10 Promises from a Working Mom

Almost 6 weeks ago I put on some real pants (you know, the kind not of the yoga variety), packed up my breast pump and all of the confidence I could muster, and walked out the door. I drove to a job where I wear the title "Therapist" for 36+ kids, ages 5 to 18, who rely on me to ease the stress of their varying emotional disorders and trauma histories. I spend my days in therapy sessions, visiting schools, writing treatment plans, and talking frazzled parents off of the ceiling. And then I come home. I come home to an equally exhausted husband and two beautiful small children who need me to be ON.

Now that this whole working thing feels less "new" and more routine, I am able to step back and see the ways that this GIGANTIC life change has trickled down and impacted the various facets of my personal life. It hasn't been easy, big change never is. It has been scary and jarring, I continue to feel challenged and pushed and constantly wonder how I am going to make it all work. But I'm trying to go easy on myself - it feels unnatural as a woman to do just that, but I am trying. And in that process of trying I have decided to make a few promises to myself and to my family.

1. I will not worry about my "supply".

Norah has been exclusively breastfed her entire life. I am extremely proud of our nursing journey and would not take back any of the hard moments. With Jack, I supplemented with formula from 6 weeks on, but with NB? That emergency stockpile of formula has gone untouched. I was worried that working was going to screw everything up. Would I have time to pump? Could I pump enough? I am happy to report that so far, so good! But there are days when I will look down at the end of a pumping session and feel panic because I only got 2 ounces out of my left boob. There are days when I look at the clock and realize I FORGOT TO PUMP. But guess what? If I dry up, if I cannot supply enough, everyone is still going to be okay! I can overdose on fenugreek and squeeze in a midnight pumping session, but it won't make anything LESS stressful. Instead, I can roll with it. If there isn't enough milk for the next day, the nanny can thaw from the frozen stockpile. If the frozen stockpile runs out we can go from there... I will take deep breaths and remember that we are all going to be okay!

2. I will not get defensive.

I have found myself giving this big long explanation for why I am working. People find out that I have a baby and gasp with sadness that I have to be at work instead of home with my sweet precious little ones. But I am CHOOSING to work. And that is okay! I promise to own it. I am working because I LIKE to work. I am working because I feel passionate about what I do and it fulfills me in a way that being a mom does not. There is no need to make excuses and I don't owe anyone an explanation. As long as my family is good, I am good!

3. I will not try to do it all.

Jack was the "Superstar of the Day" at preschool this week. It was exciting for him but it meant that I had to come home, come up with a "nutritious" snack for twenty 3-year-olds, think of clues for his "mystery bag" show-and-tell item, and write down his prayer request. I felt like I needed to go above and beyond! Jack had to have the best homemade snack and the cutest print out of clues! I spent all evening making everything perfect and when I finished both kids were asleep and I had spent maybe 5 minutes with them. Jack would have been fine and just as excited with a pre packaged snack and some handwritten clues. We all would have been better off if I had spent my time snuggling with him while watching a movie. I will not kill myself trying to be the do-it-all mom. Ain't nobody got time for that!

4. I will make time for myself.

Because working is not an excuse to neglect my health (mental and physical). The 30 minutes I spend exercising will benefit everyone.

5. I will make time for my marriage.

When the clock hits 8:00 pm and both kids are asleep both John and I are ready to just check out. We are guilty of mindlessly watching things on TV and then before I know it, it feels like days have gone by where we haven't had a real conversation. I struggle with wanting to leave the house after being gone 40 hours a week but I refuse to not go on dates or make time for the number one most important job that I have. Being wife comes first, before mom and before professional. Time for date nights, baby!

6. I will not feel sorry for myself.

I am choosing to work. No one is holding a gun to my head. I don't get to feel sorry for myself when I miss milestones or don't make it to that class party. This is my choice and I need to own it.

7. I will let myself cry.

That being said... if I miss Norah's first steps or Jack's first choir concert, I am going to be sad, and that is okay too! Shedding a tear for the missed moments is going to be unavoidable, I will allow myself the time to grieve it out and let it go.

8. I will turn off my phone.

I made the mistake of leaving my work phone on over the weekend. Most days it doesn't ring past 5:00, but Sunday night it did. I didn't answer it, but I listened to the voicemail. It was a client, she was sobbing and begging me to call her back. I hurredly powered it down and threw it in my purse... Out of sight, out of mind? While I stood firm on my "no work on the weekends" boundary, I was thinking about that client for the rest of the night. I wasn't soaking in the last bits of an amazing weekend at home with my family, instead I was wondering if I could squeeze in one more quick morning appointment and if I could get a hold of my client's dad before he left for work. From now on, my phone is turned off.

