It’s been a really picture heavy week on the blog. Let’s keep going.

I take a lot of crooked pictures.

I forgot to take my Zoloft over the weekend – three days in a row total – and I started to feel pretty lousy. Not losing-my-mind crazy but irritable and anxious and unfocused. I thought maybe I was overreacting but decided it (probably) wouldn’t kill me to take an extra pill to get back on track. So on Monday I took one at noon and one at bedtime – which is when I usually take it. Oddly, if I take it in the mornings I have really vivid crazy house on fire naked Christmas farm animal Barry Manilow pregnant high school war opening night Hunger Games dreams. And that’s even if I DON’T read dystopian fantasy novels while I fall asleep. So I took two and hoped I wasn’t over medicating myself into a coma or a heart attack or something.

INSTEAD, I did ALL THE THINGS in the past two days. And in a good way, not a “I’M BORED, LETS CUT BANGS” way.  I finally dealt with the mountain of baby clothes in Caroline’s room and organized her summer wardrobe (because yeah, girl has too many outfits). I bought plastic totes and put away craft supplies and decorations from Evan’s birthday party that happened *ahem* more than a month ago. I steam mopped all the floors. But not only is the house clean, I’m competing in an imaginary contest for Mother of the Year Week. We did puzzles (I HATE puzzles) and put on boots to splash outside and blew a billion bubbles and went to the library and read the same books over and over and over and over and over and tracked down all the balls to all the toys and let the kids them jump all over me and sang songs loudly and let them ride the elevators even though we didn’t need to and let them eat the last giant marshmallow. Even when I was annoyed I calmly explained to Evan he needed to listen better or I would have to use my angry voice – and I KNOW, saying stuff like that sounds RIDICULOUS but when my 3 year old says “Mommy, I can’t want you use your angry voice and I can’t want use my angry voice so let’s have hugs and kisses” I dies of cuteness so I don’t care how ridiculous it sounds. Plus, it worked. He now recognizes my angry voice AND his angry voice and knows how to stop them.

(Extra bonus cuteness: Evan had to have a blood draw for his anemia test an he was REALLY sad – although again, I handled it a zillion times better than I normally would have – and afterwards I asked if he wanted a Happy Meal and he said “No Mommy, I need a Sad Meal”.)

(Double extra bonus cuteness: Evan has stopped calling Caroline “Baby Sister” and started calling her “Stinky Pants”…which, oops, but when he yells “COME BACK STINKY PANTS!” across Target I can’t stop laughing long enough to breathe let alone feel bad about the nickname.)

ANDPLUSALSO I gave myself an at-home hair treatment – honey and olive oil, which sounds like a crazy mistake but actually did wash out and made my ends softer – and finally tried no heat curls (my hair says “MEH”) and I’m feeling pretty good about myself in general, despite eating too many ice cream sandwiches.

So now I’m wondering if I should call my doctor and ask to raise my Zoloft dose or just blame my sudden productivity on the domino effect of accomplishment – you know, where you get that happy buzz from seeing an empty kitchen sink so you decide to wipe down the cabinets and then the floors and then BAM you’re suddenly hoping the UPS guy shows up just so you can be proud of your super clean house when you open the door. I don’t think two days is long enough to definitely say my medication is why I’m doing so well but with everything else still as stressful as it was last week (E hasn’t seen the kids since Sunday because he’s working such long hours, rainy days, Evan is still three) I am desperate to keep it up. I LIKE being productive and happy. It’s definitely preferable to anxious, grumpy, shouty and tired.

WHAT SHOULD I DO, INTERNETS? Please come over to discuss, so I can show you my spotless kitchen counters.

p.s. Anyone still interested in a home tour link-up/blog hop/whatever? I should show off this place before it all goes to crap again.

One of my favorite things about meeting internet friends is finding out they are EXACTLY the same as they seem online (and surprisingly, almost everyone I met has been). It’s even better when their KIDS are exactly the same as they seem online (spoken: adorable and charming). The cherry on top is when my kids are also adorable and charming and everyone has a fantastic day. The end. Well, except for this set of pictures of Kim’s kids being awesome with mine at Dinosaur State Park in Rocky Hill.

Caroline + O

I think she likes him.

