a one year old baby girl.

her curls.
oh those curls.
her tiny nose.
& that profile.
that smile.
her smile, that is so familiar to everyone who knows her.
her laugh.
her laugh that is easily given
& so, so contagious.
her eyes.
those big, brown eyes.
always watching.
watching the world.
her long fingers.
those gentle fingers that graze my face each night as she dozes off in my arms.
her little body.
a body that is growing, each day, faster and faster, right before my eyes.

my baby girl.
a year old baby girl.

a baby girl that i love so, so much.
a baby sister that is adored by her older brother.
a daughter that is the light of her parents eyes.

somedays I'm so tired.
so, so tired.
the clock is slowing, growing faster, towards the morning hours.
& can't even fathom how I am going to get through the next day..
but then your little smile.
the way your arms reach up towards me as I near your bed.
the way your lay your tiny, soft head on my shoulder
& I pull you into my bed.
& we cuddle.
oh, how I will miss cuddling with you someday.
your tiny body, fitting perfectly against mine.

I pull the blankets up over both of us,
& just pull you close.
hold you so close.

my baby girl.
a year old baby girl.

you're my buddy.
& I hope it stays that way.

lately you have been crawling over to me,
using my shoulders to stand yourself up,
turning yourself around,
& plopping your little butt into my lap.
goodness,  i love when you do that.
& you just sit there.
content.
even if it is only for a few minutes.
you are close,
& still.

my baby girl.
a year old baby girl.

As much as I hate to think that you are getting older,
& these moments aren't going to last forever,
I'm so, so excited.

I'm excited to watch your personality develop.
I'm excited to learn about the person you are going to become.
I'm excited to see what your interests are.
what your dreams are.
I'm excited to hold your hand as we walk across the street together.
I'm excited to watch what you pick out to wear for school pictures.
I'm excited to braid your hair.
I'm excited to throw a sleepover for you.
I'm excited to take you to the movies,
just us.
I'm excited to get to know the little girl that you are.

my baby girl.
a year old baby girl.

you are special.
I'm sure of that.

A Second Set of Firsts

Obviously with your first baby, there are countless "firsts" that are experienced. There's the first time you hold a baby of your own. There is the first time you see your husband hold that sweet bundle of joy and feel your love for him grow and grow and grow. There is the first time you strap your baby in a carseat and feel a weight of responsibility heavier than you have ever felt before. There is the first time you see your baby crawl, say "Mama", walk, kick a ball, take a bath, slide down the slide, swing on a swing... and on and on the list goes.

I have experienced all of these firsts and so many more with Brody, my little bee. 

I was so worried before I had my second child, that there wouldn't be any firsts left to experience! I'm here to tell you, I was so wrong.

However, the firsts with a second baby are different. For me, they are less documented firsts, and definitely less talked about. There is the first time her brother met her in the hospital. There is the first time he shared with her. There is the first time I walked into the room and they were playing together, all on their own. There is the first time they fought over something. There is the first time he was excited for her about something she learned. There is the first time he helped her. There is the first time he stood up for her at the playground... and on and on the list goes.

I loved being a momma to one child. But, I feel like a lot of the firsts I experienced with Brody were for me. I remember reading and reading, book after book, trying to figure out how to keep a baby alive, and figure out what they were supposed to be accomplishing at what age. Then comparing my own child to the set guidelines, and the other babies around me. With my second though, I've learned to breathe a little and not pay as much attention to all of the stats set by other people's children. 

This time around, the firsts with Bonnie are for them. My babies, growing up together, with me as their momma. I'm living it, instead of reading about it. And that you guys, is a first for me.

honest, kind, thoughtful, and just so dang handsome

I remember getting into his car on our first time hanging out. I kept thinking about how surreal it felt to be sitting alone in a car with such a good looking guy. His voice. His laugh. His smile. He was so attractive, but at the same time, one of the nicest people I had ever met. We went running together that day, and after, just sat in his car, in the parking lot of a waterfront park. We talked.. and talked. I don't remember what we talked about that day, but I do remember how I felt. Excitement overwhelmed me as I tried to believe that someone like him could be interested in someone like me. He didn't take me home right away, so I tried my best to assure myself that this was a good sign. I wanted to scream. He was honest, down to earth, not full of himself, funny, and just so so likeable. Why was he interested in me? After that day, I was determined to become the type of girl he deserved. I found who I wanted to be with on that sunny August day, five years ago. He dropped me off at home, and while I held myself back from hugging the life out of him as I said goodbye, I felt like I was floating, in some dream that I accidentally fell into. I never felt so happy, complete, and focused in my entire life. I was in love. I felt naive to think so, and I wouldn't dare say it out loud to anyone. I am, and always have been, a sucker for love movies and love books, and I couldn't believe that I was finally writing my own love story. 

Meanwhile all I'm thinking is that I'm trapped in this hour glass, and that my babies are going to die.