9. I will say no.

I'm tired at the end of a work day. I come home and the last thing I want to do is deal with a naughty 3-year-old who is bound and determined to get his own way. Some nights it would just be easier to give him what he wants and survive the evening. But I refuse to let my exhaustion and my work come at the expense of the best interest of my children. Jack (and eventually Norah too) needs to know that the standards are still high. Just because I am not home all day does not mean that manners or good behavior are optional. I need to come home every day ready to parent. I will say no, I will deal with tantrums, I will be patient, I will listen.

10. I will celebrate the little moments.

Yesterday I came home from work to find John and Jack playing Memory on the living room floor while Norah happily played in her activity saucer. I dropped my bags to the kitchen floor and sat down next to them. Norah's face lit up and Jack excitedly told me about his day. I buried my face in fat baby rolls and spent the evening rolling around the floor playing peek-a-boo. We ate dinner in shifts, the house looked like a laundry bomb had gone off, and I sure as hell needed to be cleaning the bathrooms. But, I felt like my kids went to bed knowing that they were loved and that their little moments mattered. And to me, that was better than a family dinner and a clean house.

I'm not even close to having it all figured out and I keep waiting for the day I will magically feel organized. But as every work day comes to a close, I feel this growing sense of normal. I know that I am in the right place and doing the right things for myself and for my family. I know that I am growing a professional life that will make me proud, and I hope one day it makes my kids proud too. I am a strong, capable, and loving wife and mother. I will be kind to myself. Every day is a chance to grow, and I know we are all going to be okay!

The Big Lie of Womanhood

Last night a childhood friend posted a status on Facebook that said something along the lines of. "Apparently 25 means being surrounded by engaged and pregnant people." This status had over 100 likes and 20 some comments that said things like, "we're having more fun!" and "follow your dreams and have more fun doing it!" and my personal favorite "27 looks like divorce" (OUCH!). While this is not the first statement I have seen, read, or heard from a fellow female my age, there is still that tiny part of me that questions my life choices and whispers, "Am I doing it all wrong?"

I can't help but feel shamed by the 11,000 Buzzfeed articles about what I should be doing in my twenties. Because I have not travelled to 50 different countries, started my own business, learned to play an instrument, and mastered a foreign language apparently I am a failure and shall be placed in the shameful corner of women that are doing it wrong.

And then again I can only assume that these publicly proclaimed exclamations of having WAY more fun without a husband or small humans to tote around stems from a similar place of insecurity. Constant relationship changes to "Engaged!" or "Married!" alongside adorable (okay, probably annoying) explosions of baby pictures is probably like a smack in the feminine face - with a similar feeling message. You're doing it wrong. 

So that's the catch, right? No matter what, as a woman, you always feel like you aren't right, that your decisions are flawed, and that you are failing social media and the rest of the world by either having or not having weddings and cute babies by age 27.

Here's my two cents: We have been sold a lie. From babyhood on, as females, we have been told one giant, enormous lie. We cannot, I am sorry to say, have it all. No one can. This seems to be particularly hard to stomach for our generation because we really just thought we could make it happen - but we cannot. History and society and culture for all of time has dictated that no matter what women will probably feel at least a tiny bit guilty or shamed or wrong if they choose to work instead of have a family, wait to have a family, or have a family and still work. Women are also likely to feel judged  or less than in the eyes of the women listed above should they choose the opposite. The women who have families in their twenties or choose to stay at home with their kids will probably feel a tiny bit guilty or shamed or wrong for not being better "feminists".

You see, there is no winning. All we can do is support one another and let go of the who is right and who is wrong.

Despite the little nag of insecurity I felt after viewing the said Facebook status, mostly I was just inspired to ponder the changing definition of "fun". While traveling, building a career, getting drinks with friends, and living with girls instead of the same boy for forever and ever do sound great - my kind of fun has morphed into a walk around the neighborhood with my incredibly spirited and sweet 2.5 year old son. Fun is staring at my daughter's face for like 45 minutes straight and marveling at her pure and utter perfection. And mostly, fun is carving out a couple of quiet hours post 8 o'clock to sit and enjoy my husband on our back deck.

Is my fun more important than anyone else's? Nope. Does my fun sound horrible to someone else? Probably. But I've taught myself to love the life I have 90% of the time (because, I am human, and sometimes being a wife and mom sounds far less preferable to the independent life of a single woman in her 20's). We cannot have it all, we cannot be it all. We just need to be okay with that. At least 90% of the time...

Surviving.

Yesterday was my first official day on the stay-at-home-mom train. Now that school is over, I have decided to put finding a job on the back burner for the summer and enjoy my new baby girl and get in some quality time with big brother Jack. And while I hate the idea of leaving Norah home with a nanny so young, I am slightly terrified that I will not survive this summer.

Do I love being a mom? Yes, absolutely. Looking at my little babes makes my heart explode 10 million times within the course of one hour. But I also find myself thinking, "Oh my gosh, I have two kids!" with equal parts amazement/joy and fear/whatthefuckhaveidone.