Awww, he likes her back!

Such good picture takers (notice the missing child)

The kids thought the best part was playing with the gravel on the trail

Oh no, I fell over! Look at me! I'm still adorable!

Caroline decided Kim was just as good as Mommy

Dandelion wishes

You will not be the least bit surprised to hear JD is a child model

No guys, the camera is THIS WAY

They match, hilariously.

I consider this a perfect group shot, considering there are 4 kids in it

LOUD NOISES

Caroline is all "SIT STILL, I WANT TO MAKE SURE SHE GETS MY GOOD SIDE"

Kim + Me = Awesome

Goodbye Hugs

Thank you to our friends for the wonderful day – at to my husband for helping us wrangle two VERY energetic boys.

I’m writing this while willfully ignoring my children, who are running in circles throwing raisins at each other and vying for the title of “Loudest Noise Ever Made By Someone Who Weighs Less Than 35 Pounds”.  I am torn between feeling extremely guilty for not being a more active parent at this moment and knowing my sanity cannot take another minute of being used as a human jungle gym.

Evan and Caroline are going through a phase in their relationship – God, I HOPE it’s only a phase – where they are constantly trying to kill each other. Evan sits on Caroline’s head, Caroline shoves Evan off the couch, they both attempt to stand up on the ride-on fire truck. And when I shout at them to KNOCK IT OFF ALREADY they hug and make up…although the hug turns into a squeeze and then into a pushing match and then they’re rolling on the floor squealing again. I don’t think any of it is meant with malice, but damn is it exhausting. I need to record myself saying “Use your words” and “Hands are for hugs and high fives” and “Be gentle” and “Make wise choices!” so I can just play it on an endless loop.

It’s been one of those weeks where being a stay-at-home-mom doesn’t really feel like a privilege anymore. It feels like an endless, hopeless, pointless chore that is destined to drive me over the edge long before these kids become fully self-sufficient. We had an incredibly fun playdate on Monday with one of my very favorite mom friends and we started talking about preschools. We got a little giddy thinking about how next year we could both be child-free a few hours a week if we sent our youngest to under-2 programs, but then she said “I kind of feel bad though. I mean, this is why I stayed home – to be home with them.” And that is SO TRUE – although slightly less true for me (who quit working in a real estate office) than her (who had a really fancy job working to cure cancer). But I am home because I want to spend these years with the kids. Evan is more than half way to kindergarten. Kindergarten is full time school! He will take a bus! I will have hours and hours five days a week without him! And Caroline is only 20 months behind him. I’ll have 13 years of free time during the day to go to Target or unload the dishwasher or weed the garden or eat bonbons and read blogs.

But it’s hard to see beyond the next day of full time momming when my kids are hungry and cranky and sunburned and screaming and my husband calls to say he won’t be home before 9 pm. And it’s hard to stay positive when it rains for four days straight and I go to bed and wake up with a headache. And it’s hard to remember how lucky I am when Caroline smashes me in the face so hard with her head I see stars. And it’s really really hard not to beat myself up when I use my shouty voice practically every time I open my mouth even though I KNOW I’m using my shouty voice and I hate my shouty voice. I bet good moms who really appreciate how privileged they are to be home with their kids don’t even HAVE a shouty voice. I feel even though I recognized I was struggling and did what I was supposed to do and got help and I take my pill like a good 1950’s housewife I still fail, daily, to be the mother my kids deserve.

I know I am not the only mom who feels like this. Probably. I just have to remember that one bad afternoon (or day or week) doesn’t mean tomorrow can’t be better. Or hell, today can be better. After nap time we braved the crazy New England weather – rain! sunshine! wind! heat! cold! all at once! – and worked in the garden. Evan thought planting seeds was the most amazing thing ever and he can’t wait until we have a bean stalk that goes all the way up to the sky. Caroline carried her little pink watering can around like a baby. We talked about how our tomatoes need sun and water and food so they can grow and I forced the metaphor down my own throat so hard I practically choked. But I needed that moment in the dirt to remind me WHY I am so lucky to be here, even if Caroline did just throw a plastic cell phone at her brother’s head while he tried to ride the cat.

