This Little Gem I Cherish

May 6, 2015

I break out this picture every May 6th and here is why.

As us girls gathered for pictures before my wedding ceremony, my photographer took some solo shoots of me. Laughing on cue is not my forte.I mean whose is it? So, we enlisted the help of none other than my Uncle Barry. He stood behind our photographer, Katie, and was able to get a genuine laugh out of me, helping her secure a shot. As I type this I feel like I sound like a four-year old at Sears getting photos with someone squeaking a toy in the background for a good laugh.

I digress.

Uncle Barry stated to Katie, “Now if you are really good, you will capture a photo of TR (that’s my Dad!) smiling.” She gave him an odd look and I am sure she thought to herself, “Why would I not? It is his daughter’s wedding day?” But, she did not yet know TR.

Here is the thing, my Dad is a stoic guy. He is a man of few words. Always has been. Never once did I take his seriousness in life well, seriously! In fact, we took his seriousness in stride and knew no different because that is who he was. I think it never really dawned us either because we grew up in a home filled with love and support. Our Dad, alongside our Mom, was and is our #1 fan. Now don’t take this wrong but we never equated his quiet personality with his happiness. So, don’t let all his seriousness fool you, because behind that furrowed brow, is a big heart. A really, really big heart! And, here is the thing… TR can be quite funny! My favorite is his ability to seize the awkward moments with strangers by making an absurd joke which as a teenager mortified me, but now as an adult I giggle at the exchange. He also gets a kick out of his kids for some reason. We just must be a bunch of comedians or something, because he actually fights back his control to laugh at us. Leading us to say, “Oh, come on don’t smile or anything.” To which he will typically excuse himself and chuckle as he walks out of the room.

We have this joke among our family about my Dad. We say if he smiles that is equivalent to a chuckle. If he makes a sound when he smiles, that is equivalent to your belly laugh and if he actually laughs out loud, well ladies and gentlemen, you just peed your pants in laughter.

Katie, proved her photography skills on my wedding day. It was like Barry put her up to a challenge she had to fulfill. I can just imagine her looking through the lens, waiting for a smile. She actually captured quite a few, because that day my Dad beamed a bit. Basically, we all peed our pants with laughter all day long if you equate it to our joke above.

It was my father’s idea to surprise our wedding guests with a choreographed dance. As our father-daughter dance to Tim McGraw’s “My Little Girl” started to wrap, the music cut into Sweet’s “Ballroom Blitz.” An odd choice of song but a song that was our song as I recall many moments we would blare the speakers in the car and sing along. We rocked and rolled and danced a bit as our wedding guests cheered, clapped, squealed in laughter or were wide-eyed and shocked, like my Mom, as they watched this quiet man turn into an extrovert for a minute.

So, my wedding guests, who truly know my Dad, got the surprise of a lifetime with our surprise breakout dance, our photography got that smile and I got this little gem to always cherish.

Happy Birthday to my Dad! While you often get picked on for being a man of few words and smiles, we know you reserve them for us and the best part is you give us so much love, support and gratefulness that we do all the smiling for you.

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Who Da Boss

May 2, 2015

7:15 am – Me: Looking at clock, looking at sleeping, peaceful baby, looking at clock, feeling sleepy, no – shake it off, look at clock, look at baby. I get up.

At this point, I had already been up early with Baby Lo, changed her, fed her and rocked her back to sleep. I contemplated, “Do I go to sleep to or take advantage of the time?” Time won over sleep. I took a 15-minute glorious shower, tippy-toed through my bedroom to get dressed (Baby Lo was morning cat-napping on my bed) – I even caught myself sighing at myself for being too loud, something I usually reserve for Nathan. I quickly, and I mean quickly got ready for the day. In those tense moments I realized something… this is her world and I am just living in it.

Yep! That is it. Having a baby demoted my status in the chain of command around this here house. Fellow parenting friends, lend me your ear, and just think about it for a moment. But, hurry as you read… you never know when the Boss may need you.