Perfect example: yesterday. By 9 AM I was sending SOS texts to my husband. By 10 AM I was online searching for jobs. I felt like I needed an extra arm, some xanax, and an IV drip of coffee. Just to go to the bathroom, alone, I had to endure angry newborn cries and Jack banging on the door screaming, "MOMMY!"

But, you know, we made it. So what, everyone was in their pajamas when John got home. Jack was running in circles, dying for some rough house time, and Norah was in a fit of gas-filled rage. But we got through the day.

So here we are, day 2. Both kids woke up at 6 AM and I have a raging headache, but, I feel more ready to handle the day. Last night I went to bed with the idea of a schedule. Routine is going to become my best friend. So bring on the Pinterest toddler activities and lets do this thing.

"Proud"

Last week, on Tuesday, I finished my master's degree. Holy hot damn - what a train wreck! When we calculated my due date 9 months ago, I knew this last month of school would be insane. I was right. After an all-nighter on Monday and a long day of class/work on Tuesday I thought I might die. But I made it, and Norah? She slept 5 hour stretches for the very first time, allowing me an almost full night of sleep.

The craziest part of it all is everyone that keeps coming up to me and saying how amazing I am for doing it all. I feel uncomfortable, but at the same time, I'm trying to be proud of myself. It wasn't easy. Only taking two weeks off after having a baby is less than ideal. Physically, mentally, emotionally I still needed to be in yoga pants on the couch. But that just wasn't in the cards. Part of me feels like I could have saved myself a lot of stress by getting papers and assignment completed ahead of time, and that because I didn't do that I don't deserve the kudos.

That's the joke right? We push and push and find success but we still don't feel like enough for ourselves? I am trying REALLY hard to recognize my accomplishments and pat myself on the back. I grew a baby for 9 long months. I endured constant nausea for 25 weeks, bladder infections, low blood pressure, low iron, and 7 days of contractions - I did all that while going to class/working, mothering a 2.5 year old (that weighs 36 pounds) and trying to actively participate in my marriage. We bought a house, moved, made this house a home... When I type it all out it feels like a lot. But it also sounds like I'm looking for pity... or something like it. None of this felt like it earned me a "badge of honor". It felt like living through the choices that I made.

I'm proud that I have my master's degree. It is the "step one" to having the career that I want and I am happy and excited (a little nervous too) about the future and where that aspect of my life is going. I also know that it will make me a better wife and mom because I will have this area of my life that fulfills me and fires me up individually and separately from my family.

It was a BIG year. It was exciting and crazy and absolutely flew by! I cannot believe it's over. I cannot believe that Norah is here, that graduation is on Friday, or even that summer is right around the corner. I'm taking this week to relax and rejuvenate. Next week we will settle into a new normal and start making a routine - but for now, I'm just going to watch E!, hold my baby, and work on feeling proud that we survived this crazy year.

Norah Belle

Five weeks ago our "new recruit" came into the world and I am so in love! After a full week of progress-less contractions and two "false alarm" trips to the hospital, I woke up out of a Benadryl induced sleep at 1 am and knew it was the "real deal". Ten hours later, our little lady was born and it was honestly the most amazing and relaxed labor/birth experience I could have ever imagined.

That's kind of been the theme with Miss NB. Relaxed. She is so sweet, hates to cry, and makes the cutest little squeaker noises all.the.time. We aren't really sleeping, and it's been a really crazy 5 weeks (remember that whole grad school thing? Yeah, it JUST ended) but I am so obsessed with this daughter of mine! 

Jack is pretty smitten as well. He loves "Baby Or-uh" and pokes her in the face 4589234829 times a day. This whole family of 4 thing is quite the adventure, and I would not trade it for the world! 

A New "Recruit"

It's true, our family is growing! However, while my pregnancy with Jack seemed to last forever - my March 28th due date seems to be approaching at break-neck speed.

This space of mine has gone quiet, it's been easy to find other things to do. But I keep finding myself thinking that this time in our lives needs to be written down... documented.

This little plum-sized baby currently taking up residence in my body has been far from easy on me so far. I had to wave my white flag and call in for back-up (in the form of Zofran) at about 7 weeks, and still, the nausea creeps quietly in the waiting room- ready to strike if I stay up too late or don't eat every hour.

I feels surreal that in 6 months there will be a new child in our lives. A new baby to drink in - a new person to love overwhelmingly. I'm excited, I'm scared, and even a little anxious.

I suppose all there is to say is, bring it on!

Two.

Photo credit to my brother-in-law, Justin!

It's nap time around here and I just tried to settle a very excited little boy into his bed. He asked me to lay next to him ("Mommy! Bed! Pillow!") and I snuggled in close and put my face next to his. I told him the story of when he was born - how he was the most beautiful thing Daddy and I have ever seen (to which he responded, "yeah!"). I told him about his thick black hair and deep blue eyes. I explained to him that he wore a blue hat ("silly!") and he cried until I held him in my arms and rocked him to sleep ("Baby Jack! Sleep!").