I should probably make this two separate posts so people Googling to find out what to expect at their kid’s first dentist appointment don’t also have to read about my laser hair removal (and vice versus), but it seems like a waste of space so just skip to the part that’s more interesting to you.

Evan & Caroline’s First Dental Appointments

I took the kids to a pediatric dentist hoping they would be more prepared for possibly difficult children…and they WERE. The paperwork I filled out included spaces to write down stuff like pets and hobbies  so the hygienist talked to Evan about those as a distraction. She sang him little songs and let him touch and look at and work all the tools before she used them. The appointment went tongue depressor/saliva culture, rinse, brush with regular brush, rinse, brush with electric brush, rinse, tarter scraping, flossing, tooth count, fluoride treatment (which was just brushed on), see dentist. Evan LOVED the water squirter and the mouth vacuum and didn’t mind the electric toothbrush but was NOT a fan of the scraper. By the end of the appointment he had to sit in my lap and lean back so I could hold him still but we got through it. The worst part was after his Childrens Dental Cleaning we had to go in and see the dentist so she could count all his teeth again but he was OVER IT by that point. Luckily, the dentist was just as kind and understanding as the hygienist, check them out for an affordable dental check-up.

Since Caroline is only 16 months, she got her teeth brushed with a regular toothbrush, got to play with all the tools and then freaked the hell out when the hygienist tried to look in her mouth. She also got a fluoride treatment and had a couple of spots that needed to be flossed (turns out you only have to floss the teeth that are really close together and most baby teeth aren’t, so my lack of flossing wasn’t quite as serious of a sin as I thought). Poor baby screamed through the tooth counting from both the hygienist and the dentist but again they were super understanding and kind. They were kind of the same as the professional dentist Vinterbro Tannklinikk. The office had lots of toys and stickers and everyone was very friendly and happy. Also, the building is brand new and extremely fancy and impressive and if anyone local is looking for a dentist let me know and I’ll recommend them.

Truly, it wasn’t nearly as bad as I was expecting. I think using a pediatric dentist who knows how to work with kids was a big part of the success. And bless them, because dealing with kids like mine (or worse) all day must be EXHAUSTING.

Laser Hair Removal Treatment

I was really worried about pretty much everything surrounding this appointment, but it was not awful. I had been avoiding doing any, uh, grooming on my bikini line (since that’s what I chose to use my Groupon to have lasered) but it turns out that was the wrong decision. The tech explained you’re supposed to shave anywhere you want lasered so she knows what shape you’re looking for. Since no one told me, she just used a little disposable razor to do it after I put on the very sexy disposable underpants. On a scale of people up in your lady business, it fell somewhere between wearing a bathing suit in public and a regular bikini wax. It was nowhere NEAR as personal as an OB exam or a Brazilian wax.

The tech covered the area in ultrasound gel which was cold but I think helped with the pain. The laser was a lot smaller than I imagined – sort of like one of those hotel hair dryers – with two little metal bits about an half an inch apart. People had told me it hurt like a rubberband snapping or a burn, but I thought it felt pretty much exactly like plucking out hairs with tweezers. She zapped me probably 50 times for each side and the whole thing took less than 20 minutes. I’d say about 40% of the zaps were painless, 40% were a little bit stingy, and 20% really hurt. For some reason the left side hurt a lot more than the right side.

The laser sends a super strong beam of heat right down into the hair follicle and kills it. It doesn’t remove the hair that’s there now, so I’m supposed to keep shaving and exfoliating every day until the hair that’s in the shaft under the skin gets pushed out. Hair grows and falls out in cycles (which is why you lose so much hair post-partum – it stops falling out and just grows until after you give birth) so I have to go back 2 more times to get all the hairs but I’m supposed to see 40-80% of the hair fall out in the next 2 weeks. My next appointment is in 6 weeks with a slightly stronger laser and 6 weeks after that I’ll get an even stronger laser and then I should be hairfree. Since I am fair skinned and don’t tan well, I’m an excellent candidate for this kind of removal and probably won’t have any discoloration. My skin is still a tiny bit tender but not anywhere near the pain level of a wax. I already feel like this was the best $99 I’ve ever spent on myself.

And that ends the weirdest combination blog post ever. Any questions?