*This post includes affiliate links, which means I may make a small commission off of your clicks and purchases. It is an easy way for you to support my blog.
Hey, friends. How
Hospital Must-Haves: Packing for Baby
Easter Basket Ideas for Kids
*This post contains affiliate links. That means I may make a small commission when you click and/or buy from my links. This is no cost to you. I appreciate the support and business.
Easter falls later this year, April 21, 2019. It always seems that when the holiday hits later in Spring, I suddenly feel like it has snuck up on me versus when it falls earlier. I know, that is counter-intuitive, but I think the late date makes me believe I have all the time in the world when the reality is I absolutely procrastinate. Not this year, Karen, not this year.
This holiday season we will have two babies, and before you get all, “Whoa, your hands are super full?!” Eye roll, sip your latte, eye roll – I indeed do.
The transition from one child to two has been hard on me. I am unsure if it is natural (although, I seem to hear this similar sentiment from fellow moms), or if the four years with one child spoiled me, or if this never-ending winter/cold/flu season has crushed my soul, either way, it has been all hands on deck.
So with this awareness, I am planning ahead and kicking procrastination in the butt. Plus, I literally have Amazon arrive every other day since I am ordering diapers, wipes, laundry detergent, kitchen sponges, etc, on the fly. It is so easy!
Onesie | Carrot Blanket | ‘My First Easter Basket’ Play Set | Carrot Rattle | Bunny Book | Graduate Puffs | Bunny Pacifier | Bibs
Hunter Boots | Book | Swimsuit | Inflatable Pool Tube |Cuddle + Kind Bunny | Bunny Book Bag | Egg Chalk | Bath Crayons
Did you enjoy this post? You may also enjoy these.
– 5- Non-Candy Easter Gift Ideas Under $50
– Creative Easter Basket Ideas
– Easter Basket Ideas for Toddler Girls
If You Give A Mom A Baby
If you give a mom a baby, she’s going to ask for a cup of hot coffee.
When you give her the cup of hot coffee, she will probably take one sip, then set it down on the counter.
She will set it down because the baby will start to cry so she will ask for the baby’s pacifier.
Then she will want to walk around the house bouncing and shushing the baby.
She will probably walk by a mirror.
When she looks in the mirror, she might notice her hair hasn’t been washed in four days, so she will probably ask for a hair tie.
VIEW STORY »Dear Loves, Do You Realize
Dear Mom,
Do you realize you were the first person in this word to love me? From the moment you learned I was just a tiny something growing in your belly, you were the very first person to open your heart and carve a place for me to live. You loved me before you even set your eyes on me. You loved me unconditionally before knowing who I would become. It was an immediate love. Your love has been my foundation as a human. It taught me to trust and how to eventually mimic when one day I would too become a mom.
VIEW STORY »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.
VIEW STORY »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.
Happy Birthday, my Sweet Girl
“Mommy, I am going to miss little Logan,” my daughter said to me about herself as I bathed her. Tears swelled in my eyes and I suddenly felt a heaviness in my chest. The approaching birthday for my daughter has left me sentimental and longing for her baby days.
I am grateful for another year. My goodness, a birthday is a gift. It is the opportunity for gratitude for the year we were given and the hope for what another will bring. Kind of like New Years minus the ball drop and noisy blow horns.
Although a ball dropped on me as the months turned to weeks, then days, then hours, and suddenly I sit here staring at a four year old before me.
The best way to describe this feeling is to imagine holding a flower and pulling a petal. Do you remember as a child grabbing a daisy and saying, “He loves me, he loves me not,” as each petal dropped to the ground? Except for me, each petal represents another year gone and another year of her growth.
VIEW STORY »Holiday Gift Guide for Him
Happy holidays! I am kicking off the return of this magical season with my annual gift guides. These are quick roundups of gift ideas organized by the recipients. Every season I try to tackle a few and every year I wish I would have been able to go live with more before Santa is climbing down our chimneys. Here is the thing, I actually take the time to develop these. I know every other blogger out there is showcasing their favorites too in guides, but I really try to showcase a mix of price points and things I would actually buy. That takes some time.
So without further ado, I figured I would start with maybe the world’s hardest – the guys in our life.
Wooden Beer Caddy | Outdoor Gloves | Patagonia Waterproof Jacket | Built-on Lego Brick Mug | Oakley Sunglasses | Smart Wallet | 11-in-1 Credit Card Tool | Wooden Keyboard and Mouse | Custom Etched Growler | Jefferson’s The Manhattan – Whiskey | Outdoor Pizza Oven | Scotch-Infused Toothpicks
Some Gift Guide Highlights:
- The Smart Wallet features a two-way anti-lost and tracking system that can be connected to your phone.
- The 11-in-1 Credit Card Tool is made to feature a can opener, cutting edge, flat screwdriver, ruler, beer bottle opener, 4 position wrench, butterfly screw wrench, saw blade, direction ancillary indication (water compass), 2 position wrench, keychain or lanyard hole.
- The Outdoor Pizza Oven can preheat in just 15 minutes and make pizzas with a 6 minute cook time!
Happy Shopping!
*This post contains affiliate links.
That is How Motherhood Works
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.
- 1
- 2
- 3
- …
- 23
- Next Page »