While two year old Jack seemed far from sleep, I gently crept out of his room and closed the door behind me.  I felt compelled to watch the video I made for his birthday one year ago. The song in the background still resonates so true in my heart as a mother.

all for love
we become larger than lifesize, wondersome,
great in the eyes of someone.

Jack is so great, so wondersome, in my eyes and I see the same affections reflected back at me, and at John, each day. I feel great in the eyes of my son, and there is no better feeling!

Although this little space on the internet has gone silent for over two months, I couldn't let this day pass by without celebrating this precious soul that I have been blessed to nurture. The amount with which he has grown and changed in this past year leaves me full of awe. I know that this will be a reoccurring theme as each birthday passes by, but it's still such a miracle to me!

This little child that lights up my life each morning, each day, and each night - he never stops surprising me. The amount that I love him has yet to stop growing. John and I often lay in bed at night and whisper to each other about our overwhelming love for this little boy. It is truly a gift.

Happy second birthday my sweet John Henry. Every day with you is a day I treasure! 

Baby-Toddler Limbo

Jack is not quite two, looks two and a half, and loves to march himself over to the biggest kids he can find and try to hold his own. 

I like to think of this time as baby-toddler limbo. Jack is still a baby in a few ways. He still sleeps in a crib, potty-training is not even crossing our minds, and he cannot yet do so many of the "toddler activities" that you find on Pinterest boards and mommy blogs. However - he is a toddler. He walks, talks, helps when he can... 

Recently we (Jack and I) had a conversation that went like this:

Me: "Are you a baby?"

Jack: "No!"

Me: "Are you a little boy?" 

Jack: "NO!"

Me: "Are you a BIG boy?"

Jack: "YESTH!!"

Then, yesterday, while looking at pictures on my phone he pointed at every picture of himself (recent pictures) and said, "baby!". 

Even Jack is confused. 

This limbo time is hard for a few reasons. Mostly discipline and age-appropriate activities. It's hard to stay developmentally correct without challenging them or putting them into situations that are setting them up to fail. 

Jack is a short-tempered, strong-willed, sweet & snuggly, lover boy who gets M-A-D when he cannot figure something out yet bored in 2.3 seconds if something doesn't challenge him. 

My goal this summer has been to try out something at least 3 days a week. So far, so good- challenging activities are saved for the privacy of our own home, and easy/"safe" (As in, safe from tantrums) activities turn into outings. And, when all else fails, we just go to the park. There have been a few ups and downs, but mostly I am excited about all the learning and fun we have been having in the last month!

I've decided to start a series called, "What to Do With Your Baby-Toddler" where I document our activities. Most of them are obvious but I thought it might be a good resource for other moms with baby-toddlers of their own who are stumped over what to do with their afternoon. 

I get the tantrums, the hitting, and (GASP) Jack even bit me two weeks ago... but, as a good friend says to her toddler on the reg, "We are all learning". 

Posts to come:

Baking Cookies With Your Baby-Toddler

Planting a Vegetable Garden With Your Baby-Toddler

Going to the Museum With Your Baby-Toddler

Going to the Play Place With Your Baby-Toddler

Working Out With Your Baby-Toddler

Conversations With Jack - Vol. 1

Me: Jack, can you say "I"

Jack: I

Me: love

Jack: yuuuuuv

Me: you!

Jack: ME!

womp, womp....

Lovies

Day 9, Thursday: A moment in your day (this can be just a photo or both a photo and words)

Jack LOVES lovies. Each night he is tucked in with TWO blankies, his "woof woof" (stuffed dog), and his baby. Each morning he wakes up and has to take each one with him downstairs. 

I love watching him cuddle his lovies - he has a such a sweet and nurturing soul, as a parent I hope to foster that and help it to grow with him. 

 

Mom Group Failure

Day 3, Friday: Things that make you uncomfortable

Yesterday I planned to block off our morning/early afternoon for a trip to the local playground, a "picnic" lunch, and some ice cream. I would love to say I thought up this special little adventure all on my own, but in reality it was a mom's group "meet up". 

I tried the whole mom group thing when we first moved here. But Jack was too little to participate in most of the activities so it was a bust. This summer I thought it would be a great way to get us out and doing stuff when I am stumped/bored/longing for adult conversation. 

So, yesterday... the "event" started at 10. I figured we could show up between 10:30 and 11, you know, fashionably late and all. But I dragged my feet. Excuse my language, but that shit is awkward. I really didn't want to go. I knew I should go, but, well, staying in my sweats sounded better. 

I finally forced myself to get ready, pack a lunch for Jack and load into the car at 10 to noon. You should all be shocked that by the time I got there the playground was swamped (hello 80 degree weather in May in MICHIGAN). I couldn't tell who was the mom's group and who was "normal". 