Strict Hours – Early starting hours and late evenings. Bedtime… we can’t push it. If we do, we pay for it with a cranky, crying meltdown. The Boss has strict orders. She knows her limits and we have learned from our mistakes.
Time is of the Essence – She does not mess around. Time Management is key to our success as a family. I wish there was a camera on Nathan and me as we get ready to go somewhere. She sits in her car seat, eyes moving back and forth watching us as we scramble – “Bottle? Pacifier? Change of clothes? Wipes? Extra blanket?” Once we decided to stop and have a drink by the water cooler (aka – in the kitchen) and when we made eye contact with her… it was the end of that!
Expects Us to Read her Mind – Man, I wish I had an HR to report to on this one. She is a lady of very few words. Very few. I stare at her sometimes and think, “What do you want?” Every now and then she smiles, giggles and then just loses it with a scream. I grab a bottle, a pacifier, do a little bounce dance until finally the right solution does the trick.
Demanding – She knows what she likes and the way she likes it. Swaddle – Heck no! Oh, you just sat down for dinner – Yeah, I smelled it cooking, I think I want held now. It’s Monday – let’s sleep in! Oh, wait, it is Saturday – yeah I am feeling this 5 am hour thing. We learned it is best for us all to go with the flow.
High Standards – Guilt. When I get home late from my day job, I feel guilty. If I need a babysitter for a few hour on the weekend, I feel guilty. If she falls asleep earlier than usually (rough day in the office) and I don’t feel I have spent enough time with her, I feel guilty. When Nathan rocks her to sleep over me, I feel guilty. Her high standards are reflective in the kind of Mom I am. It is a terrible thing. I hear it does get better.

The good totally outweighs any bad, my little Boss displays. She is lax in the dress code department. No such thing as “dress down Friday,” she is cool with whatever I have on and never judges, she shows compassion, she listens, she acknowledges our work with the best smiles and giggles, she generates a real happiness in our workplace, I mean home and she pushes us to be our best. The best we can be is because of that little lady.

Oh, and deadlines… I will take the late shift, Boss. You just rest your little head.

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This Is What Motherhood Did To Me

April 13, 2015

I once was a woman who kept up with her home. Clean dishes, folded laundry, organized cabinets and a made bed.

Now dishes are piled high as if the sink is just a storage bin. Our laundry sits in the baskets so long that it wrinkles to the point that I have to wash it all over again. My bed looks like a teenage boy resides here (no offense!). If I make the bed on Saturdays. It is a luxury.

I once was a woman who equated a good time with going out. Friday nights at home were lame. Dinner dates never began before 7 pm and always ended with drinks and maybe even dancing somewhere with friends.

Now Fridays consist of heels off, sweatpants on, take-out ordered and if we are lucky, we last past 9:30 pm.

I once was a woman who made a fuss over presentation. My home decor changed on the spot with the season. Even the simplest of get-togethers included well-thought out themed menus, down to matching disposable plasticware.

Now I consider myself extra festive with my new Spring flag in the front yard. It was Fall harvest themed about two weeks ago.

I once was a woman who found time for me. I made salon appointments for the latest ombre hairstyle, booked a manicure, did a little shopping, or a lot of shopping and always seemed to run out of time on weekends getting to do what I wanted to do.

Now I consider it a good day if my hair is not high atop my head in a messy bun, if both legs are shaved (yes, I have in a hurry forgot to shave a leg), and my goodness I felt like I went to the spa when I took some time to clip my nails and pluck my eyebrows.

This is what motherhood did to me. Motherhood turned me into someone else. Someone on most days that I don’t recognize. Motherhood took the former me and shook her up a bit. Rocked the ground beneath where she once stood.

Motherhood made me a messy house baring, pizza eating homebody who would trade in getting all dolled up for a night out on the town for sweatpants and a movie, holding her baby.

You see before motherhood the woman I once was cared about things, but that is just what they were, things. Everything that defined the woman I once was, centered around perceptions. I don’t feel like she was a selfish woman, she just didn’t know any different or better. Motherhood gave me the ability to live more simply and love more stronger. It allowed me to put things into perspective and see what is important. Motherhood said your dishes can wait but your baby will grow if you don’t slow down and live in the moment. Motherhood made me appreciate what I had and not what I wanted.

This is what motherhood did to me… and I kind of like it.

