Fit for a Princess

We finally got Goose a bed this weekend.

A princess bed of her very own.

She has been sleeping on a mattress on the floor... for months.

For her birthday in March, my mother in law wanted to get her a big girl bed.

We couldn't find time to go shopping and in April, we decided to move.

So, we told her we would just wait until we moved into the new house to get her a bed.

She still had her toddler bed anyway.

Then, our house burned down.

 

Her toddler bed and mattress were still at the old house.

But we were thankful that we didn't ever get around to getting her a new bed.

But unfortunately, it wasn't our #1 priority anymore.

We had to restock the kitchen.

And bathroom.

And buy a new vacuum.

So we just kept putting it off.

Goose never got her bed.

This weekend we decided ENOUGH is ENOUGH!

Our girl needs, nay, deserves, to have a bed of her own.

Hubs wanted to get a bunk bed or a trundle.

I wanted a day bed.

Something cute and girly.

And lucky for us (Goose, my MIL and I)

Hubs wasn't shopping with us.

So we got her something SUPER girly!

He wasn't too thrilled, but its not his bed.

It's Goose's bed.

And she loves it!

She can't wait to get curtains to hang from the canopy.

So she can have "privacy."

Her words, not mine.

She spent a good hour last night making her bed.

And arrainging her babies.

It was definately worth the wait.

Bed found here.

It was only $399 in store!

I want to go to there...

Dreamland.

I didn't want to get out of bed this morning. I don't want to get out of bed on ANY morning.

I would never want to get out of bed if my room looked like this. Sadly it does not. We rent, so that means no turquoise walls for me.

But I do have extra Christmas lights. And I do live in the Great ole Northwest; ripe with bare trees as far as the eye can see.

I think I may just make Hubs go branch hunting for me this weekend. (But he doesn't get the whole "branches in the room" thing.) I promised him I would keep our room cleaned, but he doesn't believe me.... ::sigh:: He's right.

I still want a pretty bedroom though.

One day, when we buy a house, I will have a pretty bedroom with branches and Christmas lights and I will paint my walls turquoise (or whatever color I effing want!)



Pic from Smile and Wave via weheartit

Validation (and kinda bragging, I guess)

"Wheedle on the Needle"
By Stephen Cosgrove
Illustrated by Robin James

As a mom, and a working one at that, I suffer from this condition called "Mother's Guilt."

I'm sure you mom's out there are well familiar with what I am talking about. The feeling of never being there enough for your child, constant questioning... Do you let your kid watch TV? Does your family eat organic? Caught up on doctor's appointments? And of course, we all know that 3 year olds aren't all that great with showing their appreciation. Being a mother is constant hard work. And if you get several moms in the same room, they will all tell you that their way is the right way but that they feel just as guilty as every other mom out there.

I've finally come to grips with the fact that there is no such this as "The Perfect Mother" and I am certainly not it. As a person, I come with a whole basket full of faults. I'd be naive to think I could be perfect at anything... Well, except for being just lil ole me. And it took me quite a long time to realize that.

I know my house isn't clean enough. There is constantly laundry piled on the couch and craft supplies on the floor. My carpet is stained, Goose's room looks like a tornado hit it. I'm sure I let her watch too much TV and eat too much junk food. And she still isn't completely potty trained (almost, but not quite...)

But, well... meh.

Goose is a well adjusted child. She is happy.

I get more hugs and kisses than I can count. The kid prefers carrots to chocolate, always eats her veggies and drinks all her milk. And she is smarter than any 3 year old should be. She knows all her letters, can type her name on the computer, as well as my name (both Kelsy and Mommy) and Hubs. She is constantly asking what words are when she sees letters she recognizes and can even do some basic math. She knows that 1+1+1+1=4 and that 3+2=5. She has even begun to "write" stories. Goose has a love of art and music that I could have only wished for!

Hubs and I are so proud of her. We both hope to have her reading before she starts Kindergarten. Ever since she was born, we have read to her every night. Two books, one from Mommy and one from Daddy. I was speaking to a friend recently and talking about Hub and my goals for Goose and I mentioned that she is read to every night. My friend was surprised! I read to my child every night?! How do I find the time? She asked. She complained that she tried to read to her kiddos every day but couldn't find the time.

But how hard is it to carve out an extra 10 minutes to benefit your child? I don't even notice anymore, its just part of the bedtime routine. And I can't imagine losing that 10 minutes! I crawl into her bed and snuggle up under the covers and we read. And we talk about our day and if we have any prayers to say. We talk about what we would like to dream about and what we will be doing the next day. Then Daddy reads, then kisses and hugs. Then Goose will stay up for a while longer "reading" to herself.

Magic.

At least until she comes out of her room for the umpteeth time for kisses/hugs/water/potty, etc.

So I guess, wrapping this up (I always have a hard time concluding my blog posts), it's nice to feel a little bit of validation and know that I'm not that bad of a mother! ;-P

"There's a Wheedle on the Needle
I know just what you're thinking.
But if you look up late at night,
You'll see his red nose blinking."

Have a Wonderful Night!!!

Bedtime Thoughts

Sitting here, with a cat in my lap, my eyes growing tired and I think I may go to bed after this, but I thought I would leave you with a little memory I have. Its something I think of every night before I go to sleep. Its something that helps me relax and drift off into the land of Nod.

I remember when I was very young, my brother, dad and I were camping in the backyard. We had the tent set up in the far part of the yard, under the trees. I'm sure we roasted marshmallows in a makeshift fire pit (i.e. old metal BBQ). It was late and the three of us were tucked into our sleeping bags, my dad conveniently positioned in between my brother and I. You know, to stop those inevitable fights.

"Kelsy? Are you awake" my little brother whispered to me in the dark/

"Yes" I answered.

"I can't sleep, I'm scared." He said to me. In the silence all you could hear were crickets and maybe some bats and the gentle rustling of the trees in the breeze.

I told him to breath in through his nose and out through he mouth as deeply and slowly as he could. To think about his breathing and not about the noises outside of the tent. That eventually he would be alseep and wouldn't even know it.

We breathed together a while, me coaxing him "in... out... in... out..." until eventually my voice faded to silence and we both drifted off to sleep.

I didn't learn until may years later that my dad happened to be awake for the entire exchanged. That he hadn't wanted to interrupt such a tender moment between the two of us, since they were so few and far between.

I think about this alot. Not just when I go to bed, but any time I breath deeply. Practicing those techniques my therapist (oh man, I feel terribly pretentious saying that!) is trying to convince me will get me through those panic attacks. I think about those simple times, camping in the back yard and I yearn to get back to that. To a time when my brother looked up to me and valued my advice. I time when I was able to comfort him.

But things aren't the same and times have changed. But I can still hang onto those happy places when I drift off to sleep.