I followed Jack around the playground awkwardly toting my purse and his lunch bag. I would spot a potential "mom friend" and immediately become the most awkward human you have ever met. At one point I was standing next to another mom and Jack slammed his head into a metal pole and fell flat on his back. The mom next to me said "Oh!" all concerned like and I started laughing. Yup, I laughed. Then said, "Might as well laugh and see if he decides it's worth crying about." He didn't think it was worth it and moved on, and so did the other mom. Whomp, whomp. 

Making friends really makes me uncomfortable. I don't know why. I think I'm fine if I already know somebody, but on my own I just can't make it click. I will keep trying. Perhaps I will go on time to the next group meeting... but until then, I'll just be awkward mom in the corner- heyyyyyyyy

Lets hope Jack has better social skills than his mother. 

P.S. I decided to do this challenge, but I am leaving for a LONG vacation TODAY! We are headed to Indy for my cousin's wedding then will be CARIBBEAN BOUND! We are spending Monday-Monday in St. John in the USVI with my whole family :) I may not be blogging every day, but I am going to try and get a few scheduled posts for the prompts :) Wish us luck travelling with a very busy toddler!!!

I'm Good at Loving You

Blog Every Day in May: Day 2, Educate us on something you know alot about or are good at. 

Dear Jack, 

It's been a while since I've written just for you. I think there are a lot of things I do well, but the thing I do best? Love you. I may not be great at discipline or patience. I may not always be the best playmate or chef. Sometimes I fail you and I can only imagine that this will happen more and more as you get older, but just know that the best thing I do every day is love you. 

There really isn't much baby left on you. Other than that buddha belly you stick out with pride, any trace of baby fat has given way to little boy limbs and big boy attitude. Still, there has not been one day where you do not bring a smile to my face. 

There may be some days where I throw my hands up and say, "Today, I will not win." Days where tantrums and naughtiness fill up the hours and my frustration level exceeds my ability to see past the moment. But despite our bad days, little boy of mine, you never fail to make my heart grow with more love for you. 

This morning you climbed into my lap. You rested your head on my shoulder and tucked your legs into a tiny little pretzel shaped nugget of snuggles. We talked about our big trips coming up. You asked where Da-Da was. Then you pointed to me and said, "Mommy!" and pointed to yourself and said, "Jack!" I excitedly exclaimed "good job!" and "smart boy!"and you smiled and puffed out your chest a little in pride. I live for those moments. I hope to make you feel that way the rest of my days. 

I may not be the best at parenting - but I am the best at loving you. 

Reprising My Role as SAHM

On Friday afternoon I turned in my keys and said goodbye to my role as "Adoption Worker". I ended my year peeking into the world of child welfare as intern extraordinaire and felt okay about closing that door.

My first year of grad school is over and it's more sweet than bitter. This wife/student/mama business is tough work, but I am grateful for the year of learning, friendship making, and relationship strengthening. Feeling this much closer to my personal career goals is pretty empowering.

But here we are. My first Monday as a stay-at-home-mama May to September. I've been in this role before, but it all feels a little different now. The 12-month-old baby I dreaded taking to day care is now a spirited almost 2-year-old with a lot of energy and even more mobility. 

I'm terrified! I legit feel like I do not know how to do this anymore. Our first day has us thrown back into a bit of a time warp, where we are still in our jammies and the house is a hot mess. I am determined to not let me summer fill up with days like today! 

We are hoping to start Jack in preschool this fall and that means structure in his life is going to take on a whole new meaning. So this SAHM life of mine will be dedicated to getting him ready, while having LOTS of fun along the way. 

Zoo trips, museums, playgrounds, oh-my! We are going to do it all! Maybe I'll even make a mom friend (or two!) along the way... I want to fill up these days and months with smiles, laughter, and a lot of memories. 

Keep an eye out for fun toddler activities that Jack and I will be trying out. Wish me luck as I brush off the cobwebs and embrace this full-time mama role once again! 

With a little boy as cute as this, it really can't be that hard... right?

The Kind of Parent I Want to Be

I'm in a human development class this semester. I've taken several of these types of classes before. As a psychology major in undergrad, learning the theories of Piaget and Erikson was interesting. Sometimes (often) I would apply these theories to my own life, but it all still felt so abstract.

Now, I am looking at it all through a parent lens. I question myself often. Question myself as a mother. Applying theories and techniques to the reality of my life as a parent sometimes has me leaving class with tight ball of anxiety at the pitt of my stomach. Am I doing the right things by my child? Am I nurturing him and disciplining him in a way that will help him to reach his full physical, cognitive, social, and emotional development potential?

So I thought it was time - time to sit down, think, and record the kind of parent I want to be. I feel like I often fail myself and fail Jack by not being the parent I want to be. I'm tired or busy... there are one million excuses to "let things slide", but does my child get to pay the consequences? I know I cannot be perfect, but I refuse to sop actively bettering myself for my family. 

