kids' cubby storage

I wrote earlier about being excited for the new project Jared has been working on. 
Well, it's finished. 
And has been for like three weeks.
And while there are still photos to hang, I am unveiling it.
It might seem ridiculous how excited I am for some organization around here, but it is the little things in life, my friends.

Jared got the plans from a website he really likes to use: 

Ana-White.com

Her plans are free, and this woman builds everything. 
You can search for specific project plans on her site, and also a helpful feature, other people submit photos and reviews of their projects which they finished using her plans. It's a pretty useful tool for anyone who has a particular project in mind (and the skill that goes with it). Quite a few of her children's projects are copy-cat versions of popular stores, such as Pottery Barn.

The cubby was modeled after the Pottery Barn Cameron 2 Cubby & 2 Base version, which is currently selling for $629 on sale right now, not including the $60 for shipping.

Jared was able to buy all the wood, plus paint and miscellaneous supplies for just $150.

He spent part of two afternoons working to complete the project, and then a little bit more time giving it a few coats of paint. 

So without further ado, here is our version.

It is configured of two separate units so that they can be used together or separated later between kids' rooms. 

The base is large and works great to stash away all the bigger items: tractors and school buses and Batman mobiles and Barbie cars that take up so much room in a traditional toy box.

It took a while for me to decide what boxes/bins I wanted to use. I wanted them to be functional and sturdy. 
I also didn't want to break the bank. 
The baskets that are so cutely displayed on the Pottery Barn website for this cubby storage system are priced at $35 per basket, not including the personalized liners which start at $18. Too rich for my blood.

So we finally found four of these bins at Target, and ordered the rest from Target online. 
(Free shipping plus 5% off - Gotta love my RedCard!)
They still weren't cheap (definitely no 35 bucks a bin though!) but I like how purposeful they seem. They have pop-out dividers which have actually proved useful. The girls like to separate their tea set from the rest of their kitchen utensils and keep their Little People separate from their Barbies in the bins. 
(We are raising such organized individuals... ha!)

I wasn't sold on the colors originally, but since placing them in the house, I have come to like them. They are neutral and with all the toys scattered around, there is a lot of color in the room as it is. I was worried about protecting them from the kids' grimy hands - flashes of peanut butter hand prints specifically - so I coated each bin with a few layers of Scotchgard fabric protector. I am hopeful that will help them last much longer than they would have without.

The plan is to hang our two family pictures above the storage unit, along one of these signs Jared makes for his Etsy shop, but has yet to make for his own wifey. 
*hint hint, Jared*

I am very happy with how the project turned out. 
Our room that really isn't a true toy room is now much less of a cluster. 
Plus it seems like they actually play with their toys now. Playing kitchen is way easier when they can grab the two bins containing food and kitchen utensils and get started. No digging through a disorganized, over-full toy box. Less toy tossing chaos.
Plus Mama just really loves feeling organized.

the Friday 5

1.
So this is probably gonna sound very un-American-ish, but the winter Olympics in Sochi are underway... and I just can't bring myself to give a crap.

The summer games in London? 
We were all about them. We watched the opening ceremonies, recorded hours of coverage during the day, discussed the results... 
Honestly, this time around I will probably watch an hour or two at most, and probably while painting my nails or talking on the phone. 

I mean, yay! for the athletes, but I am just not that in to snow, let alone snow sports. So U-S-A! and all that, but I think I'm gonna pass.

2.
Speaking of painting nails, I used a Christmas gift card and bought myself a new brand of polish to try: Essie.

color: Russian Roulette

(I swear, only a coincidence to the subject in #1)

I have happened across quite a few people recommending it and singing its long-lasting praises. And since nothing is more annoying to me than actually getting around to painting my nails for once and then watching them chip on Day 1, I pulled the trigger and bought a bottle of color and the all-in-one base and top coat. It's a little pricier than a Walmart special, but only by a dollar or two. Plus the color selection looks pretty amazing. 

