I started yoga as a physical education class in college. I thought it was so hip and new yorkish to say yoga counted as credit! I fell asleep at the end of every class surprisingly learned more there than any of my other gen. ed classes.

I practiced on and off for the last ten years, but never seriously and definitely not consistently, however my friend Heather has been an inspiration. She has grown significantly in the past year andi LOVE stalking her intagram for poses to copy and try. Tonight I vaguely was able to do this pose, but it was still fun to attempt. Plus with my post 2 baby belly and gusset crotch, it’s real sexy up in hurrr. (Jk) thanks to my cousin Sierra for snapping this pic. I think if I could do yoga solely of poses instead of all the translations I would enjoy it more, buuutttttt whatever. At least I’m still sorta flexible??? Here’s to more practice in 2015. image



Tell me I’m not the only creep that lays awake at night and watches my babies sleep. It’s like they are off schedule all day, ones fussy while the other is whining, one snoozes while the other terrorizes the house, you put one thing away for them to take fifty out and you’re exhausted and frustrated and then they both fall asleep holding hands and you want to cry because your heart is bursting. Kids man, they can really fuck you up. And I say that with the happiest smile on my face. image

Sick day

My poor baby has had a horrible cold the past few days and it has been awful. The kind that makes you wanna cry because they look so miserable. We are usually a go go go type of family, but to heal up quick we laid around and watched movies all day. I’m so happy my dad and cousin are in town and super easy going so we were able to lay low. Wyatt basically drank only pedialyte and chicken broth and refused to eat. His fever spiked to 102 in the middle of the night so we came downstairs and cuddled up with a popsicle by the fireplace and watched some mindless TV. He started to feel better today, his cough isn’t every five minutes and his nose isn’t nearly as runny and he’s back to his regular smiley happy self. It’s hard to remember to stay put when one of your family members isn’t feeling well, but it cuts the sick time down in half. I hope none of us get sick for awhile, but if we do, I’ll have to be patient with myself and rest up. Mamas don’t have time to be sick!

Even when he’s so sick he still musters a kiss


This year…

image image imageWoah. Is it 2015 already?? Forget the holidays lets jump right into the new year! Everything feels like a blur and I don’t know if that is a good thing or a bad thing. I’m just trying to roll with it. I saw my best friend for one hour on my trip to LA and I was both heartbroken but completely and dizzily happy at the same time. That about sums up 2014. Mara Lake was my single shining trophy of 2014 and that one hour with Kat.

Now. Now I am ready for the games to begin. Or my time to come. Or “THIS IS MY YEAR!!!” Any of those overused, but perfectly adept sayings will do. I’m serious though. It feels legit.

One major thing I want to do this year is keep my nails painted. Or at least try to. Painting my nails absurdly stresses me out, I’m always worried I won’t like the color I picked, or it’s going to chip super fast or that I am going to die and everyone will judge me for painting my nails lavender when the cool color to paint your nails is red. I don’t know how or when this stress started, but it’s made me almost completely stop painting my nails and I hate it. Random I know, but let’s just take baby steps here!

And I’m sure it goes without saying, but ALOT more expeditions and adventures with the kids this year. Even if I have to go it alone. The Teton crest trail is calling our names


How to travel with kids.

Just do it.

Buffalo Gals

I have realized lately that I am beyond lucky. I am watching my all time Christmas fave “It’s a Wonderful Life” and gosh it stirs up a lot of emotions. All of the feels, as they say. I have friends. I. Have. Friends. As lame as that may sound, it’s true. These are people that CHOOSE to be friends with me. They choose to be in my life. They don’t have to be, they’re not family, they have no ties stronger than the ones that bind us together laughing and giggling late into the night, or that moment when you see something that reminds you of them and you just can’t wait to show them, or that they would drop anything for you just to help you out without needing anything reciprocated.

