How long have I been promising pictures of this? 

It's been done for months. 

I suppose I had a few things going on...

This dresser was made in 1903. Found in my mother's basement. You should have seen the 'before.'

I used grosgrain ribbon for pulls- cream with grey pickstitch. It makes it feel more casual. I love them.

(No. Those are not pictures of Brian giving me a piggy back ride. Although the thought of that makes me laugh. I have not put pictures in the frames yet.)

 I wanted a really washed out room. Lots of pale blues and dovetail grays. 

I had to mix some of my own colors to get the effect (and paint the horizontal stripes twice).

This picture turned out terrible- the walls are not this dark.

Hello, Ellie.

A room full of my favorite animal.

This is a custom wall graphic from somewhere on Etsy.

I found these elephant hooks in the clearance bin at the Maxx. They were three dollars for the set.

When I bought them they were a terrible shade of pink.

Proof positive that anything can be made awesome with a coat of paint.

Second case in point. This dresser. Found on Craigslist (another early 1900s piece) for $60.

I was originally planning on purchasing Athro glass knobs but decided on a whim to check out the hardware at Lowe's.
Same exact knobs for a third of the price.

I love it. But maybe it will be too much? What if I paint it white?

All in all things turned out well. If I had it all to do over again I would have custom made the slipcover on the chair and ottoman. I don't love it. It's a weird cream color and I would have preferred white (Don't worry, the lone silver picture over the chair will one day be part of a grouping. I just have to find other silver frames to match.). I also would have changed the drapes. I've never done a patterned curtain before, and now I know why. I would have done a gray dupioni silk instead. More formal and more grown up but I think I would have liked them a lot more. I would also have loved to do a white chandelier (in my personal opinion every single room in your house should have a chandelier- even the hallways. They make me happy.) but because we live in a story and a half we have some serious heating and cooling issues. So, unfortunately a god awful ceiling fan is a necessity. Next time.

We have been knee deep in preschool visits and applications for the past few months. Every time I sit down to write this post I'm so overwhelmed by all the goings on of school that I don't know where to begin. We are blessed that we live in a city with sooo many choices. It is also a terrible downfall of St. Louis- too many choices! We've visited private, parochial, independent, Montessori, Reggio Emilia schools, schools that have preschool and grade schools and some with just stand alone preschools. Over the last three or four months we have taken a list of over THIRTY schools and narrowed it down to two- a standard run of the mill preschool and an independent school that uses the Reggio Emilia approach.

In the beginning of this search I was convinced that I wanted the babes to attend a Montessori school. I did. My brother did. I love the child directed nature of the approach and with twins this is really important. Because we have no plans to separate the children until (at least) after kindergarten and each child has their own strengths and weaknesses, we wanted a program that will capitalize on each and truly treat them as independent individuals. For example, Parker can recognize every letter of the alphabet on paper and count into the teens. A standard preschool might not push him further which, I feel, will frustrate him and he may act out because of boredom. Montessori solved this problem, or so I thought. We visited four Montessori preschools and weren't thrilled with any of them. We just didn't feel at home. If we are to pay a second mortgage every month in preschool tuition we want it to be a perfect fit.

Then we found it. The most amazing school we've ever walked into. It uses the early childhood approach of Reggio Emilia (similar to Montessori except there is more of an emphasis on nature) and continues on through middle school. Preschoolers grow organic gardens in the greenhouse, kindergarteners go on overnight field trips, third graders write research papers, sixth graders go on a two week long science trip to South Carolina and the Smoky Mountains during the school year. The ratio is one to six. ONE. TO. SIX. Preschoolers have drama, art, music, and gym every. single. day. Amazing. We were totally blown away. As cheesy as it is to say, there is a real focus on learning for the sake of learning rather than for the test (which some classrooms don't even give). I left with tears in my eyes. I knew this was the perfect place for our children. Perfect.

The problem is the birthday cutoff. A date that every state has and one that ours strictly enforces. July 31. The babes must be three by July 31. We miss the cutoff by two weeks. The administrators at the school were willing to accept the children into the 3/4s room if they went part time (three half days) and if they stayed in the same room for two years rather than one. This was a tough decision. Would it be more difficult to attend one school for a year and then switch or to stay in the same room while all of their friends moved on to the 4/5s room? The majority of the preschoolers in the 3/4s room have attended some type of school program before, our twins haven't. Is it worth it to pay more for part-time preschool than for our house every month?

