Backwards N High Heels

Balancing work and play while wearing many hats (I mean heels).

There was a Hello After a Goodbye

It was just six hours from midnight, from the infamous ball drop, from a New Year’s kiss, from the start of something new. We had company at our house, but my body didn’t care. Instead, I often excused myself to nervously pace the hallway and bedroom floor, timing my contractions to four to five minutes.

We joked about a New Year’s baby and our faces plastered on the front page of our local paper. By eight o’clock, the timing entered the two to three minute arena, and after a quick call to Labor and Delivery, our guests were wishing us the best as I grabbed our hospital bag.

I was scared but also excited and the magic of, we “are going to have a baby” floated in the air.

The car ride to the hospital was quiet. I squeezed my husband’s hand and breathed through each contraction feeling a sense of Déjà vu.

It was exactly one year ago, minus one day that my husband and I made that same drive. We drove along the same highway, passed the same winding river, took the same exit, and anxiously pulled into the same ER.

One year prior, the car was just as quiet, our hands locked together in a similar manner, and I breathed heavy but this time fear was the emotion.

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Beautiful Trenches

It was a hectic morning. Top five most stressful since our son Luke was born a month ago. Not the worse ever but enough stress and madness for me to chalk it up as a top five.

The truth is, the morning started in my favor. My husband delivered a hot cup of coffee to me as I remained in bed. Luke laid in a scrunched up ball on my chest soundly sleeping, and my daughter was tucked up against me with her blanket. The three of us were lazy as the snow fell outside my bedroom window creating a beautiful winter scene.

Fifteen minutes later, my daughter was impatiently ready to hit the ground running and suddenly my sleeping son began to cry, and the crying didn’t stop.

I felt like I was teetering between two worlds. One moment motherhood felt almost romantic with euphoric highs and in a split second, I was left feeling exhausted, overwhelmed, and emotional over our current reality.

The newness of two children is still an adjustment. Trying to juggle these little beings, our home, my marriage, and my well-being leaves me even more exhausted than the current weeks of sleep deprivation.

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Baby Nursery Reveal

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We have a new little scrumptious baby to love on. Our son, Luke was born a few weeks ago and I while I will wait on his newborn pictures to share details on his arrival, I wanted to share a peek inside his nursery space.

I knew exactly what I didn’t want for this space more than what I wanted for some time. I knew I didn’t want the typical baby boy is arriving blue. I also didn’t want any characters, or strong boy ties like hunting, fishing, sports, or cars themes. Instead, I wanted a space that was peaceful and calm with neutral colors and soft textures.

After some design scrolling on Pinterest and through Project Nursery, I decided on the gray and white color scheme. It felt relaxed, clean, and calm. You know, three words that do not typically describe little boys!

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So God Made Your Brother

As previously shared on the Backwards N High Heels Facebook Page.

And on the eighth day, God looked down on this planned family and said, “I need to widen this circle of love.”

So God made your brother. 

“I need someone who will make them remember what it is like to lose sleep. To remind them that life still exists in the wee hours. That the world continues to spin and people need and depend on you even when the time may not feel convenient. That magic does still exist at 4 am, even if it wakes your slumber.”

So God made your brother.

God said, “I need someone who will divert attention, create additional needs, and push little buttons. Someone who will one day knock over the Barbie Dream House and take Skipper hostage. Who will disagree when it is your night to pick the dinner location, but then find his way to snuggle in beside you when you get home and put your pjs on. Someone who you will boss around, bicker with, and love and protect all at the same time.”

So God made your brother.

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Hospital Bag Must Haves

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Hello, friends. It has been a while, and even when I did find myself here last year writing on the Blog, most of my posts were sporadic. Apparently having a second baby in your thirties, while working full-time, and managing a toddler… beat me down. Clearly, it wore me thin.