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To My Siblings, Thank You For The Lessons

April 10, 2015

I don’t really remember welcoming my Brother Tyler into the world. I was too young. When I think of us as young children flashbacks of photos I have seen over the years come to my mind. Burned images from times cherished by family long ago. As the first born, Tyler can be credited for giving me the title of “sister” that I get to carry with me through life. He was my first real friend, first best friend.

Like these photos? Bare with me. These were not ancient times, but this was long before any one of us could whip out a phone to capture a moment, upload to Instagram, Facebook and Twitter, develop a hashtag #SiblingLove, email out to family and then send it to WalMart to have the image printed and mailed to your home, because this is a picture that you actually want a hard copy of too versus just a plain ole’ digital.

Sometimes you can recall a moment in your life when a lesson may have been learned. That instant when you achieved a new understanding or appreciation. With Tyler, I can’t because I was just three when he was born. But I know now that Tyler was the one who taught me to share, taught me how to play well with others, taught me that life wasn’t always about me and taught me how to love in a new way. Simple things really, but crucial achievements for a child.

When I was six, Tanner was born. He was our blue eyed, blond haired baby boy. I can distinctly remember the day Tanner entered our family. I was in Mrs. Adam’s First Grade Class. I remember being in the hallway at our Elementary School, lined up against the wall, awaiting our turn to use the restrooms. I can remember seeing my Dad walk through the main entrance of the school and kneel before me. “You have a new baby brother. Do you want to go see him?” I am so sorry still to this day, Tanner.

“Nope!” I replied. “I really want to go to art class next.” And, calmly my Dad obliged. I later learned my Mom waited in her hospital room with her newborn waiting for her happy family to arrive to meet our new baby. When my Dad returned and explained I wanted to stay at school and go to art class, she was sure he was lying and that I was waiting in the hospital hallway to run in and yell surprise! No, I remained at school. I also, remember returning to Mrs. Adam’s classroom after art and as we started our math lesson I cried in the back of the room wanting my family. Or, maybe it was just to escape math!

National Sibling Day - BackwardsNHighHeels.com

Tanner was always such a happy baby, and again I must apologize because once a third was added to the mix I quickly learned what the phrase “third wheel” meant. Some days it was me and other days it was Tanner. Somehow Tyler always got a team! He taught me to fight and truly pick. And, while you may think, “Hey, poor, Tanner, that is not nice!” Know that with that came the lesson in learning right from wrong, your actions have consequences and how to make amends.

In fifth grade, our family expanded yet again. What the heck where you thinking, Mom and Dad? I remember being in class and getting called to the office. My mom called the school and wanted to share with me that we were having another boy, I was having another brother… another brother! I cried, and cried and cried. It ruined the rest of my day. I sat, this time in Mrs. Smith’s class, thinking “Another boy! Really?” Oh, how I longed for a sister.

Then the thought of being the only girl grew on me and then seeing him for the first time, well, I no longer cared about what might have been but was as excited as any kid could be. Turner was born just eight days after my birthday and we celebrated with our first official family photo in the hospital. It took my parents four tries to finally accomplish this feat!

Turner added chaos to our no longer “little family.” He successfully with his small little being brought complete strangers to bewilderment and introduced us all to a new thing – the double-take look, as my parents went into public places with their little “crew” of ducklings following behind. So, many kids? How do they do it? Things got kicked up a big notch on the home front and I can thank Turner for teaching me the value of teamwork as he evened the playing field. Turner also blessed me with the eldest sibling pride and a protection instinct that one from a big family learns they possess. Maybe it was my age that allowed me to realize that while we turned to our parents for guidance, siblings also develop a bond and reliance on each other.

I don’t know what made my parents think this was a good idea and I don’t know why I am sharing this picture with you. The suitcases were a nice touch though.

Then it happened… I was 15 years old. I remember this one clear as day. I stood beside my mother as she and I shared the bathroom to get ready for the day and she hit me with words, “I am pregnant.” I think my first reaction was an awkward you are kidding, please tell me you are kidding laugh. Although, what followed will forever haunt me. When she shook her head “no” and confirmed she was expecting, I cried, I screamed, I cried again. Worse than the 5th grader who just learned she was having, “another brother.” What was she thinking? Why would she mess with our already perfect “big” family? Weren’t we enough?

