The worst week ever

It's Monday. That means it's a brand new week. That means I am going to pretend last week just never happened at all.

Last Sunday I learned our little family has a file at the Emergency room. If you are wondering how you can accomplish this, just visit your local Emergency Room no less than 5 times in the 2 year span you live somewhere and I am sure they will give you one too. Super fun bragging rights.

The worst week ever began like any other normal Sunday. I was letting the boys play while I quickly ran in my room to get dressed for the YMCA before church. In the 3 minutes I was pulling on my workout clothes the boys were in the room and my older son Brooks came yelling for me that Luke was eating something. Well Luke eats everything so that didn't really set off my alarm trigger. Until Brooks came to me with one of the little tiny finger lights he loves to play with from the dollar store. He had taken it apart and was holding 1 tiny battery. It was then that he told me that there were 3 batteries and Luke had eaten 2 of them. PANIC MODE.

I went into complete crazy mom and we were at the ER in about 7 minutes I think. By the time I got there I had prayed the whole way and God had given me some peace about the whole situation which is crazy. I had been once before when I was convinced Luke swallowed a dime and they ended up not finding anything. So I think at that point I really thought they weren't going to find anything and we would still make church.

There is so no worse feeling in the entire world than thinking you failed your kids. My entire day is devoted to their well being. Staying home brings a lot of pressure, which is why if you're kid is being a real jerk one day you want to bang your head against the wall, because that is a bad work day. So when they wheeled the little x-ray machine over and immediately find the 2 tiny circle batteries in Luke, I had a total breakdown. It was not pretty. I felt horrible that I had left them for a minute in Brooks' room even though I had done that a million times before and I still feel like they should be able to play together in there (since then I have baby-proofed like you wouldn't believe, the only things left to play with are dinosaurs the size of their heads.)

So as I was bawling like an idiot in the ER about 4 training ER students come over and decide this is the right time to observe our little wing. They learn about all our past visits, take a few minutes to learn about the current situation, and decide they will probably not have kids ever. But seriously I am really thankful for those students because they entertained Brooks and allowed me to pull it together to hear about our next move. I was shocked to learn they weren't going to go in to Luke with some inspector gadget like device and pull those puppies out of there. But since they could tell they were completely intact and past the stomach, almost out, they said that we will just wait for them to "exit." I went home with tons of rubber gloves ready to go through Luke's poop looking for batteries. All the while, my husband is at work in NFL training camp with no ability to leave. Ay carumba.

So we headed home and I immediately began feeding Luke fruit, fiber one bars, anything. He didn't end up passing the batteries until the next morning......right after I got my first round of an EMERGENCY ROOT CANAL. Hence the worst week ever.

That evening, as if I was going to sleep a wink anyway, knowing 2 tiny batteries were swishing around in my babies belly, I had an insane sharp pain in my tooth begin about 11 p.m. It got progressively worse every hour until finally at 5 a.m., I called our dentist's emergency hotline. Yes that's right. I called the dentist emergency hotline. I am so embarrassed to admit that but I had 2 babies without an epidural and this pain was worse! I called the office in a panic, they said there was an emergency hotline, and I called it. Turns out it was my sweet dentist's home line and I am sure his wife didn't appreciate the psychopath on the other end of the phone saying that if I didn't get some pain relief I was going to be forced to pull my own tooth out with a tweezers or research his address and come on over. Luckily my doctor knows me and all my crazy and calmly said he would get to the office by 7:30 a.m. and that I should be there. Luckily I have an amazing friend Jessica who was at my house by 7 a.m. to watch my kids so I could go.

So I hate the dentist. I hate it more that roll of mom flap that goes over my jeans when I lean across the table for bread. I hate it more than nights when my toddler takes 72 minutes to go to bed because he is afraid he is going to miss a call from the President of Africa about the safety of Zebras. I hate it more than spending 60 dollars on diapers when I really want a new dress from Target. I really do not like enjoy the dentist. That being said, I do love my actual dentist because he is kind and he understands I am a big fat baby who doesn't want to be there and he calls in a hygienist to hold my hand while he does that horrible shot on my mouth. I always feel bad when I tell him I would rather be anywhere else in the world than sitting in that chair. He takes it like a man and says I know, this will be fast.

