Refashion 201: Periwinkle Polyester Dream

This is a project that took all day, from about 9:45 a.m. when I settled on what I wanted to do, all the way til 7:30 p.m. when I sneaked back into my room after Oliver's bedtime to finish an accessory (AN ACCESSORY, I am so for real) to go with my project. The kids were so helpful, seriously. Not.  I'll try to hit the highlights as I blog the project.

First, a before. I could have put this one on, and in fact I did put it on in order to get a vision for a refashion. This is a bridesmaid dress from my BFF's wedding awhile back (I'm being kind by not doing the actual math, love you Susan!). I LOVE the periwinkle color, and I am a sucker for some flowy material. I still fit in it, which just continues to magnify my love for this piece. However, not something I am likely to throw on for church, so I have been thinking about how to get some more wear out of something so beautiful.

So, awkward. I don't actually have a photo of myself in my bridesmaid's dress from my best friend's wedding. Fortunately, she DOES have such a photo, seeing as how it was her wedding and all.

Hi, Ashley! Best maid and matron of honor ever, amiright? Do you see the fantastic asymmetrical neckline, one-shoulder design? Love this thing. This gem also has those long chiffony "wings" in the back, as seen in the next hacked-up photo:

 Chopped! I went in with my seam ripper the whole way around the bottom of the bodice, leaving me with this gorgeously shaped long skirt piece. There are three (THREE) polyester layers to this skirt because of course for my second ever refashioning project, I chose the most slipperiest and complicated garment in the closet. Thus, following my seam-ripping extravaganza, I had three raw, unconnected top edges that were only held together by the zipper. Yes, a zipper. Did I mention I picked myself a doozy of a project?

Cutest helper ever! If he's trying to measure his adorableness, it can't be done! Don't mind the sewing machine pedal and cord. Perfectly safe, I tell you. No babies were harmed in the making over of this dress.

Action shot of my vintage sewing machine (correctly threaded today!) making short work of those raw top edges.

 

Do you see the drape and flow of this material? Swoon. I would leave it this long if I weren't sure to break my neck hauling toddlers and babies up and down the stairs. 

I think it was at this point that yelling erupted from my young king and queen who were watching Cinderella in order to learn about how to be royal (parenting win). Mikayla was complaining, loudly and during Oliver's morning nap, that Isaac had turned off the movie. I dashed to help, and discovered that not only had he turned off the movie, but he had also used markers ALL over the living room hardwood floor. And both arms and cushions of the love seat. And when I restarted the movie, there was another little scribble on the TV screen. Seriously, you think you know a kid well enough to leave him alone for an hour and what does he do? I have never been so grateful for washable markers. And now you see why the ten-hour time frame for this little chop job.

Then I undertook the zipper. YOU GUYS, I shortened a zipper from the top! Cut the zipper to line up with the fabric, tuck it into the top seam on both sides, melt the top few (unused) teeth, and stitch a million times around to create a zipper stop. Ain't nothing to it! Except this is what I first ended up with:

 

That was some real good measuring there, folks. My method for that top seam was "I'll just fold it over about this much WHILE I run it through the sewing machine." That's unmerited arrogance if ever I saw it. The misalignment *probably* would have been ok, because you know what I plan to never wear this with? A belly shirt. Sweet heavens above no. But because I'm a perfectionist, and this was intended to be a learning project, I grabbed my handy seam ripper (which I do believe saw more action than the sewing machine on this project, bless). And I did get it to look just a wee bit better, with the encouragement of my cooing assistant.

My favorite part (which is not pictured because, well, read on) was trying to chop the length from the skirt. Picture me on my bedroom floor, meticulously aligning three slippery layers of polyester on my cutting mat, measuring and marking, rotary cutting - and all the while, Oliver is getting handsy with all of the things. So this step consisted of me straightening, flipping the baby away, smoothing, rolling the baby back over, making one fabric mark, rotating the baby toward his toys for the zillionth time. So much progress was made. It's a miracle the skirt has anything like a straight hem.

And the moment we've all been waiting for:

Ta da!! This might just be my Easter outfit, provided we don't still have five inches of snow on the ground trying to melt. It looks adorable with a white flowy cardigan - I took it off for the photo because it masked the true shape of the skirt just a bit.

And that matching scarf? Remember those long, flowy wings? Salvaged! I removed them from the back of the dress, ran a quick stitch to attach them to each other since they were already identical and the same width across - and I've got a lovely accessory to pull the outfit together. It's just a tad too long for my preference, so I might shorten it, but you get the idea.