They just don’t make bodies like they use to. 🙂

We have been home for almost three weeks now since our second child’s birth and a million ideas have run through my mind on things to share – Things You Should Know About a C-Section, My Favorite Third Trimester Items, Top Breastfeeding Must Haves, and so much more. These thoughts usually hit me in the middle of a nighttime feeding, or as I stand over our stove boiling bottles for the 100th time, or when I am tracking how many poops and pees in a 24-hour period, but then it ends there.

Hopefully, I will find the time to share my experiences on the Blog, but the reality is learning to juggle two has been a bit more challenging than I expected, so I take one day at a time. Scratch that! More like hour by hour.

Today I challenged myself to share the items you need in your hospital bag because let’s face it, that bag will be one of the most important bags you pack in your life.

Two nights before our son was born, I was in Labor and Delivery. I was sure I was having a baby that night. I was 37 weeks and needless to say, I hadn’t packed my bag, which was just silly considering our daughter was born at 37 and a half weeks. I should have known better.

We rushed around the home throwing things into my bag, a bag for our daughter who was going to my mom’s home, and a diaper bag for our second born. Once we were sent home, and those bags brought in, I took the next 48-hours to unpack those chaotic bags and really, truly think about what I needed and to pack our bags.

Thank goodness, because our son came two nights later.

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Because In This World… You Are Those People

You Are Those People - BackwardsNHighHeels Blog - Family
There are people in this world that make our heart full… you are those people.

The ones we can argue with one moment, then run and hug the next. Those whose buttons we can easily push and know full well how and why we are doing this. Ones where “I am sorry” flows so much more easily. The people who we know how to rattle yet love fiercely, you are those people.

The ones who make every moment count. Those special times in our lives when you look up and hope to see them there, savoring the sweetest of life with you. The ones who you are certain the phrase, ‘save the best for last’ was indeed written for. When meaningful moments feel all too magical because they are around, you are those people.

The ones who great distances could never separate. Where no challenge – big or small could come in the way of you and them. In the darkness of the night, in the freshness of morning, when the time on the clock does not matter because you would go to any length and do anything for, you are those people.

The ones who find it in their heart and soul to forgive and forget. Who knows that your mistakes never define you and are always there to catch your falls and hit restart with you. Ones who will fight your battles alongside you and provide support so you can stand back up on your own two feet and hold your head high, you are those people.

The ones who make us cry with sadness from heartbreak, or who fill our hearts with joy from contentment. Who somehow have the magical power to make us feel what they feel in an instant. The ones who we absorb life through. When they feel, we feel, and when we feel, they feel through us too, you are those people.

The ones who make this one and only life count. Who fill every ounce of our hearts and soul with gratefulness and thanks to God. Ones who you would perhaps even lay your own life down for. The ones who when all that is left or matters in this life is those who stand beside you, extend their hand, and you hold tightly, you are those people.

— And, may you find the strength and love to share this message with your people. —

This Is What Happened When God Gave Me You

Today You Are ThreeWhen God gave me you I understood the true power of change.
For nine months my body grew and stretched. My favorite jeans were folded and placed in the closet. Hopeful for the day we would reunite, maybe with a cute top and heels, and your father by my side at our favorite restaurant. For days, weeks, and months after your arrival, I poked, sighed, nudged, and tucked extra skin and stretch marks reminiscing of the body that use to stare back in the mirror reflecting at me.

When God gave me you I learned what ‘love at first sight’ truly meant.
The idea of girl meets boy, their eyes lock, hearts patter faster, and suddenly a divine intervention brings them standing face-to-face. Well, my dear, that visual is made for the movies. ‘Love at first sight’ is reserved for a parent and child. It is created in the miraculous moment when you took your first breath and I lost mine staring at you. It occurs at the moment when they placed you in my arms and you never felt like a stranger, but instead a missing piece in our world.

When God gave me you I experienced the magic of 2 am.
With exhaustion racing through my mind and veins, your piercing cry would jolt me upright and to your side. In the quietness of the night, it was just me and you, baby. As I feed you and rocked you, even in the moments when my weary body felt like it was impossible to function, there was pure magic in those 2 am feedings. Something about the darkness and silence that brought out a beautiful peacefulness, and a non-verbal connection between us two.

