buy LyricaThis shop has been compensated by Collective Bias, Inc. and its advertiser. All opinions are mine alone. #V8Mornings #CollectiveBias
cheap Lyrica canada Before having kids, I naively had this dream of what mornings with my children would look like. I imagined it would involve them quietly slipping into my bed for some morning snuggles and all of us laying there peacefully and maybe reading a book before we got up to enjoy the day. I would then go to the living room and do a workout video while they play nicely. The morning workout would certainly be followed up by a hearty, healthy breakfast. I was naïve.
Don’t get me wrong, that type of instance does happen . . . maybe once every six months.
can you buy viagra in america Reality set in after we started actually having children. My mornings became filled with alarm clock buzzing, children fighting over the same toy, frantic rushing around trying to get everyone dressed with a naked toddler always somehow escaping before I can get clothes on him, and making sure the kids are fed.
Work out? If I wanted to accidentally trample a child, sure! For some reason, the moment I pop that awesome workout dvd into the player, the baby suddenly wants to be in my arms even though she had ignored me all morning up until that point and the toddler starts playing roulette with my legs to see how much he can weave in and out of them without getting stepped on.
And breakfast? Ha! IF I remember to eat, it’s usually a quick granola bar or something I can grab on the go, with nutrition being more of an afterthought.
If any of this sounds similar to your type of morning, don’t lose hope! I have discovered five simple things you can incorporate for a healthy start to your day while multitasking in the process! You can have a busy morning and still be healthy.
I have not been compensated for this post. But, I have received a copy of the book for free from the author, for my honest review and promotion. This post may contain affiliate links. For further information, please read my full disclosure.
“Mommy, why does daddy have to work for so long? Why can’t he come back?”
A lump caught in my throat as I bit my lip to fight the tears that threatened to spill out. There was no denying it had been a rough day for us. Daddy was already gone for several months, and we were still waiting for the end to be in sight. That day was particularly rough for all of us, and my 3-year old son was just expressing his desire for daddy to return from deployment.
He didn’t understand why daddy had to be gone for so long.
I continued to stroke his hair while his head laid in my lap.
“Daddy just has a very special job, buddy, and he can’t come home until it’s finished. But, I know he thinks about you every single day and he can’t wait to give you a great big bear hug!”
“Yeah,” he smiled. I could still hear the pain in his voice.
I love cake smash photos! I think it is so stinkin adorable to see the delight on the kiddos’ faces when they taste that icing for the first time or the disgust when they can’t understand why they are being asked to touch that sticky, sugary stuff.
There was definitely no disgust this past weekend, when I did a cake smash photo shoot with our baby girl. I never did one with the boys and now I am kicking myself! The photos turned out so well!
I have to say that the success of the photos was partly due to the super cute bubble-inspired cake idea that I got from the gorgeous Ashlyn over at Loves The Find.
Ashlyn is pretty much a new kindred spirit. She loves coffee, finding vintage deals, DIY projects, and anything budget-friendly! Sound familiar? If she didn’t live so far away, I’m pretty sure a girl date at a local coffee shop would be in order.
She is here on the blog today, to share some super cute and awesome DIY ideas and tips for an amazing birthday cake smash photo shoot! Continue reading →
I’m going against the modern grain and teaching my children that not everyone wins, and here’s why.
They were at it again. I could hear my boys squabbling over yet another episode of “Special Agent Oso.” It had come to the end of the episode where the stuffed bear agent “rewards” the viewing children with a special medal.
My boys always, without fail, will start arguing long before the medal part shows up. They argue over who is going to be the winner of the medal. Sometimes it gets pretty heated. They will even get physical with each other on occasion. It’s actually quite comical for me to witness.
When they first started fighting over the silly medal on this tv show, I almost stepped in.
I almost stepped in and told them that they needed to share the medal; that everyone wins.
I have this peach-colored, stretchy kind of shirt that had been sitting in my shirt drawer for what seemed like forever. It had been a while since I’d last worn it because it seemed to always fit the wrong way.
It hugged all of my curves, both the good ones and the ones that I would rather keep hidden. You know those unattractive back rolls? Yeah, this momma has them. One of these days I won’t have them anymore. I hope.
But, I did just spend several years in a row being pregnant constantly. As much as I tried keeping the weight off, six pregnancies in 5 years (four of them resulting in live births) don’t really give the body adequate time to recover. Throw in a couple years of severe postpartum depression, and you can imagine the impact my weight has received.
I decided to give the shirt another try. I slipped it on and stared at myself in the mirror. I looked slim. I felt beautiful. It didn’t seem to hug my curves like usual. A burst of confidence surged through me!
I got so excited and ran to the bathroom scale. I stepped on it, eager to see my apparent progress. The number that blinked back at me was not what I expected. Instead of losing, I had GAINED two pounds! No, it was not a result of working out and gaining muscle. I haven’t worked out in quite some time. I know; shame on me.
My confidence shattered and sprinkled all over the floor around me. I got off the scale and put it away, discouragement slowly filling inside me.
I stepped in front of the mirror again, and this time I didn’t see the slim woman I saw before. My curves looked awkward, and the shirt no longer seemed flattering.