I'm so tickled at how this turned out! This project definitely increased my confidence with a seam ripper and reconstructing a garment that already fit me. I'm looking forward to attempting this with a total fixer upper to see if my budding skills pass muster.

Refashion 101

I've been hording my old formal and semiformal dresses like they will come back into style my daughter will want to wear them someday. It's a lovely thought, and one that I'm sure my husband has appreciated as we are on our seventh residence in eight years of marriage. Full wardrobe box of momma's dead hopes and dreams? Check.

Except when I gave birth to my first daughter, these hopes and dreams received new life. Oh, it's been a long time coming, but she's finally four and interested in playing dress-up. And her momma has a thing about playing seamstress, so fueled with the best coffee in the world, I decided that today was The Day that eight years of lugging these dresses around would finally start to pay off.

Quick note on my sewing machine: It is an older machine gifted to me by my mom when they downsized last year. I've used it a couple of times now, but each time I have had to call her for some reason because it isn't working properly. Picture the two of us on the phone, her trying to remember using the thing (it's been awhile since she was regularly cranking out Halloween and school play costumes) and me trying to compare it to the portable model I had before, which is at least a couple decades newer in age. No, neither of us has the manual. Today I apparently couldn't thread it, despite having successfully done so several months ago. How many Grovers does it take to correctly thread an old Kenmore? Two, people. Two. And their iPhones.

So naturally I was looking for a "before" photo for each dress. It's not like I was going to put them on at this point, after all. You guys, I had to scroll so far down in my Facebook photos, I could practically smell their servers smoking as my page slowed and slowed. Suffice it to say, if the last time I wore these dresses was that long ago, the odds of me ever fitting into them, let alone looking age-appropriate, are slim to none (and Slim left town, as my dad would say). And here I was, in all my skinny, unmarried glory:

 Yeah, no full-length shot of this one. Sorry!

Happy (dating) anniversary to us! 

Let's just say I took the "va-va-voom" out of this one for my son (yes, my son) to wear for dress-up.

There's not too much to tell about the pink and white halter dress. I took in the back and stitched down the extra fabric instead of cutting it off, so that it can grow with her a bit as she gets bigger. And I took in the halter so as to hold the dress up appropriately. Oh, and stitched closed the bust so that it isn't hanging off of her awkwardly. Stay tuned for the "after" below.

The red dress, though, I am excited to show you. It is a really nice stretchy, clingy fabric (hey, why do you think I wore it for our anniversary?) and used to be a wrap-style dress with a silver ring closure, seen in the photo. My first step was to deconstruct it completely, to see what shape the actual fabric was.

This was better than I could have hoped for - vaguely cape-shaped already, and the halter style gave me ties for the neck. I just needed to remove the silver ring and then close up the seams. Also, I took in the center seam so that it wouldn't be SO big around his neck, and I stitched right up the outside edges to eliminate the ragged and irregular fabric that resulted from the deconstruction.

 Removing the ring, I had to cut through several layers of seams. Notice the poop on my thumbnail. Yup, poop. Not mine (that goes without saying, right?) I noticed it while texting Joel, obviously after I took this picture. Sigh.

 It got ugly, y'all.

But it was nothing a quick pass through my correctly-threaded sewing machine couldn't fix!

The headless seamstress models the almost-finished cape.

In the above photo, I hadn't taken in the center seam at all. You can see how wide it is; this would fit, well, around a grown woman's back. Once I took care of that, though, this little man was over the moon for his new Superman cape!

(Seeing it on him, I think I will go back and straighten the outside edges just a bit more. I thought the slight corner might be cool but it just flaps over his shoulder not as cool-ly as I had hoped.)

"Ok guys, look like a superhero and a princess!" 

She insisted I didn't need to shorten it because Cinderella's dress drags on the floor behind her, too.
Notice that Isaac's cape matches his Lightning The Queen socks.

I can't get over how the red dress made the PERFECT red cape, with the way it hangs and drapes and such. Also, I didn't try to do anything fancy, but I think the shape of his neckline turned out pretty cool for a cape. And I like the gathers in the back of her dress. They are caused by my stitching down the extra fabric on the inside - the dress is a sheerish layer over a white slip, so they didn't sew perfectly smoothly. Accidental ruching. I guess I'm kind of an amazing seamstress.

