Experiment #14: Dry Hand Help, i.e. I really can't do it myself

Sad. So so very sad.

I started typing my blog address into the browser and my computer didn't even recognize my own blog domain. 

Maybe pathetic is a better word.

After nearly two years of treading water, I feel like I finally reached the part of the pool where I can just barely touch the bottom with the tips of my toes. A bit of a respite. Not much, but enough. While I am very glad we chose the spacing of our children the way we did, lately, there have been many days where I have screamed, "Three kids in four years?! What were we thinking?!"

While my last year has been blog-silent, it has been an incredibly crazy, busy, fun, intense, exhausting, exciting, cathartic and agonizingly wonderful year. The girls are so fun. And so irritating. And so loving. And so screamy angry.

And now it's the coldest (snowiest?) winter in 20 years. Sigh.

I actually love winter. I love snow. I even love the cold, crisp, fresh air that takes your breath away. But not when I'm trying to bundle up and keep an infant warm. Thank you, God, that this year was NOT when I had an infant. It may take 45 minutes to get everyone bundled, but this year we can actually stay outside for at least 45 minutes!

Living through a Microscope: Experiment #11 - Delicious bits of simple energy (Homemade Larabars & Energy Bites)

Butterfly Bush Flower

If you had asked me a few nights ago (or about a month ago) if I loved having kids, I may have thrown something sharp and heavy in the general direction of your head. Or something wiggly and squishy. Something that looked like a toddler. A toddler who woke up every 90 minutes screaming for her “taggie” that was hiding somewhere in the midst of the chaos that is our house.

But, on most days, I will be able to answer without the use of projectiles. Sure, as I sit in the bathroom with four fists pounding on the door and 2 squeaky voices screaming, “Mama! Mama! Mama!” I wish I could be like Tracy Jordan in 30 Rock and have a standing semiweekly hotel reservation for one hour to be able “to poop in peace!” Sure, it’s frustrating that 8 of my waking hours are spent sitting on the bathroom floor waiting for someone to poop, wiping someone’s poop or spraying someone’s poop off a diaper. Sure, it would be nice if the only poop I had to wipe was my own.  (Can you tell that Madeline is potty training and my world seems full of poop?)

Experiment #8: The Pit(s) of Despair (Homemade Deodorant)

My very own homemade deodorant (in a Tom's container)!

So, I was going to post on my recently awesome success with making homemade yogurt, but as I continue to receive an ever growing number of requests to share my homemade deodorant recipe, I thought I'd start the New Year out with a bang (or blast)...of sweet smelling Kristin pits.

The story begins in the summer. Back when it was hot and I was very, very sweaty. So I have peppered this post with pictures from warmer times (rather than pictures of my sweaty pits). 

Thanks to Nick for several of these pictures.

The Pit(s) of Despair
I LOVE The Princess Bride. As I was constructing my post in my head while rocking Madeline to sleep last night, I was thinking about how funny the word "pit" sounded to use as a term for underneath the arms, and the scene in the Pit of Despair from The Princess Bride popped into my head. I thought it was an apt analogy for my own journey from despair to pit bliss.