Since becoming a momma, spring break looks a little different than it used to. Gone are the days of bikinis, beaches, and day drinking. With a tightened budget and a tummy that could use some tightening of its own (not to mention two little people underfoot), I’ve slowly learned to master the art of the staycation.

I’ve put together a list for you of my top 5 tips for surviving a staycation like a mother.

*Note: This post is part of a new series I’m starting called Like a Mother, which focuses on conquering the seemingly impossible like only a mother can. 😉 If you can think of anything you’d like to see featured in this new series, shoot me an email.

Is it just me or is March going by in a blur? I realized this weekend that next week is spring break for my girl. That teensy tiny realization has me scrambling for ideas.

As I’ve mentioned once or twice (or possibly a million times), my big little lady gets bored easily. While the little one can get lost playing with her little people for hours, Sam needs more.

I’ve found that the best way to deal with her boredom is by being totally prepared. More often than not I am not prepared. But now that I’m an old thirty-year-old lady, I thought I should get myself together. 😉

Now, the problem with spring break in the northeast is that you really can’t predict the weather. We could have awesome, playground-worthy weather or the snow could just keep coming.

In case of less than stellar weather, I went hunting for kids crafts and a couple of experiments (she loves experiments!) and this is what I came up with:

When you find out you’re preggers for the first time, the whole registering for baby essentials thing can be a little intimidating. OK, it can be paralyzingly intimidating.

When I (unexpectedly) got pregnant with Samantha, I launched into full-on control freak mode. It was slightly alarming at the time because I don’t think that had ever really been part of my personality (but it is now, friends! It’s here to stay!).

I started picking up books and magazines on baby products and I would highlight and take notes and make extensive lists about safety ratings and price comparisons. I was straight up obsessed.

But what the books and magazines never told me is that you’re way better off with one magical product that does a few things than a million different highly coveted items–especially when you have more than one kid and are like a traveling circus whenever you leave the house anyway.

I thought I’d put a list together of a few of my favorite multi-purpose momma products. This list is by no means extensive. It’s tiny, but it’s a start…

I was a total delinquent on the holiday cards front this year. I came out of Thanksgiving all gung ho and with a pretty stinking adorable holiday photo idea. Then I got lazy. Then, as the boxes started pouring in, I got cheap. I decided I’d email a “card” to our friends and family, but I didn’t even make it that far. A Christmas morning Instagram shot that I also posted on Facebook was as good as it got.

But it did not come easily. Oh no.

In my experience, there are a few necessary ingredients to a holiday photo–and not all of them are easy to work with. Here’s what you’ll need next year for the perfect Christmas morning photo:

• A pretty, twinkling tree and an abundance of (unopened) presents
• Coordinating pajamas
• An ornery toddler who wants nothing to do with you
• An overflowing stocking with things much more interesting than you and your stinkin camera (even if that something is a cup)
• bright eyed and bushy-tailed Christmas morning patience

Here’s a peek at what your process will look like as you struggle to get all of the ingredients to work together (in case you need proof, this year’s struggle looks an awful lot like last year’s holiday photo struggle):

“My drink and new cup are way cooler than anything you could be trying to do.”

“I’m ignoring you. I’m ignoring you. I’m ignoring you.”

“My little sister is so cute and silly.”

“PRESENTS! Presents, presents, preseeeeents!”“This baby is cuckoooo!”

“Are we done yet?!”

“Fine. I’ll give you my cheese face if it means I can tear some paper.”

On Sunday President Obama spoke to the families that lost loved ones at Sandy Hook Elementary School. In his speech, he paraphrased this quote from Elizabeth Stone, my former professor and academic adviser at Fordham University.

“Making the decision to have a child―it is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.”

And it’s just so true, isn’t it?

I think a lot of times when women decide to have a baby they don’t realize just how true this thought really is. You expect to love your baby. You expect long nights and wiping butts and sticky hugs. But until that little lump–that living, breathing, feeling lump–is placed in your arms (or in my case, placed on my stomach where she promptly pooped on me) you don’t totally get it.

It sounds cliche, but it’s a total game changer. It was for me, at least. Things that mattered so much before just don’t seem important anymore.

You have made another human and it is your job to teach it everything there is to know about life. And aside from that tremendous task and all of the guilt and stress and sleepless nights that go along with it, there is the fact that it really does feel like your heart is walking around outside your body.

When they hurt, you hurt. When they accomplish something fantastic you swell with more pride than you ever imagined possible. When someone does something that hurts your baby’s feelings you turn into a fierce momma bear, panting and ready to pounce with teeth bared. Or, if you’re my momma, you waddle up to an unfamiliar front door to yell at some unsuspecting parent while nine months pregnant (and also panting) after someone teased your baby on the school bus.

And it’s hard. It’s hard to know how to handle feelings so strong and at times blinding. It’s hard to let your heart out on its own to explore the world and learn things for itself. It’s especially hard when we’re reminded of how fragile our little hearts really are, with all of the chest puffing and I can do it myselfs aside. It’s hard.

But we have to do it. As much as we’d like to tuck them away in our pockets and keep them there so that we can check on them from time to time, we can’t. We have to let them free. And it’s hard.