So, there you have it, my first refashion attempt! I have some pieces in my closet that I'd like to try to refashion, and I'd LOVE to do an all-out thrift store refashion from like a caftan or something. As a friend told me recently, though, the first step is just to get in there and try it. This was a confidence-building project, for sure, especially since I wasn't going to be too picky about the final product as dress-up clothes. My next project will either be to alter a clunky brown cardigan, or update an old formal gown for more casual wear. We shall see!

What projects have YOU been inspired to attempt lately? Does being stuck inside make you want to get creative, just to break the monotony?

Diastasis Gonzo

Looking at my blog, I'm realizing that the new background I picked looks an awful lot like the kitchen curtains I sewed at our old house. Obviously I like the pattern but it's a little weird.  To completely change the subject, I wrote a little while back about healing my diastasis recti. This is a little update on that, but without photos because ain't nobody want to see a mummy tummy if they don't have to.

I've been wearing this belly splint almost 24/7 for a couple of weeks now, with breaks to shower (so, like, I've taken it off about 3-4 times? bahaha) and once in awhile just because it fights with a jeans waistband like whoa. No problem when I'm at home in my yoga pants or jeggings, though! Fashion, comfort,  AND they accommodate your abdominal support garment, which is clearly legitimate medical equipment and not a medieval torture vanity device. Win, win, and win.

Anyway, I've gone from just over a two-finger diastasis down to barely a one-finger separation basically just from wearing the splint. It reminds me to engage my core while doing routine housework/toddler lifting/stair climbing ad nauseum, so maybe that's part of the reason. But I've fallen off the core workout bandwagon ever since I had my turn with a nasty stomach bug (my abdominal area was dead to me, people). I do think, though, that wearing the splint while sick helped keep my diastasis from getting worse due to the...muscle strain. Yeah, that.

So when I take off the splint, my tummy looks trimmer at least for a little while. I do still have some core strengthening to do in order to maintain, but there's no doubt that connective tissue is healing up.

By the way, when I say "belly splint", I don't mean anything fancy that I ordered off of diastasisrehab.com. No, this is a back brace wrap thingy I dug out of our hall closet and pulled the hard back support board out of it. It's slightly not the right size and rolls on the sides just a bit when my posture lacks. We are talking fancy times over here, not to mention the weird dirt stain across the front of it that I should probably wash but haven't yet. (What? It's not like I've suddenly become a paragon of cleanliness and possessor of oodles of time for extra housework since three paragraphs ago, people.)

All I'm saying is, if your tummy is like "What do you expect of me after growing and expelling THREE HUMANS IN THREE AND A HALF YEARS??" then maybe a splint/wrap is something you should consider. I actually really like how I feel when I'm wearing it, like my midsection isn't going to roll over and give up when I reach into the crib for the baby. My lower back appreciates it, too. (And just think, on a rough back day, I can put the lumbar support board back into my wrap! Double duty!)

Also, think about that whole "three humans in three and a half years" thing. Maybe instead of avoiding my tummy like an awkward ex, I should be buying it flowers and chocolates and ice cream because that is amazing. Oh wait, that is exactly what I usually do...#partoftheproblem

Oh, and I tagged this under "workout diary" just because I feel like that label is getting a little lonely and gathering dust. Bless. In my defense, I did use the word "workout". Gotta run, the baby is eating paper again!

Chef Pablo

Sorry for the blogging silence, y'all, it's been quite a month around here. Lots of health issues with the kiddos and weather and I only just started drinking coffee last week because....? But my hubby's home-roast has newly empowered me to do ALL THE THINGS, so here I am!

The lunch dishes are even in the dishwasher and it's only 12:52. BEHOLD the glory of java.

The 2:00 p.m. crash is real though, as I've discovered. My kids giving up naps has come at a really inconvenient time. But I digress.

Mikayla announced at breakfast that she wants to be a waitress when she goes up, and Isaac declared that he will be a chef. I told them that they could open a restaurant together, and their eyes lit up.  I asked what they would serve at their restaurant, and Mikayla said, "I will just give everyone their menu!" My further inquiry yielded some real gems. For you, dear reader, a sneak preview of the menu at "Chef Pablo".

Spaghetti and meatballs
Ice cream
Grilled cheese
Gummi bears with decoration ice cream (??)
Coffee

And that's it. Clearly, their priorities are in order. Mikayla says she wants me to write, "Chef, make all of the food!" Isaac, better remember your place.

