Monthly Archives: December 2011


On New Year’s Eve ten years ago, I found out I was pregnant with my first. It was a shock, really. Planned, for sure, but I thought it would take me a long time to get pregnant based on my history of womanly issues. Nope, no problems at all – I got pregnant my first month off birth control.

I was ecstatic. And 23 years old. My plan was in motion, because you see, my plan growing up was to get married at 22 and have 3 kids at 24, 27 and 30. Then I’d be done.

Well, I got married at 22 and had my first beautiful daughter at 24. And then my first daughter was, well, Alaina.

Alaina was a hard baby. She was diagnosed with acid reflux, which at least let us understand a bit of what was up with her. But it wasn’t all acid reflux. That went away after about a year, but Alaina was still a really hard child to parent. I always said that she was so beautiful because she was so hard. And that God knew if she wasn’t so beautiful it would be harder to look at her and love her so when times were so tough.

That’s why there are four years, and not two as my original plan, between her and her sister. I just couldn’t handle having another until then. And honestly, I wasn’t so sure how it was even going to work.

But it did. Because God is good.

Our second daughter, Cameran, was an easy baby once we found out she was sensitive to dairy and I cut it out of my diet. And once we got over the initial transition to having two kids (and Alaina having to share her parents), all was well in the White house.

Even though I was 28 and off plan, I was perfectly fine with that. And I was “done” having kids.

And then one day at the park, the spring before Cami turned two years old, I just couldn’t say that I was done having kids anymore. And my doctor suggested I go off my birth control for 3 months to see if it would lower my blood pressure. It seemed like a sign – go off birth control and if I don’t get pregnant, we’ll stop trying and stick with the two wonderful little girls we already had.

The only problem is that 3 months came and went and I still wasn’t pregnant. But we both wanted me to be. So we decided we’d try another few months.

The only problem is that another few months came and went and I *still* wasn’t pregnant. And at this point, we were both getting upset because we really wanted to have another child now, after the last 9 months of trying. So we decided that Christmas that we’d try for 3 more months. It was just too hard *not* getting pregnant.

Two months later I found out I was pregnant (at 32, not 30 as planned). And when I gave birth to our son Lucas, I thought it would be the last time.

And then I saw his precious little face and couldn’t imagine never being in that place again. Never being pregnant again, never giving birth again, never seeing my child for the first time again. I just LOVE babies.

But I’m happy where I am in life in right now. I’m enjoying working a little while I get to spend so much time with Lucas. Cameran is going to start going to full-day kindergarten 3 days a week when school starts up again next week. Alaina is NINE and a baby at this point would put over 10 years between her and the newest baby.

But have I mentioned I LOVE babies?

This whole decision on whether or not we’re done having kids has put me completely in limbo. I just can’t seem to make a decision and stick by it. One day, (okay, let’s be honest) one morning I’m content with our three kiddos and by the evening, I’m ready to add another. And then by the next night, I’m back to being content with three.


Help me. How did you know?

A few PSAs…

Crazy busy weekends always result in more crazy right? Well, here you go. A PSA (or two) from each day of the weekend, starting early with:

Thursday: If you are 5 years old, do not attempt to move a 35 pound weight from your dad’s exercise set. It will fall and smash 4 of your toes and wind you up in the emergency room for 3 hours. Luckily, you will not break any of them (God only knows how THAT didn’t happen) but you will have to have one glued back together. And you still won’t be able to put a shoe on 4 days later.

Friday: #1: If you are really short, you should not attempt to wear brown boots that are mid-calf height, black tights and a denim, knee-length skirt. It chops you up and makes you look like the size of an elf. Opt for the safe black pants and heels. It is MUCH more attractive.

Friday: #2: If you have a weaning 13 month old and haven’t had more than 1 alcoholic drink in one sitting since you got pregnant, you should not have 3 glasses of wine at your new employer’s Christmas party. You will ask your husband “Why do people DO THIS time after time? I just don’t get it.” And he will promptly respond (even afterwards when  you don’t make this comment) “You only had 3 glasses of wine in 5 hours. You are a lightweight.” You will almost get car sick during the 30 minute drive home and you will want to vomit for a good hour laying in bed trying to rock yourself to sleep. Oh, and that 13 month old will smell you from inside his close-doored room and wake up, only wanting you, not caring that you drank one too many glasses of wine and feel like total hell. (The positive thing, is that you totally held yourself together at the party and drank MUCH less than most of the other people, so you didn’t make a fool of yourself there.)