Turns out I had a very infected molar and it was so bad it took TWO appointments to get it worked out. How trashy am I? Not only do I have an infected tooth but it was so bad he couldn't even get through it in one appointment. I feel like I have the teeth of an old English woman. My poor husband who works so hard just to keep my rotting teeth in my head. I swear I brush my teeth and after a 5-year hiatus from the dentist I have been going every 6 months now for over a year. I have been brushing like a crazy person since last week because I never ever want to have pain like that again! Or someone to tell me I have an infected tooth. Blech blech blech.

So there is my story, worst week ever. So praise the Lord I am off to Cape Cod today to see my family. I am flying with my boys alone so the airport better be stocked up on chardonnaaaay. Go get your teeth cleaned my loves.
xoxo Big Mama

Big Mama's Favorite Granola Bars

I wanted to get a quick blog up today before my kids woke up from their nap but I spent far too much time MAKING MY FACEBOOK FAN PAGE. Yes you read that correctly, and yes, you can have my autograph. I have no idea what I am doing but I am trying to grow my blog so I decided to make a Big Mama Taylor page! I plan to post the crazy weird things that happen to me and the insane things that come out of my kiddos mouths. So come on over to Big Mama's facebook fan page and like it! https://www.facebook.com/BigMamaTaylor

Today I wanted to share one of my very favorite mom-on-the-go recipes. We stay pretty busy here at Casa de Taylor. I try to hit up our local YMCA every day, because they have free childcare, and I get a break and a tighter booty. I am in love with the workers there for loving on my children and giving me a break, and if we miss a day, they send out the search unit. Heaven forbid I miss my daily free child care! Seriously though I do not know what I would do without the Y. We typically have at least one thing going on after the YMCA as well. We meet a friend at the park, go to a movie, or go to the grocery, but we are going all morning. I like to think of my children as hyper pets who need exercise, so I call it "running the boys." So these homemade granola bars have become a staple in my house. I got them off another fabulous mom blog I read, the Marathon Mom! Click around her site because she is amazing! The Marathon Mom Granola Bars

Of course mine do not look nearly as good as the Marathon Mom's but I am ok with that! The first few times I made them exactly according to the recipe and they were so yummy. Definitely give it one try following the Marathon Mom's way because they rock. But over time I have gotten lazy and often just dump the whole jar of coconut oil, natural peanut butter, some flax, and throw in some honey and call it good. I also add way more flax than it calls for because I sorta can't get enough flaxseed in my life. Since I have stopped measuring and just thrown stuff in, they have been a little different every time, but my kids don't seem to mind and they are still yummy! 

Here is Big Mama's version:

Ingredients:

• 1 can of whatever natural peanut butter costs the least and has no added sugar. Just peanuts. (Or almond butter or cashew butter or a combo!)
• Big Dollop of good honey. I read one time that most  mass produced honey in stores now is not true honey from bees and just glorified sugar, so I spend the money on good local honey from hole foods, and just don't use much
• 1 jar of coconut oil
• Bunch of oats (I dump in until a very thick consistency develops, that's hard to stir)
• Bunch of ground flax
• Little bit of chia seeds
• 1 bag of good dark chocolate chips

Instructions: Melt the nut butter, honey and coconut oil in a saucepan. Make sure all the nut butter is completely melted or it will clump. The natural nut butter is hard to melt and takes time. Keep the heat on very low and whisk for 5-10 minutes. Do not let it boil. Remove from heat and add the ground flax, oats, and pecans or walnuts if desired. Spread into a pan that has been buttered or sprayed or lined with parchment paper. Since I don't measure I typically use a large 13x9 pan and sometimes also use an 8x8 pan depending on how much I have. Refrigerate the bars and then cut them with a sharp knife. Store in fridge or freezer. 