So we found another school we would be ok sending our children to.  Like it, don't love it. A standard private preschool. Attached to a church but not religiously affiliated. The focus here is on play. Everything is learned through play. There are daily goals and lessons, however, not taught in the standard method but rather through games, songs, outdoor activities, etc. We could send the babes here for one year (for about 70% less in monthly tuition) and then switch them when they are of age for the 3/4 room at the other school. This seems the most logical thing to do, however, what if we move in two years for a fellowship? Fellowships are only one year long so there is a real possibility that our children will have been to four schools in as many years. Oh, the decisions. And the applications. Did I mention the applications. Some of these suckers are down right philosophical. Harder essays than what I wrote to get into University of Michigan- and more expensive application fees too! The standard is $150 which we've already paid to two different schools and are about to pay to one more. Outrageous. And we don't even live in a city like San Francisco or New York where the wait lists begin before conception...like I said, this is all so overwhelming. We want the best education possible for our children and are willing to do just about anything to get it but it is not an easy decision to make. Not at all what I had anticipated when I started doing my research back in October. If preschool is this bad, I'm already dreading the high school application process...yikes!

Ok. Here's the deal. I am officially four weeks post partum and completely sick of all pants with an elasticized-up-to-my-bra-waistband. The problem is that I still can't get my humongous body into my old jeans. Like, not. even. close. Even with a little wiggle and lots of these-pants-are-a-little-tight-lunges.

Deep breath.

I have a problem with accountability. And justification. Bad day? Then eating out of the ice cream container is totally acceptable. Walking upstairs during what is supposed to be naptime only to find poop smeared all over the bathroom? Go ahead, you totally deserve to raid the potty candy stash. See what I mean?

So starting today, and every single Wednesday thereafter, we're playing a game called Let's Get Brooke Back Into Her Skinny Jeans. Won't that be fun? See, this is the accountability part of my problem. And because, other than my mother and father and every once and awhile my husband, I really have no idea who reads this little blog (nor do I care to- it makes me nervous to know. Hence no blog comments. The last thing I want is comments on my life please.) So if I blabber on about my recent purchase of a SIZE TEN pants (size ten people!) I don't know who's out there but I do know you're out there. Scary, huh? I'm officially accountable to the people in the clouds...

The history of my fat: When I moved to Indianapolis I was about three sizes smaller than what I am right this second. That size (4) for me takes a lot  of work (think multiple hour workouts every day of the week) and a ton of deprivation. Then I moved in with Brian and, ooops, I gained ten pounds. Not a terrible thing to be a size 6. It's really my perfect size. The one where you can eat pretty much anything and work out a moderate amount and maintain it easily. The size my body is happiest being. Oh, but then my two favorite little people came along and, bam, SEVENTY FIVE POUNDS later I was pregnant with twins. When I became pregnant with Harry I still had 10-15 of those pounds to lose. Add to that the 45 pounds of weight I gained with him, minus the thirty pounds I've lost the past three weeks and we come to the positively awesome number of 38 pounds to lose. THIRTY FREAKIN' EIGHT POUNDS.

Obama should read that last paragraph for a lesson on transparency.

Three of my goals this year were to lose this weight (one), become a more conscientious food consumer (two), and put myself together every morning (three). This little weekly weigh-in of mine is one step closer to goals one and two and when they are accomplished a step in the direction of number three. You see, I cannot get pretty every morning when my wardrobe consists of maternity underwear, velour no-nos, and and spandex pants- which, yes, I totally wear even when I have not and have no plans to workout. Because I am just that large right now. This is me justifying yoga apparel is A-ok to wear when not in a yoga studio. Which, if you've seen rear ends like mine walking around in their shiny Nike pants, you know is completely non-justifiable. I'm the person people whisper about..."spandex isn't for everyone," they say.

Goal number two has been pseudo accomplished. Until the babes were about 15 months old we were totally on the organic bandwagon. Then it dawned on me that my husband was a resident and I was a stay at home mom, and paying our mortgage was more important than shopping at Whole Paycheck (as Whole Foods is known around these parts). Since, Baby was born, however, we've returned to the better for us philosophy. It's not so much about organic as it is about knowing what's inside our food. This means eating only foods with ingredients we can pronounce, avoiding genetically modified foods, eliminating HFCS from our diets completely, shopping locally, etc. We've found some incredible local dairies, and while the two CSAs in our area have year-long waitlists we've been buying all our produce at the farmer's market (which we are super lucky to have year-round).

Sooo, better for me food combined with three days a week at the gym (helloooo Tyler), yoga on Thursdays, and The Shred every afternoon during naps, those thirty eight won't be that hard to lose. Right? Stay tuned to find out...