We did not speak for a few days, maybe weeks. Not because of her, but because of me. I held a big grudge. Then we received news that my mother’s already complicated pregnancy may become more complicated when she was sent to another hospital to run tests on the baby after some other concerning test results. I remember being sick to my stomach. Sick for my actions, words and thoughts from when she first told me she was expecting. I remember thinking God was punishing me and I prayed for the baby to be okay and for me to make things right.

It was the first time 3D Sonograms were being used and I traveled with my mom and got to see her… yes her! The sister I cried for some few years prior. We learned everything was going to be okay and my perspective was put into focus.

Alyvia, or Livy Lou as I like to call her changed absolutely everything about my world. She was born just a few days before my 16th birthday, so the whole experience with her was so different than my brothers. She became “my baby.” I learned how to change a diaper, rock her to sleep, give her a bath, make a bottle, all the little things that first time moms experience. She became the bookend to our family and all the worries and fears I had standing in the bathroom starring at my Mom who just announced “I am pregnant,” disappeared with Livy. Instead of “What were you thinking?” I was thanking my Mom and Dad for the gift of just one more. Livy taught me what a “sister bond” was. I had never known it before her. She taught me how to love longer and stronger and I credit her with so much of what I know now as a first time Mommy.

Today is National Sibling Day and while we celebrate our parents and thank them for their love, support and guidance throughout our lives, sometimes we forget the ones who also have contributed to the people we are today. You see, each one of my siblings taught me something along the way and they continue to teach me.

With our siblings we can have forever friends and supporters through this crazy road called life. I am so incredibly grateful for them. And, to my parents, who I have thanked so much throughout the years for various acts of kindness and lessons, I thank you for the greatest gift you gave each of us and that is each other.

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How I Survived The Market With An Infant

March 15, 2015

* I must begin this post with explaining the word “Market.” In my neck of the woods, we refer to a Grocery Store as a Market and we refer to a large grocery purchase as a “Market Order.” I work in the next state over from where I call home and I will never forget the looks on my co-worker’s faces as I casually stated, “Yeah, this weekend I made it to the Market. I had to get a huge Market Order so I am packing a good lunch today, girls.” Everyone stared at me like I was talking in a new language. Later I learned no one had any clue what a “Market” was nor a “Market Order” and had visions of me shopping at a Farmer’s Market style venue where I sent in a pre-order and picked it up. My one co-worker said, “I envisioned you in a farm field with rows upon rows of produce in crates.” Ahhhh, I wish. So, now that I set the vocabulary for my post, let’s dive in.

Yesterday I accomplished a feat. It was such an accomplishment that my exhausted mind and body are just now sitting down to write this post. What major event do you have to announce, you ask? Well, Baby Lo and I successful went to the Market.

You see up until this point, I have solely relied upon my husband for the market runs. While I was on Maternity Leave he would call before leaving the office and stop to get anything I may need which usually consisted of coffee (I was sleep deprived), water (I was always thirsty) and Oreo’s (my sweet tooth from pregnancy never disappeared).

Twice, just twice can I recollect taking the baby to the market in the last 12 weeks. Both times have been for essentials and no more than the Express Lane limit. In and out was my motto! Once, I attempted to take her for an order. I was getting her out of her car seat to transfer her to the Baby K’Tan and after realizing she had a dirty diaper and changing her on a slant in the backseat of the car, I was so tired and she was so cranky, that I packed her back up in the car seat and came home. We ordered take-out that night.

Let me tell you… I felt like the Little Engine that could. “I think I can, I think I can.” She just successfully downed a bottle, had a nice clean diaper and was in a snugly sleep as we walked into this new found land. By the way these three essentials are key. I had nightmares of having to breastfeed by the Frito Lays, so high fives for a full belly.

I sat baby Lo, who slept peacefully, car seat and all into the back of the buggy (Yep, shopping cart. You are learning quick, young grasshopper) and headed straight for produce. Have you ever grocery shopped with an infant that cannot yet sit upright in the buggy? Ummmm… newsflash, there is LIMITED room in the cart once baby and car seat are set down. So, to say I had to get crafty and creative with my groceries is an understatement. I somehow managed to fit all my produce and some additional items in the child seat portion of the buggy. I actually got excited over how I organized and utilized the minimum space I had. I know… I am weird.

