Neverland Diaries

My sons have seen my boobs way more than I'm sure they care to. It comes with the territory of having a baby brother and a nursing mom that doesn't give a damn. It wasn't always this way. I'm not shy, but I'm definitely a prude. As someone who wears one-piece bathing suits and knee-length dresses, modesty is definitely my usual go-to. I tend to cover my eyes when things get too sexy in movies and on TV, a holdover from my prepubescent days no doubt. Somehow, having a hungry baby and a full load of household and motherly duties has made me not care about exposing myself. I still cover up in mixed company, or when I'm out and about or at someone else's house. If you're in my home though and you're in the circle of trust (you know who you are) all bets are off. I think it's important for nursing moms to openly nurse in front of their kids, regardless of age or sex. I don't think that I'm scarring my 8 and 11-year-old sons for life...

Tonight we will build a leprechaun trap. The execution and idea of said trap is fairly rudimentary and simple. Ok, it's essentially just a deadfall trap with a pile of Lucky Charms and some of my best costume jewelry underneath but stay with me.  Growing up, my family and I were heavy into the holidays, with my mom and dad making a celebration out of even the most mundane calendar events. Of all of the made up, pseudo-holidays, St. Patrick's Day was probably my favorite. Every year it was the same; green food dye in our milk, corned beef and cabbage in our bellies, "Darby O'Gill and the Little People" on the TV and my dad speaking in fake Gaelic to make us laugh. Sometimes we even woke up to a trail of golden coins leading to some kind of mischievous setup (in your face, Elf on the Shelf). My grandmother's Irish heritage gave us legit license to celebrate the holiday in our own utterly Americanized way, and I'm happy to pass it down to my ...

On a recent trip to Louisiana, while we were waiting in line at a grocery store for some boudin and cracklins, Max caught the eye of one of the locals. He was a large man who could have probably pulled a gator from the swamp with one arm, and he remarked in his best Matthew McConaughey voice " that's a skinny baby ." He proceeded to boast to us about the girth and size of his own baby boy, whom he lovingly referred to as a "hoss." It's a conversation that we've had a number of times now, and to be fair, everyone is right. Max is in the less than 3% range in height and weight for his age (for those of you that aren't in the know ... that's small). At 16 months old, he only weighs 18 pounds; by comparison, his 12 month old cousin weighs 23 pounds. He started out small though, weighing a full pound less than his older brothers did a birth, due maybe in part to a condition I didn't know I had.  But just because Max is small, doesn...