Harrison (or 'baby' as he's commonly referred to) is officially four weeks old today, what a fast four weeks it has been. I am so lucky to have had twins before having a singleton- this past month has been a total piece of cake. We've pretty much kept up our crazy busy schedule with Baby just along for the ride...

Last night he slept from 10pm to 3:30am and then woke for the morning at 7am- a schedule I am A-OK with!

At four weeks old baby measures 23.5" long and 11 pounds 10 ounces, placing him in the 90% for height and the 95% for weight (this is the first time that any of my children have been in a higher percentile for weight than height). Another really big boy. So big, in fact, that we have put away all the newborn, and 0-3 month clothes. We're now wearing 3-6 months and size 1-2 diapers. At this pace, Harry might just end up bigger than Parker- a feat in and of itself!

I'm surprised I wasn't born in an ice rink. Growing up, I practically lived in one. My father helped to found the largest club hockey program in the city. He has coached more hockey teams in my lifetime than I have fingers and toes. My little brother was in skates at three and hasn't taken them off since. He played at Indiana University and I'm pretty sure will die of old age still skating for a men's league. My dad didn't stop playing until he was over fifty- he too played in college. Although I was never really good at it, I started figure skating in grade school and continued all through high school. Some days I would wake before the sun came up to be on the ice. My first job was at an ice rink. The smell of ice continues to be one of my favorite things...

We've been waiting until the babes' feet were big enough for skates. The time is here. If I may brag a little, they are both quite good. Naturals. Lessons start in March. We're getting a head start by going to open skate every Friday...

I can't wait to see this little one in white skates and sparkly skirts...

Or this one, chasing the puck around the ice in head to toe gear...

We are so blessed.

A third perfect infant.

With a perfect newborn smell that I cannot get enough of. I continually find my face snuggled into the nook of his neck without really knowing how I got there. I am addicted.

Perfect newborn skin. As soft as butter and almost as irresistible as his yummy scent.

A perfect sleeper- waking only twice to nurse before drifting soundlessly back to dreamland.

With a perfect little whimper and even more perfect little grunts, I find it nearly impossible not to have him in my arms every second.

I love to feel his perfect little breaths on my skin. They are so comforting.

His perfect little body that I have come to know so well over these past nine months buried against mine while we sleep.

He is pure perfection.

Then there was this...something about orange lately just does it for me.

I'm still dreaming about that peacock blue...

I either need a really big house one day or someone needs to let me redo theirs.

Speaking of redo, in a totally unrelated, related sort of way, our kitchen is in the process of becoming finished- the last bank of cabinets, new wainscoting, new fixtures, grout for our backsplash, wallpaper (yes, I'm wallpapering my kitchen)...

We have a few white cabinets with glass doors and I'm thinking about wallpapering the inside...or perhaps painting them. Maybe that peacock blue with damask roman shades in the same shade for the windows. We need a pop of color in our all white and tan and beige kitchen...what color should it be? Navy? Lemon? Blue? Orange?

I'll give you a little sneak peak at just how far we've come:

Before

Eight hours after we closed on the house

Looking forward to sharing the finished project in a few weeks...

PS. I think Massachusetts ROCKS! In a state where Dems outnumber Republicans THREE to ONE the people have sent a very clear message- this health care bill BLOWS! Here's to 2010!

Did you happen to read USA Today a few days ago?

 If so, you might have confused this very attractive Texas quarterback for my husband...

Um, they look stinkin' identical...even Brian did a double take!

This was delivered to us this morning.

A belated Christmas gift from an awesome uncle.

I think it's the bees knees...so do my babes.

Roller Coaster from Brooke Meek on Vimeo.

Brian was off this week.

An entire week with Daddy.

We haven't seen him this much since the babes were less than a year old.

There was a lot of this...

Some of this...

(Notice Parker is not in any of the above pictures...our child has a case of the 'I-do-not-like-to-be-photographed-itis')

My daughter is a hoarder.

I'm envisioning that in 20 years her apartment will be stuffed to the ceiling with stuff and we'll have to call her in for an intervention on that show...

She loves all things baby but lately has taken it to another level. Her strollers are filled with baby stuff, blankets, play food, purses- you name it, it's in there. And of course they're all hers. Heaven forbid Parker even go close. Today I walked down into the basement to find this:

She had pulled the tree house into the center of the floor to block Parker from getting in. I walked down just in time to find her carrying the wooden doll bed (in high heels no less) over to the corner- the best part is that this was the last thing she brought over so she had to heave it over the coffee table and over the PB kids chairs... I was trying so hard not to laugh. Notice the overflowing shopping cart. Did I mention the heels?!