Also, if you are looking for an investment opportunity, this is shaping up to be the young, hip Friendly's of the 2020's. With decoration ice cream!

Blanket of Snow, Blanket of Cheese

Today, I made a very important discovery. Which was not so much a discovery as a finally getting around to doing something quite obvious. It's because of the snow. A blizzard basically requires hibernation-eating, which for me involves fat, calories, and probably loads of dairy. Those new yoga pants and jeggings notwithstanding.

My favorite combination of fat, calories, and loads of dairy is probably ice cream. But, #Blizzard2015. If there's one thing that looking out the window at the beginning of snowmageddon makes me not want to be, it's cold.

My second favorite dairy food is Tostitos medium salsa con queso. I've never counted the ingredients nor tried to pronounce them because denial is the best medicine. But last night I made a bold move. I bought tortilla chips and no queso. BOLD, I'm telling you. This is the stuff of going out in the middle of the snowpocalypse in northern New Jersey to get queso because I MUST EAT THE CHIPS.

However, it occurred to me that I make cheese sauce pretty often. For, you know, mac 'n cheese, loaded potatoes for dinner, tuna casserole, the list goes on. It's basically its own food group with the under-four crowd. Sooooooo why wouldn't it taste delicious on my nachos?

Well, my cheese sauce looks like this today because I'm a mom and, for at least 3/4 of the time I should have been stirring it, I was instead running around putting food in mouths and wiping peanut butter off of fingers and generally trying to decrease the decibel level. But it is still two things: warm and cheesy. Who doesn't like things that are warm and cheesy?

 Also, I am no dummie, and if there's one thing I've learned from Pinterest and Instagram it's to make sure your cozy fireplace is in the background of your "oh I just randomly snapped this photo" photo. So despite the lumpy cheese sauce, I am doing something right today.

By the way, nachos slide around on a plastic plate like a toddler off of a public restroom seat. This entire plate of queso almost landed in my lap as I photographed it, but for my cat-like reflexes. SAVE THE CHEESE. And the yoga pants.

So this is me, pretending all of my children are sleeping while I devour enough nachos and cheese to get me through the long, cold winter.

What are you eating doing today to keep you warm?

Field Trip to the Pburg Mall

I wrote a bit yesterday about combatting the loneliness of motherhood by, well, writing. This morning, a new idea occurred to me, prompted by my fear of my son actually, literally putting a hole through a wall with his zeal for running.

He even winds up like a real cartoon superhero:

I realized that I had to get these kids out of the house if it killed me. But it's cold, it's winter, and it's not worth paying actual money to go do something they may or may not lose interest in after a minute and a half. What's a good free, low-risk-of-injury-or-destruction activity for kids in the winter? Your local shopping mall! (Note: Not an outlet mall. Those are usually outside and it's your own dumb fault if you rope yourself into herding small children at one of those.) Bonus points if it's a really sad, empty mall because 1) fewer obstacles (people) and 2) fewer temptations (stores for shopping).

We happen to have just such a sad, empty mall not too far away, so I promised the kids a "field trip" when the baby woke up. Coolest mom-teacher ever, planning a spontaneous field trip to a place where there is NOTHING THERE, right?

Of course, said baby took an almost two hour nap, pushing this into a hope-we-can-squeak-it-in-before-lunchtime trip, but you won't hear me complain about him sleeping longer than 45 minutes.

I said it was a sad, empty mall, but there just happens to be a little something for everyone in my entourage: Claire's for Mikayla, a sports-related store for Isaac, and (drum roll, please) an H&M for Momma! I totally shopped the clearance rack and found a long, red tunic sweater to go over the pajama jeans that I bought at the grocery store last night. Don't judge. If I had KNOWN I was going to an actual mall today with actual stores, I might not have sprung for the jeggings next to the frozen potato products.

Watch for a selfie of me in my jeggings and neat-o $7 H&M clearance sweater, possibly also wearing a snazzy long pearl necklace that technically belongs to my kids for dress-up but I'm thinking would look kind of stylish with this outfit...

The judging, people. STOP IT.

What was I saying? Right. So. Armed with animal crackers and with the baby in a disposable diaper for the sole reason that it could theoretically absorb the Delaware River without needing to be changed while we are out using public facilities, we hit the mall.

In Mikayla's words (in said public restroom facility, no less), "I LOVE THIS!!"

Have I mentioned we don't get out much?