I am in love with these people. Truly. I love them so much and place them on the highest pedestals that love can buy. I never speak an ugly word about them, I can’t even think of one, these are the most magnificent people on the face of the Earth. These are MY people. MINE. And once I realized how lucky I was to have them, I quickly understood that there was no wrong that they could ever do in my eyes. People fight with their friends and have all these tumultuous relationships, but my friendships are the most loving, strong and solid relationships I’ve ever known, how could I bash them in even the slightest way.

These people don’t have to be here, yet they are, day after day, year after year. I love them and they love me. Is there anything else more important than that? Happy Holidays everyone, hope you can swallow the moon, and let it shoot out of you just like Mary and I.

Polar bear love

Recently I bought a bright cobalt blue wool coat with giant polar bears all over it. I fell in love with it the second I saw it. It’s huge and norwegian vintage, it’s basically my soul coat. Anyways, I’ve realized that I need to start surrounding myself with things I love and be my genuine self.

You know when you see someone that is just one hundred percent themselves? No question about it? Well lately I’ve gotten away from myself, even though I have to admit it is very hard to even remember yourself when you have babies, but I want to find the new me, me as a mom, me as a woman, me as me. I digress, so I bought a giant panda coat and every time I wear it I am so happy. When I dress for myself is when I feel truly genuine. And I think that is important.

I have been super harsh with my wardrobe lately. If I haven’t worn something in a year, I donate it. Just get rid of it. I have a pajama draw full of t-shirts I”ve collected over the years and for some reason they have some hold over me and I’m sick of it. I don’t even wear them, I just feel like I have to keep them for some guilty reason. I don’t like that an inanimate object can have that negative hold over me.  I also have a tendency to think because something was expensive I should definitely keep it, but if it’s expensive, but just sits there, what is the point? I do however, like when clothes have a positive effect on me. Like when I go through my closet in the morning and I can’t make a wrong choice because I love everything.

Having kids has made me take a long hard look at what really matters to me. And don’t get me wrong, I LOVE clothes, and shoes and make up and perfume and bags, but I don’t like hoarding things from the past that I USED to like. I have grown in more ways than one (I hate squeezing into clothes and with still losing baby weight I just bought new jeans a size up, IF I get back down to a size 24 like I used to be, I’ll toss my size 26’s and buy new jeans, but I don’t need 24’s sitting there just wilting away while my body changes) I don’t have time to feel uncomfortable in my clothes, I don’t have time to rifle through my closet every morning just to hate all my things, I want to be surrounded by things I love. Life is so much easier without all the nonsense.  I like a life of minimalism. I like knowing that everything has a spot. I like that we have too many hangers and not the other way around.

So, for about the past six months I have only bought things I thought would be functional and that have literally brought a smile to my face. Tim makes fun of me because I have a value algorithm I do when trying to justify purchases. If something cost a hundred dollars but I know I’ll wear it at least a hundred times then it costs a dollar a day! As I’m writing this I realize how silly it sounds, but it really helps me justify purchases and take pride in the clothing I do spend a decent amount of money on.

And now I will stop rambling and just wear my polar bear coat around the house and feel awesome. I suggest you do the same.

IMG_3746++ Thanks Kat for catching my error. I totally meant polar bears, not panda bears as is evidenced by the picture!

Why I’m a fan of epidurals AND co-sleeping

You may think those two concepts are on the opposite ends of the “good mama, bad mama” spectrum, but for me they are right in the middle. I have had two VERY different birthing experiences, Wyatt was delivered naturally with a midwife, Mara was delivered in the hospital with an epidural and I can honestly tell you that Mara’s birth was far superior than Wyatts.