As I exited that mall, in a rush to get home in time for my office hours, the eleven o'clock heat beat down on the three of us. I walked briskly to our car, let Brody out of the stroller, opened the door to have him climb into the car, pulled Bonnie out of her carrier, put her into her car seat, and closed the door. Already sweating from the heat in the middle of an asphalt parking lot, I broke the stroller down, threw it into the trunk of the car, shut the door, and went to the driver's side of the car. As I prepared myself for the familiar convincing I was about to do to the car climbing toddler inside the vehicle to get into his seat, I went to open the door. Nothing. The car was locked! My babies were locked inside the car and I was outside. Oh. My. Gosh.

Oddly calm for the situation at hand, I thought, wait, Brody is inside. He can unlock the car. After all, he was the one who locked it, right? WRONG! I begged him. "Brody, Brody, please unlock the car." "Here is the button!", I yelled as I pressed and dug my finger into the window, pointing at the button on the arm rest of the door. He looked at me, with confused eyes. What mom? You want me to push our fingers together against the window? Oh, okay. Wait.. that's not what you want? "Brody, the button! Press the button!" Oh, the button! I love buttons! Okay mom! "No, Brody, press the other button! That one locks the door." The other button? Okay! I will go to the other door and press the other button. "Brody, no! NO! That button locks the door! Please press the other button!"

As tears stream down my face in frustration, I realize, there are keys inside the car! These keys are my way out of this mess! "Brody, under the blue bag, on the seat... get the keys!" Mom, I'm not sure what you are saying, therefore I am just going to play with these cool radio buttons. Oh, what's this? A horn? That's pretty cool. Oh wow, I've never noticed this before... a mirror. Oh look, I can pick my nose and see it in the mirror. "Brody! Brody!"

I realize then that my phone is in my pocket. I also realize how loud my voice is outside of my head, yelling into my car trying to convince my two year old to unlock the friggin' car. As I try to call Jeff, the phone keeps going to voicemail... of course, just my luck. As I'm crying, calling Jeff over and over, calling his boss, calling and calling.. I'm just watching Bonnie's little head glisten with sweat inside the car as she stares back at me with her innocent little eyes.  Meanwhile all I'm thinking is that I'm trapped in this hour glass, and that my babies are going to die. "Please Brody, get those keys!!" Momma, why do you look so sad? Is something wrong? Oh yeah, there is a horn. Let me push this thing again. Wow, it still makes a big noise.

A guy walks slowly over to my car at this point. He asks what is wrong and if he can help by calling mall security over to unlock my car. Yes, Mr., please!!!! He calls them right away and I try to explain myself while I'm shaking and so upset. He understands and I find out he works at the mall and this same thing happens often. While this makes me feel a bit less of a crazy person yelling at her car with her locked children inside, I just want my babies out of there. It's so hot, and I'm so done with this morning.

Jeff finally calls. The security people show up right as Jeff pulls up (with his awesome boss) and unlocks the car. Brody immediately climbs into my arms with his innocent little face. Jeff pulls Bonnie out of the car, and things are okay again. Everyone is breathing, and I have the keys again.

Oh my word.

I'm on Facebook too much- guilty as charged.

& I don't see myself changing anytime soon.

Being a mom is extremely lonely at times... As in most of the time. And being a mom of young young children is even more lonely. Here I spend every single day doing the same thing- over and over. I wake up, prepare food, clean up food, pick up toys, read books, play with blocks, watch children television shows, kiss booboos, nurse a baby, rock a baby, sit with a baby... And on and on the list goes. While these are not bad things to spend my day doing, I do find it gets to feel very tedious sometimes to wake up and do it all over again, and again, and again. With the exception of a play date once in awhile, most days blend into the next- and so this is life. 

Facebook. 

Facebook is my outlook into other worlds. It's my way to vicariously watch other children grow, other than my own. It's my relief when I'm having a hard day and I can see that I'm not alone. It's my evidence that I'm really not alone. It's my distraction to get my mind off my mundane life in my small apartment. It's my tool to communicate with people nearer my age who don't make me feel like I'm talking to myself. It's my hobby of coming up with statuses that make light of some of the crappy things involved in parenting, or the crappy things in life. It's my motivation to take more pictures to share with all my loved ones far away. It's my escape to other places that I won't be able to experience for years to come. It's my entertainment on boring days when we are stick inside because of rain, sickness, or tiredness. 

I could go on. But I think you get the picture.

Am I on Facebook too much? Probably, but I don't care. I will never be one to try to take a break from social media, because to be frank, I like it way too much. I would be torturing myself.

I still set my phone down during the day. I still play with my kids. I still witness small sweet things they do during the day. I still cook meals (sometimes). I still shower. I still make sure my house is (reasonable) clean.... So yeah, I'm good. Nothing neglected, that I can tell.

Facebook makes me a better mom, and I believe a better person.

It saves me from depression. That may be sad to you that I can talk about Facebook saving me from something, but it's true. And I'm okay with that. 