When God gave me you I became more patient and understanding.
There were moments of frustration, and times when the days and nights felt so long. As you grew there were seasons of change. Things that stressed me before were suddenly replaced by new worries and challenges that needed to be faced. I was tried and I was tested. I gritted my teeth at times and excused myself to my bedroom for my own timeouts. I learned to extend grace to you and myself as we tackled every new endeavor.

When God gave me you I loved my own momma more.
Yes, your grandma became more special in my book too. Suddenly I realized the magnitude of the transformation from woman to mom, and my love and appreciation for my own mom grew when I was gifted you. The reality is I never knew the work, stress, worry, and challenges my own mom went through until I became a mom myself. Looking at you, I could finally see the love she had and gave to me all these years, and every sacrifice she made in between.

When God gave me you I realized my own strength.
From the pain I endured during those hours when my contractions intensified to the day my heart broke in tiny pieces watching kids ignore you for the first time on the playground, I realized your strength starts with me. I bend and break thousands of times quietly in efforts to keep you safe and secure.   On days when I feel broken, I look at you and know my strength is derived from the intense love I have for you.

When God gave me you I found myself.
I thought I knew myself. I thought I knew who I was in this world. No, my dear child, I never flourished in this life until God gave me you. I never realized my own attributes to this world until I held, cared for, and loved you. There was so much to learn and oh so much more to gain from the gift a being a mom. When people talk about their legacy and their work on this Earth, I always searched high and low, but now, I look at you and realize if mine is only you, well, then God knew exactly what he was doing when he gave me you.

That is How Motherhood Works

This Is How Motherhood Works - Backwards N High Heels Blog

Sometimes I snap pictures of Lo just to capture the moment. It is pure instinct with no real in-depth meaning, but then I go back and I look through the camera roll on my phone, and I stop and I am in awe at the beauty before me. Those messy curls, those morning eyes, the tiny features of her nose and cheeks. She still looks little to me. She still feels small. Yet, when I scroll through my phone’s photos to last fall or the fall before that, I realize how quickly time moves and how much my little one has grown.

It is not for the faint of heart this motherhood thing. It shakes you, tires you, and rattles your core. The good indeed outweighs every bad. How could it not? Just look at her. I melt to a puddle every time I see her.

And one moment I could be scolding her for taking a pen to my painted white walls, telling her at her age she should know better and watching the little light and her head fall in shame. Yet, a minute later I find myself cuddled up to her on the couch rocking her, calming her, and feeling all the guilt of being so hard on her, run quietly through my veins.

That is how motherhood works.

There are days I indeed beg my husband for a much-needed break. A time to check-out of worrying about everything and managing our day-to-day. Just some hours alone to be one with me. Yet, when he willfully complies and even sometimes absolutely agrees and takes our daughter for some daddy/daughter time, I find myself alone, missing them, checking on her through texts to him, and cutting my time short just to be reunited with the lovely chaos of life with a three-year-old.

That is how motherhood works.

I celebrate her every milestone with pride and relief. She is at a point that she is becoming self-sufficient. She will tell me when she is hungry or thirsty, with no more guessing. She uses the potty on her own,  she will run in the bathroom and start her own bath, and if I am not quick enough, she will run with her bath towel wrapped around to her bedroom and put on her training pants and pj’s without my help. It has given me freedom. It has, should I dare say, made motherhood easier. Yet as baby number two’s due date nears, I find myself looking at her and yearning for her dependence. The days she really needed me and when I was constantly hands on.

That is how motherhood works.

And the nights, oh the nights. The nights when she can’t sleep unless she is tucked into our queen size bed, and like a magnet, laying up against me. Oh, I complain the next morning. My back hurts, my neck is stiff, I tossed and turned and nudged and moved her until the alarm forced me to my feet. Yet, when we try really hard to create a routine and talk up sleeping in her own bed and praise her the next morning for a full night across the hall, I feel a pang of longing for my messy haired baby to want me in the middle of the night and find her way to my arms.