3.
We missed out on the last big storm that rolled through this week. We got maybe 2 inches is all. 
Most of the time the little stuff that isn't quite up to snuff in our house doesn't bother me. 
But then winter rolls around...
And it becomes quite obvious that living in a house someone else previously "fixed up" can be a bit of a pain in the ass.

Exhibit A:

Notice the cute little drift of snow in our front entry??

I am not shocked.

This room is tiny, and it is separated from the rest of the house by another door. This room also seems to have zero insulation. And tile floors. Talk about instant feet frostbite if you dare walk in barefoot. We never use the coat closet in this room, because to do so involves surviving the 30 degree temperature drop from the rest of the house. I can almost see our money floating out of this door. (And I can literally see the outside through the door frame when it is closed...)

I am all for do-it-yourself-ing. By all means, save yourself some money and tackle small projects on your own. But if you don't know how to do something right, then either figure out how to, or hire someone else. Because this is just so not legit.

Can anyone say Summer Project? 

It's next on the list. And sadly it will probably pay for itself just in the energy savings from one winter...

4.
I just finished reading American Wife.

It's not new. It came out in 2008 and apparently I missed all the buzz about it back then.

I like to get recommendations about books, but not overly research them. I like to know it's a type of book I would enjoy, but I don't want to read reviews and perhaps ruin a good book. So I didn't know ahead of time it was loosely based on what the author imagined Laura Bush's life to be like. And I don't even know if it is what she imagines her life to have been like, or if it was just an easy place for an idea to take off - a solid idea on which to base some facts and then let her imagination run wild. 

Either way, I really liked it. 

This has only been the second book by Sittenfeld that I have read, the first being Sisterland, but I liked them both. Apparently I like a journey into the mind of someone else, someone who might be vastly different than you, and finding the similarities that make us all human. Because even though she ends up a wealthy woman of privilege that becomes First Lady, she is still entirely relatable. 

Essentially it is a lot about marriage, and there were parts in the book that I found comforting. Like the small but definitely not-so-pretty parts that I am sure occur in every marriage, we just don't talk about them. It was wholly entertaining to me. I like to see how people get to where they are. 

What shaped them? 

What were they thinking? 

What drove them to do that? 

People are interesting to me in general, and her characters are jump-off-the-page real as you read, at least in my opinion.

I would definitely recommend.

5.

Then there is this cheeser:

He's doing anything for a laugh these days, even if it means eating a whole meal with a piece of ham on his nose.

He's learning new words - two in one day: yummy and baby.

His new favorite game is to get a long distance away and then run in to give you a hug. Followed by a big open-mouthed kiss of course.
Heart melted.

He is ornery already, following things he has clearly learned from sister Avery. She on the other hand seems pretty pleased with her new pupil.


Welp, that's all folks. 

Happy Friday!

off the rack

Jared's been hard at work ticking items off my wish-list this winter. 

About two weeks ago he finished our Pottery Barn-inspired cubby storage unit. But it took awhile to find the boxes we wanted to fill it with, and now we need to hang our family pictures above it. So maybe a post about that next week? 

In the meantime he used the scraps from that project to make a cute step-stool for the kids to use... and boy, do they use it! It helps them reach the extra-tall sink in our bathroom and is big enough for two to use at once. 
Heaven help us when Graham decides he needs in on the action too.

Jared's latest project:
a rolling rack for the girls' dress-up clothes.

After this past Christmas their dress collection grew immensely. Grandma Cathy sent a present that consisted of five Disney princess dresses. So along with the shoes and accessories (ie: bracelets that Tucker chews and destroys daily) they already owned, they have been in dress-up mode constantly. 

I love the... imagination?
Mismatched socks. 
Lion purse. 
Tutu with a bunched up dress.
And sensible flats to round it all out.

Anyway,
I had previously purchased an old-school suitcase at a garage sale for 25 cents and shoved all of their random items in there.
And it ended up looking like this. Constantly.

Time for something different.

There is lots of room for all their dresses. 
(And shawls. And owl purses. And feather boas. And cowboy hats.) 