When we are running out the door I can't think of anything better than to know we have had a yummy treat that includes protein, good fats in coconut oil, and all the benefits of flax. Happy Baking Y'all!

xoxo Big Mama

Big Mama Out in the World Alone

I traveled this past weekend to one of my best gal pal's weddings. Jenni and I lived together at Marquette for 3 years. If you know anything about me in college you know that this is an amazing feat. We lived in a teeny tiny dorm room our sophomore year, and basically ate little besides microwaved popcorn and spray butter. I am actually not entirely sure how we survived that entire year on spray butter but we did it.

Since Zac is in training camp I traveled to the wedding solo. I have gotten pretty used to hitting all my weddings alone with a hubby who has an intense work schedule. It's not my favorite, but I have to say, when you live in a world catering to 2 toddlers all day, you can find the joy in the little things pretty easily. While I would have rather waited in the airport with my hand on my handsome hubby's thigh, asking him where he would want to go if he could go anywhere in the world, I was very happy to sit at Gate E4 and not have to get anybody goldfish or wipe a booger. 

My mom taught me something very important a long time ago and it was that when you get a break from the kids, be thankful, and don't wish it away. She is so right. In the early stages with our first child, Brooks, I would spend a night away with my husband looking at pictures the entire time and retelling the story about how he blinked and he was probably going to be the smartest baby ever. I would spend the entire break I got pining for the smell of my baby, and rush in the door only to realize 10 minutes later that I already wanted another break. What?! How did this happen? When I was gone I missed him so bad.

Well I got wise. I love my kids and I love my job being a mom. But gosh darnet everyone needs a break to make sure their brain is still working and not stuck on macaroni auto pilot. So now, when someone asks how my kids are, I pretend I can't hear them tell them quickly that they are doing wonderfully, and I get my mom butt to the wedding dance floor where it belongs. I talk about fashion, and things I will never wear. I talk about the Real Housewives, because frankly there's nobody in my house who I can talk to about that. There is no shame in enjoying the kid-free time, and I now treat alone trips to the grocery store like they are weekend excursions to Vegas. Because in the grand scheme of my current life, they kinda are. So if you see me skipping down the aisles in Publix, sorry I'm not sorry. I am having the time of my life.

Yes I love my boys. Yes I love to stay home with them, and devote my entire life to their evolvement. However, the following are a few things that I noted on my weekend getaway that are the best parts of getting a break from mommyhood....

A) 2 hands on the coffee mug: My kids can spend 20 minutes straight not needing my attention in the morning but the second they see me pick up my scorching cup of hot coffee they are both hanging off my leg like I have been missing for 72 hours. I am also now at the stage with crazy boys where I have turned around with a cup of hot coffee in my hand to a boy screaming "Mom catch!" Catch a football, catch a dinasour, catch a handful of blocks. Catch this shirt that I accidentally peed all over (working on aim here people). Just catch. We expect you to catch this crap while you hold your coffee. Oh and it's not even 7 a.m. yet so look alive sista. Both mornings while I was away, I held my coffee cup with a death grip and 2 hands out of habit. I realized this the first morning as I looked down and noticed the white knuckles surrounding my sweet coffee. So I took a moment and cried silently, happily into my coffee. I talked to it a little bit and told it how much I loved it. And I drank the whole thing. While it was hot. Then I cried some more.

