section of our city, close to downtown (where we both worked), but still “suburb-y.”

We knew nothing about the A+ school system, the multiple generations who live here, coming back after college to live their lives the way they were raised, or the areas you choose to live in (as in “central,” ”north,” or “south,” in order of most people’s preference).

We just loved the house we’d found at the wee little ages of 23 and 25 and we loved that we didn’t have to take a highway to get to work anymore.

Time passed.  A marriage happened.  Kids arrived.  I decided to stay at home with the kids.  We met people.  Made friends.  All was good.

And then, one night at a party or some social function, the quote up there was delivered to us, smugly, with the satisfaction of knowing THIS was the truth.  They belonged.  We didn’t.

Up until that moment, we’d never thought about “who belongs” and “who didn’t” in our suburb.  We just liked where we lived.  We liked the people we’d met and befriended.  We liked the couple who said this to us!

But of course the seed of doubt was planted.  And we started noticing things.

The family at the ice cream shop who asked us where we lived and when we told them “north,” they said, “well you’ll want to change that and get into “central” as soon as you can.”

Or a fellow attorney who told me that if we really wanted to get “into the fish bowl, instead of watching from outside,” we should have kids sooner rather than later.

My husband, being a man, has never been truly bothered by this.  I, being a woman, sometimes have.  Sometimes it hurts to feel “less than” merely by the fact that you didn’t grow up in a place.  Sometimes it’s hard to learn I may never fit in here simply by being from “out of town.”

But it’s really ok.  You know why?  Because I left my home town for the exact reason most people come BACK to this community we live in.

I wanted to become who I needed to be in life, not just go back to a town that had already decided who I was as a teenager.  So I moved away and haven’t regretted it for one minute.

And here where we are?  I think we finally “belong,” but in a different way than the couple at the top said.

Last Spring for my 40th birthday, I picked 5 couples I really liked.  Couples who didn’t bring drama wherever they went.  Couples who both of us like the husband and the wife (and that’s sometimes not easy!).  Couples who also didn’t grow up here.  A few even live in a different suburb.

And we had a blast.  We all clicked.  Bonded.  Gelled.  And since my birthday, we’ve gone out together several times and it’s the same easy, relaxed, supportive good time every time.  Everyone is genuine, enthusiastic. Supportive, fun-loving.  It works.

And after 15 years here, I feel that we finally belong.

In a different way.

A better way.

*************

I showed them all to Cort and asked him which one he liked best for Eddie and I to make.

Me:  Hey, babe.  Which of these do you like better?  I sort of like the Owl one, but getting a pencil is sort of boring.  But it’s cute.  What do you think?

Cort:  They’re all cute.  whatever.

Me:  Should I do this monster one?  That is cute.

Cort:  Do the bear one.  That looks easiest.  Plus we know the kids like Bear Grahams (what Eddie calls Teddy Grahams).

Me:  Ok.  Yeah.  The bear one.  Eddie can help me with that one.

Fast forward to this past Saturday morning.

Cort is going over the grocery list I made before he goes to the store to make sure he knows what I mean by everything.

Cort: Gummy Bears?

Me: Yeah, you know, for the Bear Valentine’s Eddie and I are going to make tomorrow?

Cort:  Oh. Right.  Ok.

And the boys leave me alone for a good hour to do the grocery shopping.

They get home and Eddie is all excited and sticky.

Wait…sticky?

I get a wipe and Eddie starts telling me something about candy and dinosaurs.  Cort smiles and says, “oh yes.  There was a theme to our shopping today.”

Oh fun!  I was glad Eddie was a good boy for grocery shopping and they could have some daddy/son fun.

I start to empty the groceries: cereal, poptarts, gummy dinosaurs, broccoli…

wait. gummy DINOSAURS?

Me: Um, babe?  Were they out of gummy bears? (perhaps said with more than needed attitude)

Cort: No.  We had a discussion and decided the dinosaurs were cooler.  Why?  Did it need to be bears?

Me:  Um. sort of.  It’s a BEAR HUG Valentine.  Dinosaurs don’t make sense (again said with WAY too much attitude).

Cort:  Do you want me to go back to the store?  (said trying to hold back the frustration of the wife who is maybe making too big a deal out of all of this).

Me: No.  We will just use the teddy grahams.  No biggie.  Wait…you bought dinosaur graham crackers too??

Cort: Yeah.  I told you.  It was a theme.

Me: THE WRONG THEME.

And this, my friends, is where I lost all sight that my husband took my son out of the house for over an hour so his pregnant, uncomfortable wife could shower in peace and then read her book alone.

Where I snapped off his head for forgetting something I probably would have forgotten too if I was trying to make fun and happy out of a grocery trip with a 2-year old.

Cort: It’s not the end of the world.  I will just go back.

Me (suddenly realizing I have lost my mind over something dumb): No. It’s ok.  I’ll make it work.  I’m sorry.

And I did.  Because there was no way I was making Cort go back out to the store over seven Valentines for kids under the age of five who will just scarf down the treat and toss the Valentine anyway.

So instead of “Bear Hugs to _____ from Eddie,”

We have “I think you’re DINO-MITE!  RAWR! From Eddie” (attached to a baggie with Meijer brand Dinosaur graham crackers and gummy dinosaurs).

It’s really more his style anyway.

Happy Valentine’s Day from Sluiter Nation!  We think YOU’RE Dino-mite!

RAWR!

So here we go…

Obsessing over…
The plans surrounding Charlie’s birth.  Sometimes I think knowing the date and time is just as bad for me as not knowing.  Luckily my mother-in-law is saving the day and taking Eddie in the morning so he can be FIRST to meet his brother.  That is VERY important to me for some reason.   And then we are saying no visitors until 4:00ish when people start getting off from work so I can actually rest and have alone time with my newborn…something I didn’t get last time.  But I can’t stop thinking about it.  The weird thing is that I really loved my hospital stay last time and I am hoping to love it just as much this time.  Weird? Maybe.

Working on…
Growing a baby, making long-term sub plans, giving all my free time to Eddie, and being nice to Cortney even when there is a foot in my ribs.

We are also perpetually working on Eddie’s Big Boy Room.

Thinking about…
What Charlie will look like…what will it be like to have two boys…what will it be like to sniff a baby head again…what Charlie’s personality will be like (please be chill like your daddy, Charlie)…how something has switched in my brain and I am totally looking forward to five plus months off from work to learn to be a mom of two….how much our lives are about to change.

Anticipating…
all the days on the calendar with NO PLANS and hoping to keep some of that just the way it is…and not apologize for it.

Listening to…
At this exact moment…The Grammys.  Lately, I have reignited my crazy love for Pearl Jam and cannot stop listening to live shows every morning on my drive in to work.

I’m also trying to listen to my body and my mind and my heart and doing what they need instead of what others might want.  That is where I went astray when I had Eddie and I refuse to do that again.

Eating…
Surprisingly well for being 9 months pregnant.  Small, fairly good for me meals and lots of fruit.

And lots and LOTS of peanut butter m&ms.

Wishing…
For a smooth rest of my pregnancy and a happy, healthy baby.

For a date with my cute husband ASAP after this baby is out and I can go up and down stairs again.

For ppd/a to just stay the crap away from me this time.