The bottom of the rack is large enough to hold all the miscellaneous stuff. (And keep Tucker's favorite "chew toys" out of reach!)
Down the road I could even place containers inside it to separate or group together different items. 
Yay organization!

And the best part?
It's on wheels.
Perfect since we are storing it out of sight in the under-the-stairs closet when not in use.
Also, the wheels help the little guy feel like he is part of the action.  ;)

Super Bowl Sunday

Go Broncos!

As you can see from Graham's vintage tee, 
Jared has been a Broncos fan as far back as his 2T days.

We are going to be spending our Sunday curled up on the couch watching the game, cheering for "Bailey's team", and enjoying some Super Bowl appropriate appetizers. 

Way too many chips?
Homemade pretzels and cheese?
Little smokies?
Brownie batter dip?

Yum. Yes, please.

a typical Tuesday

So it isn't really Tuesday anymore. Not even close. 
I had good intentions, but other things took precedence yesterday. 

It's been cold here. Cold enough that school has been delayed and even cancelled in some cases. And a two-hour late start means no preschool for Bailey. So we have had some extra mornings together.

Nothing really exciting has been going on around here. 
No falling down stairs or anything... 
And since there is nothing to really write about, you get photos from a random Tuesday morning at the Solko household.

Apparently yesterday was the day to switch up the typical toy gender-roles.
Little Man playing with Jasmine?
Bailey fighting fires with the firehouse dog?
Sure. Why not?
It's easier for Graham to chew on a princess than a truck anyway.

Avery has quite the hair lately. Anything to keep it out of her constantly running nose. So forgive me some traces of snot in her photos, okay?

I love the next two pictures:
Avery sipping her tea very lady-like...

... and flash forward to her birthday 18 years from now.
Girl has the shot-taking down pat.

Bailey has been very much in a dresses-only, girly-girl stage for the past forever few months.
Dress with matching tights.
Hair pulled back. (always by herself I might add)
Fingernails painted.
Necklace on.
And if I had allowed it, I guarantee she would've been holding a tube of lip gloss, too.

"Mom, just so you know, I am sleeping with Eric."

Random, right?
I know.
Thanks for hanging in anyway.
Happy Hump Day!

Thoughts on extended breastfeeding

A year has come and gone, and as of tomorrow, our little man will be 14 months old.
I don't know how it happened, but in the blink of an eye he went from chunky 10-pounder to a lanky, completely mobile toddler.

And now Graham and I are at a place I was never at with my other two: 
still breastfeeding.

{As I am sure most of you know, Bailey never could nurse due to her cleft. 
And Avery quit at 11 months and some change, mostly because of her love of table food, but my pregnancy with Graham probably contributed as well. Either way nursing was a thing of the past by this stage of the game.}

It's an interesting thing nursing past a year...
In our culture here in the United States, a year seems to be the gold standard for breastfeeding. It's the ideal you hear talked about, the goal doctors mention as "best for baby." You nurse to a year and you've made it. You hit the target so you're done, right?

Not necessarily.

My goal with each breastfed kid has been a year.
But now I have reached that goal. And it isn't like the day before his birthday he is able to happily nurse away and the next he is cut off because he reached the year mark.
I haven't ever been one of those people who expressed a true desire to nurse past a year, it just kinda happened. And now that I am here, I am fine with it.

Nothing really changed for Graham and I. 
Yes, now that he is over a year, he eats more table foods. He doesn't nurse as often or for as long. (At this age he is a pro at sucking down a milky snack very quickly.) Once in a while he resorts to "acrobatic nursing" - which basically means he likes to try and nurse from every conceivable position: upside down, standing, you name it. (The kid is creative.) He will take a bottle or sippy cup with some of my freezer-stock pumped milk without protest. I can go quite a long time between feedings.

But it seems like the year mark changes things in some people's minds. 
I know many people think it is "weird." Like I will still be nursing him at age 10 if I don't stop right now. I think some worry that if I don't cut it off right here and now, I will become one of "those moms" that people -especially other mothers - tend to talk about. The ones who are breastfeeding their 5 year-old on a park bench. (No worries, that isn't my thing, but more power to those mamas!)