Saturday: #1: The morning after is almost as bad.

Saturday: #2: If you have a 13 month old, do not take him to see his sister in The Nutcracker. He will not sit quietly through more than 5 minutes no matter how much milk and Cheerios you offer him and you will almost miss seeing your daughter perform. Even if he sat through a 2 hour Yuletide show at the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra, completely enamored, just a month before.

Sunday: Do not host your neighborhood Sunday Night Dinner of 8 other families on the same week you work 16 hours more than normal, have a trip to the ER, Christmas party and four Nutcracker performances. You will be SO. TIRED. And you still have to go back to work that night (for 4 hours) to do the work you didn’t do Thursday night because you were in the ER.

Learn people. Learn.

Soda Cracker Candy

Three years ago I went to my friend Danielle’s house for their first annual Oktoberfest. That night she served a dessert called Soda Cracker Candy. Let’s just call it “Crack.”

The same Danielle who wouldn’t stop pouring my grape juice when I was 6 itroduced me to this wonderful dessert that I’m sharing with you tonight.

This is a simple but decadent dessert. I made it tonight for our neighborhood Christmas party and it was a hit. Here’s what you’ll need:

  • 1 cup butter (2 sticks)
  • 1 cup brown sugar
  • Saltine crackers (about 1 1/4 sleeves)
  • 1 bag semi-sweet chocolate chips
  1. Cover a cookie sheet with aluminum foil and grease with butter or cooking spray.
  2. Line cookie sheet with crackers.
  3. Melt butter in a small saucepan on low heat. Add brown sugar and whisk until completely combined. Stir slowly and bring to a boil. Let boil for 1 minute.
  4. Pour over crackers, covering them completely. (You may have to spread the caramelized mixture over the crackers to cover them evenly. Work fast though, because it’ll start to harden if you’re too slow.)
  5. Bake at 350 degrees for 8 minutes.
  6. When you remove the pan from the oven, immediately sprinkle with chocolate chips. As the chocolate chips start to melt, spread it evenly over the caramelized crackers.
  7. Let cool completely and then cut into squares. (I waited a good 2 hours and used a pizza cutter to follow the cracker outlines.)

I’ll warn you – these are very rich and addictive, hence the “crack” nickname. They taste a bit like toffee. Enjoy!

I’m late.

Like always recently. For wanting to write, for work, for other things that confirm you’re not preggo. (Clarification: I’m not pregnant. I was just late.)

I wanted to write for Just Write yesterday. On the day you’re “supposed” to just write. But didn’t. You know, because I had to work (not in my basement!) all morning and then pick Cami up from school and then go get Baby Jedi from daycare.

DAYCARE! You would think this being my third kiddo in daycare, that it would have been easier… And probably unrelated (but you just can’t be sure, ya know) Baby Jedi had his first lay-on-the-floor-face-down temper tantrum. And he hit me for the first time. In two separate incidents.

And then after the kids went to bed I tried to work from home more, because I was given a HUGE deadline at work that is going to take way more than my 6 hours of office time in the next week. But, couldn’t, because I didn’t have the softward capabilities to do so. Ugh. Annoyed.

This whole winter setting in thing, my baby turning one and starting daycare two mornings a week, and PMS? Well, it has pretty much kicked my butt these last couple of weeks and it set in really good yesterday.

Though I did have good hair yesterday. That was a plus.

I’m feeling better today. I’m taking dinner to a family tonight whose 6 year old daughter is fighting an inoperable tumor that is a rapid moving cancer. Kinda puts things into perspective. 

And, on a lighter note, I went to Trader Joe’s. I mean, who can’t feel better after going to Trader Joe’s? And I got peppermint taffy. Mmmm… Oh, and Udi’s gluten-free bagels as a splurge. (Really, $4.99 for FOUR bagels?!) And I just ate one, toasted with peanut butter, and it was divine. Definitely what I needed today.

So thanks Trader Joe’s. I bet you never knew you were a partial cure for SAD, huh?