life at the daily grind

 Life has changed since I started this blog. It has been nearly six years, I think. My husband and I have added 3 pets to the family, 2 sons, and have lived in 4 different homes in 3 different states. Over the past couple years, starting when we moved into our previous home, I started experiencing more anxiety over what is usually considered mundane. I started examining things that may have influenced things and triggered responses from life events and childhood. I've started examining the views I had been taught from an early age surrounding religion and politics and how you should raise a child. Are these really my views and values or have I just been regurgitating what I had been fed and told not to question because this was the "right" way?  As life has changed, as it is supposed to, I feel like it's time to shift this blog's perspective, too. It may be updated the same amount, which is laughable, but I have decided that it should be a reflection of the though

My day started like most others. We all got up. My husband left for work, it was his duty day so it would be just me and the kids until the next morning.  By noon we had faced numerous meltdowns, and not just the children.  At least seven separate occasions arose throughout the morning. I asked for help with little things, like Please pick up your toys. Put your dishes in the sink. Don't jump when you're eating. Stop hitting your brother. Stop jumping off the couch. Along with the usual DON'T DO THAT! Each time I would ask kindly, gently, peacefully. Each time I was ignored as the children continued to run around screaming and giggling and ignoring. Until finally I would break. Yelling and growling in frustration, implementing time outs, and taking away toys. Each time I was met with wide eyes and arguments. Wondering why is she so mad? Why is she overreacting? Why is she being so unreasonable? And I sit there wishing I could somehow explain that maybe, if they had list

Ok, so I know it's not Monday, but it's been a while since #mugmonday happened around here.  I can't remember if I've shared this mug already, but the weather is giving me wicked New England vibes, and this mug conjures up such visions as well. I can't use this mug without remembering walking down old, old streets of a fishing village on the Massachusetts coast. Like Rockport, but I'm not sure if that's where it was. Like today, fog hung thick in the air, casting a mysteriousness over everything.  My family had driven the couple of hours to visit my brother for the day. He went to college up in Wenham, MA and it was always a treat to see him.  I remember wandering into a little shop called the Wicked Peacock and purchasing a small piece of jewelry, though I can't for the life of me me remember what it might've been now. Down an alley there was a little art shop, and next to it was an open faced studio filled floor to ceiling w

It's that time of year. The time when I open up this blog and realize that a whole year has passed without a single post!  So, if my toddler naps long enough, perhaps I can bang out a post about what my little family has been up to in the last 12 months. The start of 2019 was rough on the Logans of NJ. Our Oldest son, Theodore, carried a cold with him into the new year. One of those lovely childhood diseases that are all the rage, Rosalea. And when he's sick, he is S I C K.  Along with that there was the matter of the government shutdown which caused us to pinch pennies more than usual so we could afford to pay our bills and buy our groceries. We were not able to buy T any birthday presents because of it, but thankfully our own parents stepped in and threw him a wonderful little party to celebrate turning 2. We experienced what a supportive community we live in, and also got to reconnect with a coast guard friend who was passing through the area. This year Mr. T not only cel

So real quick. Postpartum and healing. This is something that's been on my mind a lot lately since I just had a baby and quite a few of my friends have too or are about to. . Recently we were home for Thanksgiving. A friend of mine just gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, her first. We had a wonderful visit with her sweet, new little family. When we got back to where we were staying that evening, someone asked me how she was doing and if she was all "healed".  I said she was doing really great, and really happy, but as to the second question I looked to the asker in confusion. What do you mean by "healed"? Physically. They wanted to know if physically she had made a complete recovery. I'm pretty sure my face hid none of my unamused glare. First of all, 5 days postpartum you're still walking like you just had a baby... because you did. Second of all, that's no one's business. I used this moment to educate the men in the room about wha

It's always a great day when you start the morning off with vomiting up an empty stomach. Even better when it's out of the blue, into your kitchen sink full of last night's dishes, while your 15 month old looks on in confusion and concern. I thought I knew what tired was before I got pregnant. I thought I knew what exhaustion was while I was carrying my son. And after he was born I was sure I had become an expert on living a life with little to no sleep. As it turns out I was wrong on all accounts. Tired is a relative and ever changing term. Our lives are in another phase of change. After some ups and downs and long, long wait we finally got word that this coming transfer season will bring us a little closer to home. The good ol' USCG will be moving us to yet another vacation destination, Cape May, NJ, where we will only be about 5 hours from family instead of the 12+ that it takes us to get there now. This news comes with a side of relief, as my current definit