Shopping with a baby has its major perks. Fear of a mid-shopping session meltdown and the lack of cart space had me on a mission and seconding the need for every purchase. No, more crazy thoughts like, “I think I will make homemade granola this week!” Followed by parking my buggy in aisle 5 as I search Pinterest for a recipe.

I did however stop with baby to gawk at our Market’s amazing selection of Izze’s. Thank you for NOW deciding to carry more of a variety. I only lived off these when I was pregnant with Lo. FYI – Pregnant friends, these are amazing! Also, if you find yourself say at the beach pregnant or hanging out with non-pregnant, drinking friends… these are your lifesaver. Promise!

If that is not enough to make you giddy, going to the market with a baby means extra hands and help from the people around you. I would have never described fellow grocery shoppers up until this point as kind and patient. Let’s just say if I was Nora in Christmas with the Kranks, people would have been paying me to take the last of the Honey Ham.

At one point I launched the buggy into the middle of the aisle as I scanned the shelf for canned corn. I know, daring. I actually heard the woman sigh very loudly as if saying to me, “Okay, move! You are blocking the whole aisle.” Once she saw I had a baby in the buggy, she actually apologized and explained how she, “remembered those days.”

Finally as my journey came to an end, reality set in about the same moment I was searching through the diaper bag for my coupons and money. While the baby fit so well in her car seat surrounded by the many items I was purchasing, how would she and the bulky disposable bags co-exist together in the buggy until I was able to unload. Let me tell you, I broke out into a cold sweat. And, so did other shoppers as people watched me unload the car seat, load the bulky bags that now took up all the buggy space and teeter the car seat on the rim of the buggy. (Don’t freak out! Apparently this is how I should have shopped with the car seat all a long.)

Walking out of the market, I just wanted to get home. Baby Lo was amazing but my constant worrying left me mentally exhausted. The funny thing is after I finally got everything unloaded and put away at home it dawned on me… I picked up nothing for dinner for that evening!! Seriously? How does this happen.

After rocking the baby to sleep, my husband and I kicked our legs up and dived into a hot dog. Guess what? I have always loved hot dogs, so life is good!

Spoil Away

March 4, 2015

I have been thinking about this post for some time now. The thought of it keeps nagging me. Often my posts are planned and other times they are spur of the moment, like this ONE. I was a blubbering mess when I wrote that one. It is one of my favorites though!

Sometimes a thought hits me and I jot down the idea to venture back around. However, this one, well this one, has kept coming at me like those “trust your gut” feelings. I will be honest, I kind of ignored the thought a few times because I was worried what people would think with what I had to say. Parenting can be so controversially because everyone does it differently and has their own biases. Then I thought, “this is my Blog dagnabbit and if I want to write about it, well I can.” That is how it goes when you are the boss. And, on here, I am the boss! 🙂

So, let’s go… hey, maybe it won’t be so bad?

The four words I really have grown to despise these days – “You are spoiling her!” I really don’t like hearing it. I actually hate it to be frank.

Can you really spoil a 10-week old baby? It is not like she is asking for candy when we go to the market to which I either immediately cave or say “no” multiple times all while walking the aisles listening to her scream and cry until I can no longer take it, finally circling back around to hand her the candy. It is not like I make us a family meal to which my infant turns up her nose, declaring McDonald’s and then I rush out of our home to return with her nugget meal just in time before she has cried herself to sleep. You see to me… that is spoiling.

Right now I have a little baby whose only means of communicating with me is to cry. She knows no other way. She does not know what a temper tantrum is yet. She is not crying because she wants something out of selfishness or neediness. She cries because she can’t say – “hey, mom, ummm… I dirtied myself, a dry diaper would be awesome.” She cries because of basic needs.

I will admit, Lo likes to be held. She is content in our arms. If I put her under her play yard or in her swing, yes, I gain about 15 minutes of hands free time to do something. However, like clockwork though, she will cry and I will pick her up. “You are spoiling her. She wants to be held all the time.” As a mom, it seriously goes through me like a knife. Yes, she wants to be held, but the root of it is that she wants affection or to be close to someone. Just like crying because she is hungry, tired, has a dirty diaper or is not feeling good, needing comfort IS a basic need for an infant. In my opinion, responding to her is building her confidence. She is learning that she can rely upon me and trust that I will be there. I am building her sense of security. Isn’t that the opposite of dependence?