The kind of parent I want to be is patient. I believe in structure. Bed times, bath times, nap times, etc. I believe that when Jack knows how his day is going to go, anxiety and room for uncertainty can be lessened. This is something that will always benefit him. No matter what happens in school or anywhere else, home is consistency and comfort. At the same time, I want to be fluid and patient among this structure. Things happen, frustration happens, tantrums happen - I want to be patient and allow my child to grow and learn. 

The kind of parent I want to be is understanding. I don't want to have unrealistic expectations of what Jack should be able to know or do. I don't want to set my child up to fail because I am not properly informed of what he can and cannot know, understand, or do. 

The kind of parent I want to be is present. This is hard. I have my own things going on and checking out is so easy - but my life and world outside of home is not Jack's (or John's) problem. My child deserves my presence. Getting frustrated or annoyed because there is not one second of quiet is unfair. I want babies, children, teens, etc. to know that their mom is there, present, listening, seeking to understand, and accepting them. 

The kind of parent I want to be is calm. Yelling - It's so easy. It's an instant release of frustration. But I am a model. I cannot get mad at Jack (at any point in his life) for behaving in ways that I, myself, do as well. When Jack yells "no" in my face I can't really get upset if I am guilty of doing the same to him. I have to teach him respect through my actions. Showing Jack, John, myself, and others respect is the only way my child will learn the true meaning of respect. 

Maybe this list is too short. Maybe striving to be a patient, understanding, present, and calm parent isn't enough. But if I can check those things off in every word, action, and gesture toward my son my hope is that he will know and feel my unwavering, constant, and unconditional love. 

Being a parent just keeps getting harder, yet more rewarding every day. 

I'm Scared to Take My Toddler in Public

The title might be a slight exaggeration, but somehow we have gotten to a place of legitimate fear when faced with the idea of taking Jack somewhere where he will be forced to sit still (i.e. out to eat, running errands, etc.)
This is so not us. Since the day Jack was born we have always just brought him with us. We had that little boy traveling to the lake when he was 2 weeks old and TAILGATING at 4 weeks... as long as he was safe and healthy and it wasn't an inappropriate setting for a baby, he came along! 
John and I hate to miss out on things, we have what we like to call FOMO (fear of missing out). I think a lot of people assume that when you have a baby you have to stop doing things. Sometimes, yes, we have to "miss out" on stuff. But those times are rare. 
So how did we get here? To this place of being anxious to bring Jack out into public? Well, I think it all started with that ONE bad restaurant experience. He threw food, refused to sit in his highchair, screamed.. it was a nightmare. Jack is usually easy/happy/fun to take places - but this time it was all different.  So we just stopped. We stopped going out to eat with him. Stopped wanting to take him to the grocery store. Stopped wanting to take him over to people's houses. And it sucked. 
And it sucks even worse to think about taking him on an AIRPLANE in May. What are we going to do?! How is he going to sit still for 6 hours worth of flights?! Are we doomed?! 
So last week, we took him out to breakfast. He did great. It was the perfect storm of hunger, quick food, a first taste of chocolate milk, the right toys, and crayons. But it was more just an "ah-ha" moment for John and I. 
We have to EXPECT him to behave. We have to set him up to succeed (yes, Mom, I know you have been telling us this.) It may sound crazy, but we are already starting to talk to him about airplanes. I know I really need to start taking him to church, and other places that require him to be quiet and sit still. 
I don't want to have that bratty kid who doesn't listen and has no manners. But DANG, teaching your child discipline is hard. 

Do I Get To Keep Him?

I don't mean for this to be super dark, but sometimes I let my thoughts go to a morbid place. I get scared and feel anxious. Blame this on any number of things, but sometimes I just get nervous.

With social media and constant news coverage and every day little tragedies, it's hard not to feel the fragility of life on a regular basis. 

Sometimes I worry when I look at Jack. Do I get to keep you forever? 

I have never loved the way I love my son. I can remember sobbing my postpartum crazy hormone heart out 3 days after Jack was born. Sobbing because I was scared of all of the one million things that could happen to my precious, wonderful, amazing baby. 

Now, 17 months later, I love him MORE. And that scared feeling? It's not so frequent. But when it comes, it's even more intense. 

I cannot fathom my life without my son in it. I cannot picture a me without him, or what losing him could do to me. 

Then my thoughts flip. What if I leave him? Of course I will one day. But how long do I get? Long enough for him to remember me? Long enough to see him grow? 

I want my boy to KNOW how much I love him, and be able to recall memories and moments that remind him of that any time he needs. 

So I can want and fear and worry. I can wrap myself up in a blanket of anxiety and let it smother me. Sometimes I do - and then I feel guilty. 

I do not get to know. I don't get to plan. I just get to trust and love and live each day. 