I confess, I loved it too, because it was like cherry picking for adult conversation. Oh, a sweet looking salesgirl in Claire's, let's pop on in. "Hi, do you still pierce ears here?" (Of course they do, and of course I have no intention of impulse-piercing my four year old's ears. That'll be the day that I sign up for nonstop commentary about how they hurt and I don't want holes in my ears anymore and I'll secretly take them out and lose one in the toilet, etc. etc.) Commence lovely chat. "Oh, looks like we need to run to the restroom! Have a great day!" Aaaaand easy out before I have to commit to anything masochistic.

Also? The best game ever = momma walking leisurely with the stroller, in a big empty place, lobbing animal crackers and calling out things like, "Who can find a RED SIGN first? A red sign, GO!" And let the kids just run and hide and touch all the dirty things because I plan to set up a portable disinfecting station at the minivan door as we load up.

The fact that there is a Chick-Fil-Aze RIGHT OUTSIDE the mall had nothing to do with my decision to press onward even though we left the house at 11:25. Or everything. Actually, it wasn't even my fault that we stopped there for lunch. No, they didn't commandeer the vehicle and Little Rascal it into the CFA drive-thru. But close.

We pulled up to the light outside the mall, and I cheerfully announced, "Hey guys, we're just about there!" Mikayla casually asked, "Hey mommy, where are we eating lunch today?" Uh huh. I bet this has nothing to do with that renst-raunt right there. "Oh, we'll head home to eat after we run around for a while." "No, mommy, I want to eat at Chick-Fil-Aze after our field trip!!" Ooooooh, there's a CFA around here? Who knew?

We still weren't going to eat there, but as we all trooped out to the van at 12:17 (mind you, a dishwasher repair guy is coming to our house as early as 1:00, except he is still not here now at 4:37 but who's counting) Isaac was seized with the posture and worried look of someone who really has to go. Yes, despite having been in the mall restroom not 15 minutes before. It's tough having a bladder the size of a walnut. Anyway, that CFA suddenly appeared as a beacon of hope and relief and I said, ok, that is where we are headed.

Which, if they secretly planned this together as an elaborate ploy to get nuggets and CFA milk (more delicious through a straw than plain old home milk), then well played, guys, well played.

Of course, as soon as they were home they devoured the fruit cup and declared that they didn't like chicken. The milk was kindly shared until it spilled on the table and was wiped furiously with a kleenex instead of telling momma. Overall, I'd call it a raging success of a field trip, wouldn't you?

I will be doing this again soon, trust. It was awesome. Although I hope this doesn't catch on TOO much with other moms, because I don't want to accidentally bring back the heyday of the mall and ruin the experience for myself with all those people everywhere.

On Charging Something Other Than My Phone

I don't know about you other mommas out there, but recently I've been starting to lose myself, I think. One writer referred to it as "disappearing into the peanut butter". If I could remember where I read that, I'd share it in a heartbeat, because it was one of a number of mommy articles that really resonated with me. Despite providing zero opportunities for ever being alone, motherhood can be profoundly lonely at times.

And I say that as someone with a GREAT support network, a moms' group at church, local family, and non-local family who love and pray for me regularly. Also a pretty stellar husband who knows from the tone of my voice on our end-of-the-day phone call whether it's a "mommy needs to go lock a door and hide for twenty minutes" kind of day.

I think that's the main reason why I've come back to blogging more. I LOVE to write. And writing has the double benefit of clearing out the gunk in my mind, and helping me feel like I'm connecting with others who might read, comment, resonate with the experience. It's impossible (or at least much more difficult) to feel invisible and isolated when you're putting something out there.

Today's is-anyone-else-out-there? post is on postnatal fitness - er, realizing I'd like to recognize my midsection again. You guys, I carry torpedo babies. My transverse abdominus is all like, you want me to transverse WHAT? And then it throws up its hands in defeat and retreats to eating ice cream in front of HGTV. No wait, that was me. But seriously, how is this even possible?

Oliver would enter the room a solid minute before the rest of me at the very end.

My midwife even laughed at my six-week postpartum visit as she checked my tummy. She said she had NEVER felt a diastasis as wide as mine. I think she was exaggerating, because it's like maybe a two-finger separation, but still, that'll make a girl feel foxy and cute. (Before you think my midwife was a total ogre bent on triggering postpartum depression, she did compliment my ankles.)  All that to say, diastasis rectus definitely wrecked us. And while I've lost almost all of the baby weight, when Isaac pokes my middle and exclaims, "Squishy!" something's gotta give. Other than my mummy tummy under the duress of a two year old pointer finger.