B) Sleeping is glorious: Pretty sure I am not the only household that is like this. I wake to the sound of one of my children's nose hairs moving out of place. Yes. Just the wind, moving a nose hair, will wake me up. My husband could sleep through a tsunami from our pool in our backyard. Every night. This is not to say he is a bad husband. With both children, he gave me breaks at my hormonal tipping point anytime I needed, sleeping in the guest room so that he could hear the baby cry while I soaked up my first 5 hours of straight sleep in months. He could see the writing on the wall when he would come home from work and I would tell him how I would probably have to murder him in his sleep if I didn't get to string together a nap. He did it all in the name of a sane wife and he never once said no to helping me. But goodness gracious where do I learn how to sleep like a husband? I have had both children screaming in the night and I wake up in a complete panic, completely drenched in sweat (when do the hormones stop?), running to their bedroom before I am even aware my body is moving. Meanwhile, my husband is in the deepest REM sleep of his life, sleeping with an actual smile on his face. I have no idea how he pulls this off. Of course I have woken him up, only to yell at him for sleeping so wonderfully. I am jealous and it's all I can do not to scream right in his ear that his children are awake. But I'll handle it. Just wanted him to be aware of this 2 a.m. situation. However, when I travel, those itty bitty voices and sneezes and crying are no longer there. It's just me, and a bed. And covers I didn't have to wash or change. So I pull the blankets up to my chin, and I breathe a huge sigh of relief, for tonight I will get one REM cycle of sleep. And it will be magical.

C) Wardrobe Options: You really don't know living until you are getting dressed and think, ahhh, I don't have to worry if anyone is going to smear peanut butter on this outfit! Who cares if I can't even bend over in these jeans - I won't have to pick up a 40 lb bag of sugar 100 times today! I can wear whatever I want!! Before I had kids, I truly thought that I would be that mom at the park in the cute silk sundress, gold flats, hair perfectly curled in tendrils with just enough lipgloss one swipe of mascara. Less than 1 year in I owned so many yoga pants I could probably go 3 months and still be in a clean rotation. My mascara is either non existent or weeks old and crusted on there for life. Listen people, playing at the park I get SWEATY, and I need clothes that can ABSORB MOISTURE, or else mama ain't gonna be happy. On any typical errand, someone is more likely to puke or spit on me then they are likely to NOT puke or spit on me. So gross, unwashed, outdated workout clothes are just the smarter option. Dreams of being a cute mom are gone. I am workout mom, and there is a solid chance I am going to flick my kids booger off of my top, and wear this shirt again tomorrow.

D) Haha. That's not my kid game: One of my favorite things to do in these travel situations is actually find children in total and complete meltdown mode and watch for 10-15 seconds, just to remind myself how lucky I am in that moment. Because I have been in said meltdown situations, I feel I can do this without sounding like a horrible person. I have had my younger child completely melt down on a bathroom floor, flailing his body around like a tornado, swirling and slowly mopping up every germ on the bathroom floor, in a bathroom so gross you consider not actually going to the bathroom because you fear you might actually touch a microscopic part of the door or toilet or sink. My kid has been the swiffer of a public restroom. I have watched Brooks rest a lollipop on the rim of the toilet seat in a restaurant bathroom, and pick it back up to eat. In my defense I was changing Luke on a changing table and I could not leave the child abandoned. And yes, I yelled "Don't eat the lollipop." Last fall I traveled with Brooks and Luke alone to Oklahoma and Brooks ate old chewing gum out of the barf bag in our seat. I asked him where he got the gum, and he said, it was in this present bag they left for us. OMG. You think that 20/20 special on what's really lurking on the hotel comforters is gross? This isn't even 1/10 of my germ stories. Throw me a gallon of that hand sanitizer because I have earned this judgement. And I will help you get on the plane with your crazy animals because I have been there. 

Next time you are alone out in that big world alone Mamas, dress the part. Wear the jeans that you can't sweat in. Drink your coffee slowly and peacefully. Catch those Zzzs hard. And be glad that's not your kid who is biting you on the shoulder while you board your plane. This is your time sister. Enjoy it.

xoxo Big Mama

P.S. I had a few gal pals message me asking where we got the robes we wore to get ready. They were a gift from the bride and I LOVE them! Thought they were so fun and different. Jenni told me they were from the new Anthropologie Bridal line, which I am now obsessed with. The patterns are different but here is a link to the robes they currently have. Anthro Bridesmaid Robe

Go to bed.