This morning we went to see Elmo- and Big Bird and Abby Cadabby and Bert and Ernie...

All five of us in subzero temperatures.

Because mom is super planner we arrived 20 minutes early and had time for this...

We were a little nervous that the babes might still be a tad young...not a chance.

They were obsessed with every song and dance.

Parker was glued through the entire two hours...he cried when they said 'goodbye.'

Sesame Street Live 2009 from Brooke Meek on Vimeo.

Oh. And this little one? He slept through the entire thing...

We didn't give the babes binkies until they were three months old. I was breastfeeding and wanted to be sure there was no nipple confusion. No bottles, no pacifiers, nothing but mom. Finley took to it right away and has been dependent on the thing for sleep ever since. Parker wanted nothing to do with one until, at nine months old, we moved into a new house. I thought it was his way of coping with a new situation and who was I to say no? He started sleeping with his sister's and after awhile I caved and bought some blue ones. On their first birthday we banished the binkies to crib only- naps and night time. At their two year birthday we threw all of them away but one orange one for Parker and one purple one for Finley.

Fast forward to two and a half years old. They still have them. I hate them. They stink and make morning breath nearly unbearable. They get lost and I have to search for them. It gives me the willies to see them with them...we should have been done with them long long ago. But there was too much going on I told myself- first it was a new school, then it was big kid beds, then it was potty training, then baby Harry. Too many transitions.

We've been talking with the babes for the past few months about how soon it will be time to get rid of them. Soon we will have to throw them in the trash can because we are too big to use binkies, that binks are for babies, not big kids. Well, this morning we were having our talk about being too big for binkies and Finley looked up, said 'yeah' and headed to the trash can. She tossed hers in and never looked back. Could it be that easy?

Nap time came and there were serious meltdowns. Parker, who never agreed to any of this, wanted his binky. Tears and screams and tears and more screams. Nothing I could say made it better. Of course, when you have twins this type of behavior is often contagious. Finley promptly started her own "I want my binky" show. I had to close the door and walk downstairs with two inconsolable children left sobbing in their beds. Ten minutes later and both were asleep.

I took out the trash this afternoon. There is no turning back. We are officially done with our binkies. And it feels so good.

Last night it snowed.

Six inches of powdery, beautiful, white snow.

Parker has been asking to make a snowman since November.

He was beyond excited when he woke up this morning.

I was expecting the babes to last ten minutes tops.

Layer after layer, boots, hats, mittens...

An hour later and I finally convinced them to come inside.

Parker Sledding from Brooke Meek on Vimeo.

Finley Sledding from Brooke Meek on Vimeo.

Besides, mom was clearly no good at sledding...

My blog has been neglected. I have had perhaps the fullest, most exciting two weeks of my life and there are no posts to document it all. My goal for this afternoon is to go back and fill it all in...to blog-cheat if you will. So if your reader all the sudden pops up 18 unread posts from me, well, you know why.

Until then, I leave you with the most perfect one day old (in this picture) angel...

Since getting married, Brian and I have yet to have a slow year. Graduating medical school, getting my master's degree, moving to St. Louis, starting residency, having twins, buying a house, adding a third little one to our family- all this and more in just over three years.

My resolution this year is to slow down. To live in the precious moments that are given to me. To live fully and be there wholly. To stop planning the next day, the next week, or the next month. To live for the now.

Although the majority of the following don't necessarily keep with the above resolution, I have a ton of goals and things I want to do by year's end:

* lose the 43 pounds of moving-in-with-Brian-twin-pregnancy-last-baby-pregnancy weight that desperately needs to go

* eat cleaner foods- we all need to cut out the processed crap and ingredients we can't pronounce. Next week I'm cleaning out my closets and we're not looking back!

* finish the last remaining projects in my house- the kitchen especially!

* eliminate sweat pants/terry cloth pants/velour pants/etc. from my wardrobe forever (and ever)

* get dressed up for myself and for my husband each and every single morning- staying home is no excuse not to look my best (neither is having an infant)

* go on vacation! We have yet to go on a family vacation and this year no matter where we go or how small it is we're going somewhere. Just us. For us.

* I entered a mini in May...technically I'm not even supposed to start working out for another five weeks which will make training tough but my goal is to run at least one race this year.

With EIGHT goals, my over under for success is pretty good...Let's see how well I do!