So I've been bookmarking websites about healing diastasis, and yoga for lower back pain, and postpartum core exercises, because the first step to physical fitness is having the browser history to back it up. Then, yesterday, I figured out how to pair my phone with our Amazon Fire Stick. (It plugs into the TV and allows us to stream Amazon Prime, Netflix if we had an account, YouTube, and numerous other apps. We can also instantly back up our photos and videos from phone to the cloud and see them on our TV.) Now, I can search YouTube workout videos on my phone or laptop, favorite them in my Google/YouTube account, and they are there to play when I turn on the TV. Gone: my excuses for not getting my body moving.

Well, yesterday and today instead of letting the kids watch Creative Galaxy, I played a beginner's yoga session and then a postpartum core video, #1 in a 5 part series, and I even added (two child-shaped) weights for resistance. In other words, I served as a jungle gym for my children as  I struggled to hear directions over their chatter and/or see the instructor clearly over or under my glasses as I very gracefully accomplished each pose. I had some very Urkel squinty moments, y'all. Drop your head and relax, but still watch my every move so that you maintain your peaceful center without falling over. Yup. Maybe next time.

Today was day two, so clearly I have earned my Beginner Yogi badge and should order the $70 yoga mat I have my eye on.

But seriously, I can't believe how relaxing the yoga is! I felt a connection to and awareness of my body that I hadn't felt in a looooong time and you guys, it wasn't awful. For someone who only runs when in danger of being devoured, that's saying something. This body can still be good to me, if I decide to be good to it. The (potentially) graceful movements was no-impact on my joints, which for me is important, and I can tell yoga will indeed help me to strengthen and tone very, very gently.

The postpartum core workout lady was like my soul mate. She got me. She encouraged me to go slowly and assured me that I can build up to the other workouts. It was like...she knew me, or maybe just a thousand other women who have also carried and pushed babies out of their woman parts.

I'm feeling fit(ter...let's be realistic), I'm feeling more centered, I'm feeling more like an actual, feminine person instead of a frumpy servant who exists to manage the two extremes of her children's digestive tract. I've regained a sense of respect for my body, which I've been pretty down on lately - stupid tummy, weak back. Hey, my body birthed three humans, and is still able to practice yoga and jump in on some core reconditioning. Don't get me wrong, I'm not about to ramp up to any serious cardio or anything. My frequency of showering will not support any degree of sweat, trust. But...hey body, I guess we can be friends.

p.s. I still dislike the words "exercise" and "work out" because they make me think of sweat and pain and having to carve out a large chunk of my day. I prefer "get moving", "connect with my body", "have some mommy time", etc. Doesn't that sound less intimidating and more relaxing? It helps me remember how I will actually feel during and after: GREAT!!

Oh, and I'm also feeling super tech-y because did you catch the part where I paired my iPhone with my Fire Stick and can sync up my YouTube playlist? Yup. That was me. Look out, I can control the world with the push of a button!

It's great to be taking more control of my day, and having it not be totally kid-centered. The littles are seeing me value health and my body, and I invite them to join whenever they want (two minutes max so far, but it's a start). I've also been trying (with slow success) to read more, my Bible and my moms' group book (Housewife Theologian, SO GOOD and not just for housewives), though this post isn't primarily about that. By putting a little more focus on me - my physical and spiritual health - my kids are going to benefit so much, even if it's just a better mood from mommy as I reclaim my identity a bit. I don't think I realized just how long I've put all of my priorities on the back burner for the sake of being the wife and mom I think I need to be.

That's not to say I'm embarking on some great self-rediscovery that will culminate in me burning my nursing bras and calling home to tell my husband he better order Chinese again. But balancing myself, re-prioritizing, so that my relationship with God, myself, and my husband are in order, has the added benefit of refilling my mommy bucket as well.

p.p.s. to dispel the Super Mommy myth that might be formulating in your imagination, my big kids played legos, mostly peacefully, and the baby slept part of the time and later did this to my living room:

(That's not as bad as I thought it was in real life. This just looks like a few scattered socks, shoes, and books, nothing a good foot-rake won't clear up in a jiffy. Sweet.)

How about you? What recharges your battery and allows you to approach your responsibilities and "must-dos", as well as the people in your life, with greater love and joy?