That is how motherhood works.

It is the ultimate emotional pull. Take every emotion one may experience, throw them into a well-worn brown paper bag, shake it really hard, and open it up so the emotions come rolling one by one out into the world. That is motherhood.

I look at her now and the pictures of her then, and it hits me… time. Sweet, time. It is why motherhood works so very hard. Because we as mothers know that the saying is so true, that “the days are long but the years are short,” and as we check off another, we let a strand go.

It is the guilt, the sting, yet so much wonderfulness. It is a push when you want to pull. A no, then a sudden yes. It is boundaries and spontaneity. It is that bag of emotions spilling out that you rush around scooping up to place back in.

That is how motherhood works.

Fight the Worry to Hear the God Whisper


Sometimes I can get pretty deep in my own headspace. Deep, deep. Like, throw your favorite piece of jewelry into the deep blue, only to dive in to frantically search. Holding your breath and propelling yourself as far as you can go knowing full well you will never find it again, headspace. Well, unless you are Rose from the Titanic and you have a team of submarines searching for the Heart of the Ocean.

Driving is when my headspace and I like to sit down for therapy sessions. Oh, and at 2:38, yes, 2:38 am when I seem to spring awake and toss and turn trying to solve every life issue from horizontal in my bed. Headspace you see can be a scary place. One that leaves you with regrets for things you haven’t accomplished, things you wish you said, or done different, moments in time you can’t take back, and sometimes the worse, the corner of headspace where worry likes to creep in and nest.

I am the ultimate worrier. You know Negative Nancy and Happy Harry (I made him up). Well if there was a person for me it would be Worrying Wanda. Every situation, good or bad, I fret. The anxiety that plagued me, yes plagued me, in my mid to late twenties has since disappeared. I credit that to having a child and being busier and more consumed by her and her feelings/needs than my own. But the worry nest still exists and has cute little eggs that like to hatch and chirp around causing me to dive deep into my headspace and fret over the future and most of the time, things out of my control.

If you know my father, you know he is a quiet guy. A man of few words. Just sitting with him quiet but near is really routine and nothing out of sorts. However, he is often full of guidance and sharp words to snap you back into reality, such as “Stop crying. It gets you nowhere.” I heard that a lot as an emotional teen. But as an adult when I worry, it tends to be, “Ashli, is it out of your control?”

“Yes, Dad”

“Okay, well worrying won’t solve the problem then.”

Or sometimes, I will hear, “Is the issue of life or death?”

“No, Dad.”

“Okay, then there is no point of worrying.”

This may be the reason the man has incredible blood pressure and an amazing heart rate.

You know where I go when I find myself drifting off into headspace la la land? I go to a place of purpose in life. What is my calling? Why am I searching so hard, so quietly within myself to know God’s plan for my life? That is my worry. And, I then worry even harder because I know it consumes my mind so much that I am indeed not acting upon my calling, and not hearing what my digital friend, Leslie Means refers to as God Whispers. The little voice you hear in your head saying, “Go for it,” or “Take the leap,” or “Yes, my friend, I do indeed mean that.” Indeed the worry is muffling my cell phone tower, aka communication line to God to really hear him and know what he is calling me to do.

Another digital friend, (I know I have a lot – blogging will do that to you), shared with us this week the death of her beloved sister-in-law. This young woman learned of her diagnosis of pancreatic cancer and within three short months, passed away. She left behind a husband, son, and countless family and friends. I do not know her, but suddenly hearing her story, how hard she fought, and the love her life brought others, has me trying really hard to not allow the worry within my headspace to win.