Bad things happen every day. But good things happen every day too. In times of dark thoughts and anxiety, I just need to take a deep breathe, say a prayer, and feel blessed for the moments I do get and the ones I have already had. 

*Photo by my Brother-In-Law, Dr. J. Scott

Mini-What?

With motherhood come a lot of givens. You deal with poop, puke, and drool. There are sleepless nights, sleepless days, and over-all "mommy fails". 
I gladly take on most of these mommy "badges of honor". There are so many things that you sacrifice as a parent and I happily make those sacrifices, most of the time. 
But one thing I am not ready to sacrifice? My automobile. 
I have said since the beginning of time that I will not be a minivan mom. Blame it on the minivan of my youth, with stale french fries and sunny-d soaked interior. Blame it on the memory of my mom and her sisters singing, "I'm Too Sexy for my Van" at a family reunion talent show. Blame it on the summer I spent as a nanny, toting 3 kids around in a minivan. Whatever it is, they are not for me. 
But this whole "minivan" assumption that comes with motherhood? I don't think it's fair! I understand that they are convenient, efficient, and easy. But can't an SUV be those things too?
John and I John is looking into new cars. We want something bigger that can accommodate all of our travel and the potential for a future expansion of the family. So an SUV it is! I am pretty excited... not going to lie! 
So the other weekend we went to test drive one of these:

Sexy right?! 
So Jack and I hung out in the warmth of the dealership while John walked around the lot. I was minding my own business when a 20 year old salesman walked up to me, introduced himself, and asked if I would like to take a look at some minivans.

Is this just assumed? I am 23 years old and because I have ONE child it's time to jump right into a Town & Country? I honestly have nothing against people who do decide that minivans are for them. Heck, I even get it! But I'm just not ready yet... maybe I will never be ready. 
But why does it have to be assumed?! I feel so stereotyped... 

Different

I had this post all thought out and ready to go when my sweet boy came over to me and gave me an unsolicited snuggle. He climbed up onto the couch, wrapped his arms around my neck and laid his head on my chest. It lasted not longer than 30 seconds, but before he climbed down and went back to playing, he planted a soft little baby kiss on my lips. I was AGAIN reminded (for the gajillionth time since Jack was born) just how much I love my life and this little boy. 
I keep trying to put my feelings into words and it just really isn't coming out right. I'm not looking for pity. I'm really not looking for anything - except maybe a place to vent some feelings. This is whiny and spoiled and I just want to say up front that I acknowledge that. I am so lucky and so blessed and I know that too... Maybe 20, 30 years ago I wouldn't feel like this sometimes. But now? When most people get married in their mid to late twenties and wait to have kids until their late-twenties or early-thirties, I feel different.
Sometimes I wish I was 28. Random, I know. But lots of women at 28 are married with kids. They are far along enough in their careers to have houses and dual incomes. They "lived it up" in their twenties. They did things right.
But then I get mad. Why should I feel like the way I am doing things is wrong?! Maybe I feel that way because of the sweeping declarations from every 20-something in blog land (married or not) of how you really need your twenties to have fun and learn and blah blah blah. I don't judge that decision. Sometimes I do wish John and I had had more time to be just us... but because we didn't, I constantly feel defensive about it. 

Sometimes I feel left out. My friends are "living it up" (you know, the way you are supposed to) and I have stretch marks and the ability to get drunk from 3 sips of wine. Do not get me wrong. I LOVE being a mom. I really and truly believe that I was meant to be a mom. I always have. I always figured I would be the first of my friends to have kids too... I don't know. I just feel like I am an alien when out with people my age. The "married friend" the friend "with a baby". 

I also feel like people my age don't want to read this blog. They don't want to read about marriage and growing babies and how I went to sleep at 10 pm on a Saturday night. Other moms might not want to read this blog because I am 23 and what could I know or offer that is worthwhile? Every time I see that someone has "unfollowed" me I wonder if it's because they can't relate to me. It's silly, really silly. There are so many wonderful people that read my blog. They comment and email and make me feel heard. I have made friendships that I treasure. But sometimes this space adds to insecurities. 
Sometimes I hate that I can't just go to happy hour with my grad school friends. It's REALLY really stupid. Like, the most stupid thing to hate ever. I am exhausted at the end of the day, why would I want to go to a bar and drink one drink that will make me even sleepier? I suppose I sometimes hate that I don't have the option.
This is sounding whiny and silly and whatnot. There are a lot of people in my life that I can relate to. On marriage, on parenthood. I know that someday those 28 year old women that treat me like I am 12 years old will except me as a friend because a 5 year difference in age is really nothing. I know that when John and I are empty nesters in our early 50's I will be so pleased that we get to travel and spend A LOT of time "just the two of us". 