I have been told I am spoiling her from responding to her whimpering too quickly. I should let her cry more before I pick her up. The fact is I see her hunger cues. She is rooting, sucking her hand or turning her head back and forth. Why wait until she is screaming to feed her? It is not spoiling when you know your baby and trust your intuition. Soothing your child is part of parenting.

Granted I understand there will come a day when my infant reaches toddler hood and she will develop a sense of what is wrong and right. She will begin to understand how her actions affect her world. She will have temper tantrums and push her boundaries and my buttons. She will then enter a world where I will comprehend those dreaded words… “You are spoiling her!”

She is 10-weeks old today, but 10-years old tomorrow. I will love her and care for her and savor every single minute of her because one day I may not be the one she reaches for first, cries out to for help, depends on for basic needs or sadly, falls asleep in my arms.The reality of it all is that whether I am picking up my crying baby from her swing or allowing her to softly sleep on my chest, she is spoiling me. And, that, I am okay with!

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Wednesday Wisdom

February 25, 2015

Well we made it folks… halfway through the work week. It was a big and rough week for me as I returned to the workforce after my Maternity Leave. Was it hard? Absolutely! Have I cried? Well, was Vanilla Ice a one-hit-wonder?

Yes! Of course. I cried! A lot.

The worst part was the days leading up to my return. The best way to describe it is as follows… imagine an amazing vacation, a vacation in paradise, the perfect vacation, a vacation you dreamed about and waited so long for. Now imagine the last day of that perfect world. You know that feeling? The dreaded countdown. This is our last night, last lunch, last sunset, last day without a care in the world… until we return next year. Now take that thought and multiple it by 100. No, maybe 200. Dramatic? Nah! The gut wrenching pain is real.

I have found comfort in quotes through multiple points in my life. Whether it has been times of happiness or pain; quotes have provided me with the eloquent words I wish I could say. So, it was no exception that as I struggled with my emotions, I found myself searching the Internet (I told you I was a Professional Googler – See Here) for something to grasp and make me feel better.

It is amazingly simple but therapeutic, so I thought I would share some that stuck out to me this week as I searched for the right things to think or say. I call this post Wednesday Wisdom. I do not plan on doing this every week, but here and there on Wednesdays when the urge calls. Hopefully, one of these will resonate with you. And, maybe, just maybe it will be the simple thing you need to get through anything that may be nagging at you.

Have a great week, friends!

Let this post be a feel good post. If you have a favorite quote you have found this week or one that you live by, please share below.

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Eating My Words

February 20, 2015

My little Lo Bug, as I like to call her, turns a whopping two months old today. Yes, I am shedding a tear as I write this. No, I am not dramatic and I am sure all my fellow mother friends out there can relate to this feeling. The feeling of time. Precious, precious time.

I can’t believe we have hit this milestone already. Looking back to the wee hours of the morning on December 20th, when she arrived, already feels so far away. Those first few days and weeks when I was really not sleeping, new to the whole motherhood gig and really just starting to get to know my baby, I like to refer to those days as the walking zombie phase. During those early days I paced the floor, doing the typical “mom” bounce that we all develop, shushing my crying little one, in sweats that I was going on day three of wearing (don’t judge!) and thinking… “I will never sleep again. I will never figure this out. I will never be myself again.”

Now I am eating those words and so many others.

“I will never sleep again!” Yes, yes you will. And, I have! Thankfully. No, it is not the same sleep as my childless self, but baby does adapt and start to get on a schedule. Some nights are better than others but you do find sleep as time progresses. At two months, I am still exhausted, and no, baby does not sleep through the night yet, but she is starting to sleep at longer stretches, giving me, some much needed shut eye.

“I will never breastfeed.” This was me prior to being pregnant and even for the first good half of my pregnancy. It wasn’t until I started reading (translation becoming a professional “Googler”) that I started to consider breastfeeding after learning about the benefits for both baby and Mom. I scheduled myself for a Breastfeeding Class during my pregnancy and that is what sealed the deal for me to give it a try. I am not advocating breastfeeding here. In fact, to be honest, I supplement baby Lo with formula as well. That is what works for me and you will find out what works for you too. However, I never thought I would do it, but here I am 8 weeks later, still going strong and actually enjoying.