Bedtime. I don't know a single parent on the planet that actually enjoys this night time ritual. At 7:30 p.m., I am tired. My patience has reached the end of the line. I have picked up 345 toys, wiped bottoms, sang songs, and explained how rocks are made all day long. I have nothing left except an extreme desire to be in my pajamas watching the Real Housewives of New York reunion. And all of a sudden my 3 year old Brooks has more energy than 57 toddlers who have been fed Mountain Dew for 2 hours.



I would say that about 90% of nights, I climb into my bed after putting my kids to sleep and question if I cuddled them enough, read enough books, answered enough questions. I wish I could put them to bed at 7 a.m., when my patience is new, and not so worn. But the fact of the matter is, at 7:30 p.m., I just can't answer any more questions about why some days you have boogers and some days you don't. BECAUSE YOU JUST DO.



I have mastered the ability to slink out of bed undetected like an overweight sloth. I have kept my mouth shut even when I have stepped on a myriad of cars as I exit the room, and the pain is piercing through my foot. I have placed a pillow on top of my child's back to simulate a parent's arm. I have considered administering benedryl to an especially wound up child. I haven't done it, but gosh darn it I have been close. I have promised trips to the Dollar Store the next day and lollipops for breakfast. All in the name of going to gosh darn BED.



My kiddo has a wild imagination and I have no idea where he gets half the stuff he comes up with. I have been tracking some of the excuses for prolonging bedtime for awhile. The following are actual reasons my 3 year old has told me he can't go to bed/fall asleep/release me from parent prison.



1. A hammerhead shark has horrible headaches and he is worried that he might somehow get a horrible headache someday like a hammerhead shark.



2. The President of Africa might call him. Apparently they have a very serious situation in Africa regarding Emus. He won't expand. I am not curious. He must wait up for call.



3. He doesn't remember if he went pee pee in the potty all day. Seems to be stressing him out. Remind him of several times including a time when he almost fell in at Target. Begins to get more frustrated that I remember and he does not. Situation escalates.



4. His brother started to tell him a joke at dinner and he didn't get to finish it because I interrupted. His brother currently speaks 4 words, 5 if you count "du." None of these words are jokes.



5. There are witches in his closet making banana bread and the mixer is keeping him up. Also they are cackling, but he doesn't mind that so much.



6. He forgot to eat the last bite of cereal this morning. I explain that cereal has been thrown away and he will never be able to eat that last bite. This does not go over well. Up 40 more minutes.



7. He wants to know why Jesus wears a crown in some pictures and in some pictures he does not. Also, he wants to know why we can't go to Australia tomorrow. I tell him all I can offer is to read Where's Waldo. He accepts.



8. He tells me he has to fart but it won't come out. He asks me how many times a day I fart. I tell him mommies don't fart. He laughs. And says that lying is bad.



9. He can't fall asleep because my hair is in his face. At this time I am standing in the doorway. I ask him how my hair could be in his face if I am nowhere near him. He cries. Takes 30 more minutes to go to sleep.



10. He is upset and cannot fall asleep because he is not sure if he is good at "baskaballs." He is not good at basketball. Not today anyway.



11. He needs one more minute. 17,456 times.



12. He can't fall asleep because Zebras came into his room and spilled all his toys.



13. Dad is better at putting him to bed because boys have willies and they know how to go to bed. Why don't girls have willies?



14. He is worried about sharks in the ocean and how they go to the dentist and brush their teeth. He does accept the idea of an ocean dentist, and seems to begin to question everything I have ever told him. He is on to me.



So my fellow moms, go into your night time routines prepared. Load your arsenal of explanations, your last iotas of patience, and unload the last half hugs you have left in your body. Your children will come at you like spider monkeys with excuses why they can't just shut their GD eyes. You have to come back at them like spider monkey moms, wielding answers and discipline like you have been anticipating these questions since your birth. Don't look weak. They can smell that ya know. Your alone time is so very close, and your Breaking Bad series and chocolate doves are waiting for you.



Carry on warriors.

xoxo Big Mama