Oh, I am going there. To my headspace that is. Realizing how short this life is and feeling so sad that it takes tragic events in life to make us hit pause and reevaluate our positions, priorities, and paths. So, I go there ready to fight. Saying Lord, let this worry of not doing, not living my passion, not following my calling subside so that I can hear the God whispers and know what you are nudging me to do. Because I can feel your nudge. It is there. There is just a door shut and locked not letting Your calling out.

And, as the quiet man, I call ‘Dad’ says, “Okay, well the worry won’t solve the problem.” He is right, be gone with you, worry. Get out of the way. I can feel you slowing me down and not allowing me to reap the benefits of what is to be.

So today, I share this with you to urge you too to stop and pause and listen. Fight the worry and fear of what others are thinking or will think of you. FIght the urge to allow everything that scares you to turn you walking the other way. Fight the need to find excuses for why something cannot work. Fight the feeling of guilt for taking care of yourself. And instead, be open and listen, so you may find the God whisper that is trying to get through to you.

What I Mean When I Say, ‘I Hope to Raise you Right.”

When I found out I was having a girl back in 2014, the first thought that came to my mind was that I couldn’t believe it (that is a story for another day and the result of an ultrasound tech writing “It looks like a girl” on our printed sonogram) but secondly, I thought, “Oh, Lord, help me raise her right.”

I think that is a normal fear regardless if you are welcoming a boy or girl, or if you are a first time parent or bringing another child into this world. The truth is the “Oh, Lord, help me raise them right,” thought or ‘fear’ will follow you through life as a parent, not just during those pregnancy and newborn stages. However, raising them ‘right’ is up for interpretation and we can pour our hearts, souls, and well-being into our children as they enter each stage of their life, and yet, one day, in a moment, they will walk out of our home and be tested in the world.

So, dear child, while my hope always is to raise you ‘right,’ what I really mean is this…

  • Your best accessory is your smile. When you enter a room, acknowledge those around you with eye contact and a smile. It eases people and is a warm way to make a first impression.
  • You are beautiful but you are also more than that. We easily praise people on their looks but fail to compliment their brains, athletic ability, character, and heart, which amounts to so much more in value.
  • Treat everyone you meet with the same respect. Titles only matter on a business card. You can achieve just as much, if not more, than the person down the hall with a personal admin, sitting in a plush, shiny suite.
  • Always be honest. It is admirable. Even if the truth hurts you and others, at the end of the day, you answer to yourself and I pray you can always go to sleep with a conscious heart.
  • When all else fails, call your parents. No matter what, your biggest supporters in this life will be your ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad.’
  • Practice forgiveness and empathy. Too often we hold grudges and miss out on meaningful relationships because we can’t let go. Please, let go.
  • Treat yourself better than the people you love the most. That is not selfish, that is important. Your well-being is critical to your success and the love you project.
  • Perfection does not exist. Do not be fooled by what society pressures on you. Life is messy and unkind. Know that and you won’t be disappointed.
  • The smartest people in a room are the ones listening. Learn early in life that listening is a skill that does not come naturally, but if you excel at it, you are among the leaders.
  • Don’t burn bridges. Decisions will need to be made and some will not so easy, but always go about your actions and words by remembering that while this world feels big it is quite small, and you actually may never know who is standing on the other side of the bridge you just let burn.
  • There will come a point in your life when money actually doesn’t mean anything, but instead, your self-worth and contentment are more powerful and abundant than the zeros in a salary.
  • The adage of how you treat someone when no one is looking is exceptionally true. Strive to be the good the world is yearning for.
  • Stand up for what you believe, but more importantly remember that what you believe may not align with others and that is okay, I repeat okay. Respect others. Even if their beliefs are not the same as you.
  • Be silly and never take yourself too seriously. There is enough seriousness in this world.

And, while I will do my best to raise you the way I feel is ‘right’ and I know my work is never done, I also know one day I will transfer you to the world. From there my hope is my guidance and wisdom, lessons I have learned will stir and spiral somewhere in the depths of your soul, and subconsciously you will bring the world the grace, kindness, and love it so desperately needs.

Love you,

Your Momma.