I get very annoyed with the suggestion that I am still breastfeeding in order to "keep him a baby" for longer. Believe me, if he didn't want to keep doing it, he wouldn't. Avery is a prime example of that. And I think all moms, especially those of us on our last baby, have a bit of a desire to savor these last "baby" moments. But that is not my reasoning for extended breastfeeding.

Even people who have been supportive in the past tend to get awkward and give off the "please tell me you're quitting soon" vibe. 
Have I thought about it? Yes. 
Would I like the freedom of not having to worry about nursing at all? Sure.
Am I excited at the thought of burning every piece of nursing-friendly clothing? Absolutely. 
Does that mean I am going to stop right now? Probably not. 
Breast milk still serves a purpose. It is good for him. And it is working for Graham and me and our family, and that is what counts. 

So when it comes down to it, 
how long will I continue to nurse?

Truthfully, I am not 100% sure. 
I am hoping he will self-wean, meaning he will just taper off naturally and decide for himself when he is done. From what I have read, many babies will do this by 15-18 months. By that stage, some kids will just nurse in the morning and/or at night. So it's not like this huge commitment I shudder to contemplate. 
If he wants to continue, I might let him up to 2 years old. Who's to say how I will feel in a few months? I might really, really be over it. Or I might feel fine continuing with 1 or 2 times a day. 

No matter what, it is a personal parenting choice. 
(Which usually means that everyone and their mom has their own opinions and feels the need to let you know what you "should" be doing...)
But when it comes down to it, I will be fine either way. 
Although a little self-weaning might enable me to burn those dreaded nursing tanks sooner than anticipated... :)

Five on Friday

 

1.  
I am back to the world of the able-bodied: walking, lifting, and bending. Oh my!
It is amazing how helpless you feel when you can't even put on your own underwear without ridiculous pain. I most definitely intend to never fall down the stairs ever again.

2.
And speaking of damaged bodies, there is my father. He had surgery on his right foot after enduring a year of increasing pain with any movement. He is basically stranded in a prone position for the next week, and saying he is going stir-crazy is a bit of an understatement. 
(Any prayers for my poor mother would be appreciated.)

And because everything is made better with sweets, we baked up some cookies for poor Grandma Papa.

I always wanted to be one of those women who bakes up theme-appropriate cookies just because. You know, hearts in February, pumpkins in October, etc - channeling a bit of Martha Stewart.

Yeah... I have owned this set of heart-shaped cookie cutters for years and this is the first time they have ever seen the light of day...

Bailey is really getting into this apron-wearing, sugar-cookie-baking thing.

3.
My favorite thing this week has been to watch all 3 kids run buck-nekkid down the hallway to the bathroom for their nightly bath. Especially Graham, his cute little bum and bowlegs running get me every time. 
It makes me smile just thinking about it.
I love it so much I videotaped it for posterity. 
And so I can embarrass my children in about 15 years (or sooner).

4.
My hubs is making us a storage unit for the kids' play space. 
I am highly anticipating its completion. 
He obtained plans from a website he uses frequently, and it is based originally on a Pottery Barn version.
He will be building ours to look like this one with a few changes.

I will probably post some pictures of it when it is all finished and the kids' toys are finally organized to my liking. :)

5.
I don't want to say too much about it yet because it isn't set in stone, but I am pretty excited about a job opportunity that sort of fell in my lap. It's just PRN and probably only a day or two a month at first, but it is in nursing and would be very schedule friendly. 

It's an answer to a prayer that I never really consciously prayed. 

A couple months ago I was pondering my life and its purpose in a WTF Wednesday post, and this position seems like a good chance at being able to make money for my family and put my nursing skills to use while still being able to mostly stay home with my kids. Lately I have grown more cognizant of the fact that my nursing skill set is getting a little rusty. This job could be a good way to avoid that huge gap in my resume and hopefully avoid starting over like a new grad when I return to regular work in the nursing field someday. Oh, and did I mention it pays amazingly. Here's hoping all works out!