“I will never give my baby a pacifier.” Really? Yes. I will admit that I actually thought and said this before. I always felt like a pacifier was an unnecessary soother and that there had to be other means to calm baby. HaHa – oh silly girl! Tell that to a Mom as she is trying to calm her precious baby that seemed to morph into a screech owl. Just kidding, people! I was also so fearful of starting a habit that I would eventually have to break. Guess what? I will cross that bridge when I get there, but for now, baby Lo is grateful for the binkie (what we call it around here in Mountain Maryland) and so am I!

“I will never figure this out.” Oh, my dear, yes, yes you will. I remember questioning everything I did. I think I texted my mother play by plays of every sound baby Lo made. I even recorded her hiccups once because they sounded so deep that I thought for sure something was wrong. I sent the video to my mother asking… “is this normal?” Then after she declared yes, I still asked baby Lo’s pediatrician TWICE, yes, two times people, in the same appointment. Oh, first time Mom worries. I am not over this hump yet, far from it, but my worries from yesterday subside for new worries, and you start to figure it out.

“I will never let my baby into my bed.” Baby has her bed. Mommy and Daddy have theirs. There is no mixing. I did not want again, a habit. Have you seen a cute little infant in sweet PJ’s with morning eyes and yawns starring at you from their bassinet or crib? Seriously, it is the sweetest thing! You want to swoop them up and squeeze them and snuggle all morning. And, that is just what we have done and do. It doesn’t get better. They get cuter! Now my mind thinks… they are only little once. Enjoy these moments. I think now is the part where I should state to learn about SIDS. Bringing baby into your bed does have its risks. You can learn more Here.

“I will never let myself go.” I did not realize pre-baby how much time baby takes from you. Doing my hair, make-up and getting dressed takes time. I will state again… it takes time. There are days when I debate how to use my “free” time to do dishes, laundry, watch an episode of Real Housewives or Gasp! take a nap. I threw this “I never” out the window the first week. Enough said.

“I will never put work on the back burner.” This one surprised me the most! During my pregnancy I was so proud to state, “I will take 5 weeks off and be back to work.” I thought I was superwoman. Many people questioned me and I quickly shot them down. Work needs me, I need work, I will be back just as soon as I can. After a surprise C-Section – Read Here – I was required to take at least 8 weeks. What I did not realize was how quickly I bonded with my baby and how being superwoman now has everything to do with her and being a Mom.

“I will never be myself again.” Oh, this one is a dozy. Hormones are raging the weeks after baby. Sleep, Ha! Who needs sleep? You feel so unlike your former self it is almost heartbreaking. Although, slowly glimpses of the old me started to shine through. The best part of this revelation for me is that my never statement is part true. “I will never be myself again” No, you will not. Why? Because you are a better you. I am a better me. Babies do crazy things to you. In a really, really good way.

Do you have any words you have eaten when you became a parent? Please share below!

Welcome To The World

January 31, 2015

I was 35 weeks the night I made my way to Labor and Delivery. I was scared. You were my first pregnancy and you were providing all the symptoms associated with early labor. All day at work I tried to hide the discomfort I felt, as lower back pain radiated to my belly and numbed my legs. In fact, twice that day I found myself in the bathroom, pacing, thinking “this baby is coming. I am not ready.”

I mustered the energy and composure to host a property tour of 14+ people. Walking the resort hoping my water did not break in front of a group of complete strangers. When it ended that afternoon I made my way, waddling, I completely agree with the description of a pregnant woman’s walk in her late trimester, and called my Doctor. “You need to go to Labor and Delivery.”

At 35 weeks the nurse thought I was just dehydrated but after some water and monitoring I was informed I was indeed having contractions as close as two to six minutes apart. You did not make your appearance though that night. Instead two more weeks passed. Some days the pain stayed the same; other days the pain intensified. Every day was different. One thing that remained the same… I knew you were ready to enter this world.

And, into the world you came, still early at 37 weeks.