I had all of these ideas in my head that delivering naturally was so wonderful and good for the baby and you have an immediate bond and you heal faster. None of these things held true for me. I was told that I would feel so powerful and really, learning how to drive a manual car when I was 20 was more empowering to me. Also, with Wyatt, we kept him in a bassinet next to the bed for the first 6 months of his life, until I was so sick of having to physically get up and get him into bed with me multiple times a night to breastfeed him. We were also reprimanded on several occasions for letting him sleep on his stomach, but this kid would not under any circumstances sleep on his back. So, finally one night he slept with us and you know what, he slept right through the night, didn’t wake up once. It was miraculous for all of us. I woke up during the night just to make sure I wasn’t dreaming that he was sleeping so well. Not to say every night was a dream, but learning to breastfeed while lying down was the only time I really felt comfortable doing it.

Now with Mara, I had an awful pregnancy with her and was in so much pain from all of the prodromal labor I was in that I was practically begging for an epidural. She came fast and furious, Tim didn’t even make it in time for her arrival! And the second I had her in my arms I felt a connection with her that took me much longer to feel with Wyatt. I think I was in so much pain during and after his delivery that I couldn’t possibly fathom thinking about anything else, but how horrible my body felt. It may sound selfish and I’ve never heard anyone talk as openly about it as I do, but trust me, I’m not the only one.

And Mara has been in bed with us since day one. I sleep better, she sleeps better, it’s much easier on me. I am way less tired than I was when Wyatt was born. His first three months were especially difficult for me, but now, Mara’s first three months have flown by with maybe 2 or 3 rough nights.

What I’ve learned from all of this, is there is no really “right” way to be a parent. There is no “better” way. Even though everyone will tell you there is. I was considering becoming a lactation consultant, but I feel like I’d be bad at it because if the baby wasn’t latching properly and both baby and mother were miserable, I would honestly tell them to switch to formula. Formula is not bad, but for some reason people think its the worst thing to give your child! I just can’t imagine preferring a distraught mother and a hungry baby to both parties being content even if she feeds her baby from a bottle and not her breast. Whatever is best for you and your baby, do it. If your baby likes to sleep in his crib, let him do it, if you prefer to take baths with your kids instead of giving multiple baths, do it, just do what works for you. People judge so harshly, but know deep down, that you do know what is best for your family.

Sorry, this is so ranty, but I’m so fed up with everyone saying what is right and wrong, or assuming if you follow one parenting method, you have to follow all of them. I’m starting out November trying to be more patient with myself and having a little more grace in my day to day.



Tim has been gone in China for a week now, my mom left yesterday, today is Wyatt’s half birthday and I feel so alone.

I let my little man take his nap in my arms today. He fell asleep while I was holding him and I didn’t have the heart to put him down. I don’t mind, I’ll hold him as long as he let’s me.

Im watching American Horror Story Freakshow and I’m obsessed. These shows are so good, weird, but good.

Last night I did a quick little workout that I found via Pinterest. I lost all my baby weight two weeks after Mara was imageborn, I just have to tone up. I’ve been running but it’s not enough. I realize that I just need a list of what to do and just go at it in front of the tv or while the kids are sleeping. I think it’s a good start and I loved breaking a sweat.

I also have kind of started my kids label Lazarus. Drop crotch leggings and little rompers. I always hated when babies leggings went to one side of their diapers, it looks so uncomfortable. So I started making pants for Wyatt and then Mara and with the encouragement of my best friend and decided to see if anyone wanted to buy them. I had a great response, so I’ll start sewing tonight. I hope to have ten pairs done by this weekend.

I guess this was just a little catch up, but it feels good to check in.


Latest tattoo. I’m not sure why I never documented my constellation tattoo’s, but on the backs of my arms I have ursa major and minor, popularly known as the big dipper and the little dipper. Those are my tattoo’s for Wyatt. I haven’t yet figured out what tattoo I’ll get for Mara, but this golden one has been on my mind for awhile. This is my 14th tattoo. Horse, Rosa, 13, spool of thread, horse shoe, I understand, big dipper, little dipper, scissors, feather, flying heart, compass, and lastly golden. I love that they all have special meanings to me and are completely meaningless to others.