Have a nice trip. See you next fall.

I'm truly not a klutz. Yes, I can be a little clumsy, but I am not that person that is always falling or breaking something. At least not usually.

Then came Thursday when I fell down a flight of stairs. 
An entire flight of stairs. 
Count them, thirteen steps.
Go me!

It all happened after lunch.
I put both 2 year-olds and Graham down for their naps upstairs. While tucking everyone in, I hear Mia - the 6 month-old - begin to cry downstairs. I hurried through the rest of the nap routine and headed quickly down the hall to the stairway. I was in a bit of a hurry and didn't notice our dog Tucker sitting on the last step before the top landing. My first step down the stairs was on to poor Tucker.
And I didn't take another step.
I fell hard on my right side and slid/tumbled down the rest of the flight.

Here's a wonderfully illustrated picture to help you visualize the situation.

(Totally helpful, right?)

Crumpled up at the bottom of the steps, I was in a bit of a daze, but the pain was intense and immediate.
It hurt bad. Like hurt bad-bad.
I was crying and started mixing in a bit of Lamaze-type breathing/sobbing in there too for good measure.
Bailey had been standing there in the living room and witnessed the whole thing.
For her benefit, I tried to pull myself together and stop crying, but I couldn't do it.
I tried to get into a sitting position, but halfway there the pain was shooting everywhere and I had to quit.

Bailey was silent and finally came and placed her Bun-Bun lovey on my chest and asked if that helped.
Not so much....
She asked if I needed a band-aid.
Nope, no visible bleeding...
She asked if she should go get Daddy.
Yep, good idea. Let's do that!

I tell Bailey, "Go tell Daddy that Mommy got hurt and she is crying."

She goes upstairs to wake Jared, who was sleeping from working the night before.
She tells him, "Mom stepped on Tucker, and she cried."
Close, but not quite.
Obviously, this did not sound urgent and therefore did not prompt him to leave his warm bed. He shooed her away and went back to sleep.
Bailey comes back down. I ask her, "Is Daddy coming?"
"Yep, he will be here soon."
A minute or so passes and I hear no sign of him coming. 
I ask her again, "Daddy is coming?"
She replies, "Yes, but he is going to sleep a bit first."

I sent her back upstairs with instructions not to leave until he came down with her. I just wanted him to come find me and help me get to the couch so I could rest.
This time with Bailey lurking outside the door, Jared gets the feeling something is up and eventually finds me at the bottom of the stairs. He knew shit was serious because he has never seen me cry in pain before - ever. Not through getting a ripped-off toenail stitched back on or during any of our children's deliveries. When he saw I couldn't get up on my own, he announced he was dialing 9-1-1.

Say what?!
I did NOT want that happening. 
The thought of the humiliation of having an ambulance coming to get me was enough to get me in an upright position. I begged and begged him to not call, but I couldn't stop him. Every movement was extremely painful, so I opted to stand in one place.

The ambulance did show up. 
How freakin' embarrassing. 
I was laying on the nearby couch and couldn't even move by the time the EMTs got there.
I mean it could have been worse, as some have pointed out. I could have been naked or something.
{Although if I was naked, I would've had a lot more explaining to do since it was 1 in the afternoon and I was watching other people's children.}

It was humiliating enough as it was. 
I had to be strapped to a board with a cervical collar on.

Bailey looks much cuter in it, I assure you.

{Adding insult to injury, Justy pointed out to me later that the collar has adjustments on it. Mine was set to "No Neck." 
Ummm... thanks a lot.
I am going to go ahead and assume that in the rush of things, they didn't take the time to adjust it from its standard setting because I don't think I qualify as a "no neck" type. At least I hope not.}

And during this whole time, the number one thought running through my mind was:
if having strangers dead lift you on a backboard from the floor isn't motivation to lose those extra pounds, I don't know what is.

Jared had called my mom after he called the ambulance, so she and my dad arrived in time for Jared to come to the hospital with me. 
Also perfect timing?
The funeral dinner across the street got over right as I was being wheeled down the sidewalk to the waiting ambulance. Plenty of people got an eyeful, and with this being a small town, the "news" traveled at the speed of light.