It all happened so fast. My water broke just like the movies, which now makes me laugh, because in reading, only about 14% of women’s water breaks naturally. After a few for hours of labor, we found out a C-section was necessary. Looking back, I already find myself foggy on certain aspects of the night. Although, two moments are clearly embedded in my mind. Like looking through a blurry lens and watching everything come into perspective. The moment I first laid eyes on you as they revealed you to us from behind the curtain. Let me tell you now, it does exist… love at first sight. I also never knew tears like that existed. Tears that come from a portion of your heart that is tucked away, reserved for bliss. The second moment occurred when I first held you. Through the grogginess of surgery and medicines, my world stood still when I looked into your eyes. It was the first moment they locked, yet I felt like I had known you forever.

These first few weeks have been filled with so much emotion. Pure love, moments of frustration, immense joy and overwhelming exhaustion. As you experience your firsts in this world, so too am I.

Who knew you could hold a conversation with another human being without saying a word? Or develop this superhuman power of reading someone’s mind and mannerisms to know just what they need. Speaking of needs… it is the first time I have ever felt what it is like to truly be needed and the pride of meeting those needs.

Your milestones while small in scale to this big ol’ world are huge to me. The first time I realized you knew my or your daddy’s voice, watching you search for one of us speaking in a room and that smile, oh that sweet smile.

I have cried right alongside you. Rocking you. Praying for us both. Even muttering – “It is me and you, learning as we go. You have never been a baby before and I never a mother.” We always seem to get through though.

As a person who has always been on-the-go, you little one have allowed me to let go. It is the first time I have been okay with the piles of laundry at the foot of the bed and growing dishes in the sink. I don’t quite care as I allow you to sleep on my chest because being close to you is all that matters in this world.

I never understood living in the moment until you. It is the first time, the clock does not really matter. Time is just time. My day is based on you and your needs. No one else’s. It is also the first time I have felt selflessness win over selfishness.

We have accomplished a lot together these past weeks. Together we are learning and growing.

I prepared my whole pregnancy to welcome you into the world but what I did not prepare for was that it would actually be you welcoming me into the world. A world I did not know existed before you. A world full of so much more happiness and emotion. A world with fulfillment and purpose. A much, much, much better world.

Mommy Dear

June 24, 2014

I titled my blog post today “Mommy Dear,” because as the story goes as a child I without any prompting referred to my Mom as just that. After time, “Mommy Dear” must have wore off because my memory has always been of calling her “Mom.”

Although, I think back to that name and smile because she is so very dear. And, just like most little kids go through the stage of calling their mother, “Mommy,” then graduating to “Mom” when it no longer becomes cool, my mom however, for the most part (except those weird pre-teen years) has always been cool to me.

My mom has always been my best friend and confidant. Through the awful middle school and high school years with the petty girl drama, when one week you had a best friend and then the next an enemy, my Mom was always there. When someone broke my heart, it was my Mom who always came to the rescue to boost my broken confidence. For the not so proud moments, Mom showcased her disappointment but never missed the opportunity to show her love. And, for every proud moment I had, my Mom was my biggest fan.

Being the oldest of five, she not only gets to be called the title of “Mom” from four other kids, but she also gets the stress and worry that comes with being a Mom of five kids. And, as much as I praise her now, she doesn’t always get all the credit, but bares a lot of the brunt from grumpy kids. They say you hurt the ones you love the most and my Mom has had to endure many of our bad days.

But she is resilient and the most selfless person I know. Always giving up her time and energy towards her kids and to her loved ones. One of my favorite stories that showcases my Mom’s act of kindness was right after I accepted a promotion at the company I currently work for. I was heading in for my first day in the new role and had a big meeting. As I was walking into work I noticed blue streaks all over my light tan slacks. It wasn’t until I got in the door and a co-worker gasped that I realized my husband who is notorious for having pens in his pockets must have washed my slacks with his jeans and a busted pen. Blue ink all across my pants stood between me and my 10 am meeting. I called my Mom, because of course that is the first thing you do with a Mom like mine and she said, “what do you need me to do?” I knew I was pushing it when I responded, “go to my house and grab a new pair of slacks and drive them to me?” I work an hour away, but guess what without a sigh or complaint, to the rescue she came!

So, today, I celebrate you on your Birthday and say – thank you and mean it, for years and years of love. You truly are a dear Mommy to me and my siblings. We are blessed and lucky! Love you.