I guess I'm impatient. I'm sensitive. I'm defensive of my wonderful life. Who knows. Maybe there are other young moms or wives out there that feel the same. Maybe other wives or moms, in general, that can relate to this. 
I'm going to pretend that at least one person read this and could relate and feels less alone because of it so that I feel less whiny/spoiled... 

http://thememoirsofmegan.com/

The "T" Word

From the moment Jack was born to this very moment right now, I have been doing a semi graceful job of "winging" parenthood. 
Sure, I cracked open a book here or there during pregnancy and beyond. Yes- I actively decided that I would make my own baby food and breastfeed. But behaviorally? I have been acting upon instinct. I know that I want Jack to grow up to be strong, independent, well-adjusted, so on and so forth... but I never have put a lot of thought into what this would mean from me. 
I don't think I'm doing it "right" all of the time. Most days I'm calling my mom or pretending like what I'm doing isn't reinforcing "bad" habits. From day one to today, I have been 90% laid back. Yes, for the first 5 months of Jack's life I was intensely frightened by the idea of SIDS and I still get anxiety when I think of my child near the water/on a boat. But other than a few neuroses... I haven't "freaked". 
If Jack hits his head I say, "Oops, boom." letting him decided if it was worth crying over. When Jack wakes up from his nap after 45 minutes, I let him cry until he falls back asleep, because homeboy needs at least two hours. The majority of parenting decisions have been based off of instinct.. and I would say that so far it's working for me. 
But what gets me... what really trips me up - is that my laid back, instinct driven, crying is okay and "bumps and bruises happen" attitude has left me completely unprepared to let go of my baby. In so many ways I still want Jack to be a baby. 
I look at him now, he's walking and communicating. He's the size of a 2.5 year old. He shakes his head no at me when I sing off key and he gives me hugs at random. This child, he is NOT a baby. But somehow, I just can't let it go! 
A month ago, we were in Home Depot buying our fake Christmas tree. Jack sat in the front of the cart, swinging his legs and laughing at his daddy's silly faces. The giant tree box blocked him from the view of the cashier. When the machine-like question of "will this be all today?" came out of her mouth, I jokingly replied "just this and a baby!". The woman craned her neck to spot Jack, looked at me, and said "That's not a baby, that's a toddler!". I opened my mouth in protest.. but couldn't really find the words. She was... she IS right. 
I hate that word. The "T" word. I've been avoiding it. I mean, technically he's been a toddler for over 4 months now, but still... he's MY baby. 
Maybe I would feel better if we were ready for number two - if dreams of another baby were in the near future. But that just isn't in our plan right now (who knows about the actual plan that will unfold      in the years to come). 
For now Jack is my only baby. And while the last bits of his babyhood fade away before my eyes, I feel happy, sad, bittersweet, excited, and melancholy. My love for him is still so overwhelming and it's crazy to me how my heart never stops growing for him. As he grows, from baby to toddler, from toddler to little boy, and so on... my heart is going with him.  Motherhood. It really is a wild, crazy, blessing of a thing. 

Doing it Right

**What do you think of Life After's new look?! I would love some feedback :)**
As most of my readers know, my family and I? We don't really spend a lot of weekends at home. We are either at the lake house during the summer, tailgating for Spartan football in the fall, or traveling around for the holidays. But now, we are in "home season". We nestle in for a long winter of weekends spent inside our cozy condo for three. 
This weekend we kicked off the season and we kicked it off right. Things like 60 degree weather and happy little boys make that much easier. 
On Friday I was able to run and do some errands on my own, baby free. Those coveted hours alone were spent at the eye dr, at LOFT, and at the salon. I asked for the random hair dresser I was paired with to cut my hair like this:  

I literally BROUGHT this picture in and showed it to her..  It didn't matter. I said goodbye to 10 inches of my hair on Friday. I only prepared to let go of 6, but hey, it's hair and it will grow. 

 

I'm sure I will be used to it by the end of the week, but I haven't had my hair this short in something like 8 years! My husband is still in shock. Poor man. He loves loved my long long hair. 

Saturday was spent taking a walk to the local park and chasing Jack around. That little boy could not have been happier. I was pretty much in awe of his "big"ness. I could remember sitting in that park just a year prior excited for the day Bubba was big enough to hold his own on the different play structures. Although that day has arrived I am so bittersweet over this whole "growing" thing. I want to hold on to every last baby moment he has, though they are now few and far between!

 

Lunch from our favorite local bistro, a three hour nap filled with blog design and relaxation, & total organization of our closet, the hall closet, and my school station completed the perfect day. 

Sunday was for homework, setting up forgotten Christmas toys, & building pillow nests in the living room.

John and I went out to celebrate with his Aunt & Uncle, leaving Jack at the babysitter for the evening. We enjoyed a fantastic steak dinner, wine, and good company. We capped off the evening with snuggles from a little boy in footie pajamas and Downton Abbey.

How is it Monday already? 

If this past weekend was any indicator of "home season" I am looking forward to hunkering down on home base.