I took a ride in said ambulance and received a couple doses of Morphine. It helped take a bit of the edge off, but not much. I had to leave the C-collar on until I was cleared by a CT scan, which meant I rocked that No-Neck setting for a good 4+ hours. I kept receiving pain meds while hanging out in the E.R. and Jared did his best to entertain me. But truly, even a little chuckle hurt. Shifting positions even slightly was terrible. 

After all was said and done, it appeared that everything (other than my pride) was still intact.
So with that I returned home feeling bruised, sore, and stiff, as well as a little embarrassed.

Some leftover pain meds from a c-section helped me sleep that night and the next. I have trouble bending or twisting as I get shooting pain from my right flank up into my right shoulder. Changing positions in bed or even in a chair is awful. An ice pack has been my constant companion and it seems to help, if nothing else but just to numb some of the ache. 
Every day it has been getting a little better, but I still have to have Jared around since I can't pick anything (or anyone) up off the floor. I went to physical therapy on Friday and the exercises seem to be keeping the muscles in that area from getting too stiff.

So in summary: 

• Beware of dogs that are the same color as the carpeting on your stairs.
• C-collars aren't much fun.
• Toradol - not Morphine - is where it's at, people.
• If you see me out in public, and I am moving at the pace of a 90 year-old lady after hip replacement surgery, you now know why. 
• And please feel free to have a laugh at my expense. Who trips down the stairs on their dog, anyway? Seriously.

WTF Wednesday

Really, Graham?  Really?

At the ripe old age of 13 months, Graham has decided it is okay to take a bottle.
He reached this conclusion because Mia (the little girl I babysit) takes one, and he has made it his life's mission to successfully steal her bottle.

Up until now, he has never figured out how to properly suck liquids from any type of container - bottle or sippy cup. And due to that we are still going strong in the breastfeeding department. But it would be nice to start using that stockpile of old (probably freezer-burnt at this point) milk in the freezer.

I am hoping that he can make the mental leap that if a bottle works like this (even if it is a cleft bottle), a sippy might work the same.
Here's hoping.

So bottoms up, Brother.

Better late than never, right?

oh, how they grow

We haven't done much of note lately, and I feel like that's a good thing. I don't need a jam-packed calendar to feel like all is right with the world. 

Plus cold weather makes me lazy.

Like stay at home and just watch movies in our jammies lazy.

 



The days seem to blend together in this mesh of routine mixed with newness.

Graham almost running now.

Avery dressing independently.

Bailey talking of weddings and forcing her sister to marry her in a lavish ceremony on our stair landing.

 

How is it that things can seem to never change, but at the same time change all too quickly?

 

 

Sometimes I just look at her and I can't define what I feel.

 

It's this strange mixture of things.

I am sure every parent - every mom - has felt it.

Still feels it.

It can't just be me.

 

Pride in seeing them grow - learning new things, achieving new successes.

And utter sadness to feel them move another inch closer to adulthood. Another step separating them from the baby-ness they used to encompass, those days when they looked to you to fulfill every one of their needs.  A giant leap from that day years ago when you gave birth to the sweetest 7 (or 10...) pounds that ever existed.

I see her concentration on the picture she is creating.
I see her independence in the two hair clips erratically placed in her hair.
I see her father's eyes.
I see her growing up so quickly.


Graham turned one just a little over a month ago. It was the first 1st birthday party where I haven't already been pregnant again.
It's official: We are leaving the baby days behind us.
No more anticipation of another little person in the house again.

It's a bit strange...
We've been so focused on growing and building our family and now we have it.
It's complete.
We now shift our focus to completely enjoying the three little people who are such a part of us.
Anticipating future meal times without that crumb-collecting highchair.
Dreaming of vacations without pack-n-plays and a suitcase full of diapers. 
Looking forward to a time when our days aren't planned around important naps that shouldn't be missed.
Watching them grow and grow and grow. 
Because seriously, oh, how they grow.