Heres to Facebook! 

a plane, an airport, one momma, and two babies

Pictured here is the one photo I was able to capture at the airport and on the plane while traveling from Seattle, WA to Salt Lake City, UT. How was the trip, you ask? Well, we arrived there alive. That's what counts, right?

My mom and my sister drove us the hour and a half distance to the airport. With the background noise of a screaming child in the backseat, we tried various things to quiet the sound. He was mad that he couldn't get his sandals off, however he didn't want any help. He was angry that he had to be in a carseat, however he didn't understand why we wouldn't let him out. And on and on these scenarios continued. Meanwhile, we were all thinking the same thing... this was going to be one interesting trip, to say the least.

We pulled into the loading/unloading area and my mom and my sister checked my bags in at the quick stand out front. (However, it wasn't that quick, and the guy was rude, and I'm sure we were causing him a big headache with all of our special situation baby shenanigans.) Meanwhile, as they were checking the bags, I tried to reason with my sweet crying toddler, that we really needed to make our way inside the airport doors. After multiple tantrums during the 5 feet from the car to the airport entrance, we finally made it inside.

My mom knew that the time her car could spend in the drop off area was limited, so with tears in her eyes, she said a quick goodbye and left me with a baby in my arms, and a toddler on the ground, refusing to move. I literally wanted to quit this whole traveling thing at that very moment. But here we were, and time was ticking away. We needed to get to the gate or we were going to miss our flight home.

Long story, a little bit shorter... We finally made it to the gate in a little over at hour length of time. This trek included many "Come on Brody!"s, "We need to move Brody!"s, MnM bribes, McDonald french fry bribes, sympathetic looks from other travelers, and a sweaty momma who was wishing a stroller would somehow fall from the ceiling. (THAT was the stupidest mistake if there ever was one.)

We got to the gate, and we were able to witness a small miracle- a free bench that was meant to fit 4, but that I planned to fill up with my belongings quick, before anyone could sit next to us. I needed space. I just needed to rest for a second. As I sat there, Brody was amazingly well behaved. He watched the airplanes out the window and ate his food. I dug through the toys, snacks, diapers, and wipes in my purse and finally found my bottle of Diet Coke. Thank goodness. As I nursed Bonnie awkwardly, while everyone was staring at me since I was already quite the site to see, I just prayed that Brody wouldn't leave his beloved french fries, and would just give me a few more seconds to sit there.

All was well until our airplane arrived and people started to unload the plane. The ramp they walked up must have looked like the most fun thing to Brody, because he attempted to run down it time after time. After the 15th time, I put him into a timeout at a empty gate waiting area across the way. Things were better after that. After gathering up our things, we finally got to board the plane.

The seatbelt started our flight on a bad foot. Surprise, surprise. Brody wanted nothing to do with it... and so our trip continued with the same theme of the day...

While many things about this trip were not ideal, however I do want to mention a few blessings that happened that day. I didn't have to change a single diaper on the plane. My babies didn't puke on the plane, aside from Bonnie choking on a cracker. The lady we sat next to was a grandma and was more than happy to hold Bonnie while I tried to reason with my unreasonable toddler as he screamed the entire last 30 minutes of the plane ride. We got to sit on the front row of the plane. This 1, let us leave the plane quick, and 2, allowed me not to have to see all of the people napping being forced to wake up to the sound of my sweet, stubborn, Brody. Another lady was able to help guide Brody with her stranger danger power to make the walk to the baggage claim a lot quicker for us.

As we neared the baggage claim, we saw Jeff. What a site it was. He is so handsome, and he had the biggest smile on his face. After such a long time of traveling, I was so ready to not be a single parent anymore. We all missed him so so much. He took Brody in his arms, and Brody was my content child once again.

The picture above is of Brody when we are right outside the parking garage. If you look close, you can see a little smile on his face. This is one of the few smiles he had during the whole trip. We were finally together as a family and momma didn't feel so alone anymore.

Parenting Advertisement

Want to get thrown up on?

Want to get slapped in the face?

Want to listen to screaming until your head is about explode?

Want to get a few (hundred) nights of no sleep?

Want to then have to function the next day off of no sleep?

Want to try to control something uncontrollable?

Want to talk to someone who won't listen to you?

Want to clean up food from hair, bodies, and floors, over and over again, multiple times a day?

Want to wipe some poop off some butts?

Want to wipe some poop off some butts that are squirming away, rolling away, kicking away, screaming away while managing to get said poop all over you, the floor, the changing table, the walls, and more?

Want clean up some puke?

Want to clean up puke from bedding, the floor, your clothes, other smaller clothes, your hair, and give a bath to a screaming, kicking, someone?

Want to do it all again a half hour later?

Want to convince someone unconvinceable that they need sleep?

Want to rock, and rock, and rock an overly exhausted child to sleep because you don't know what else to do?

Want to try and put them down in their bed without waking them?

Want to feel an awesome cringing feeling when the moment you stand to set them down they start to stir?

Want to hear the screams start again when you finally set then down?

Want to hear those same screams behind closed doors for what seems like forever? 

Want to feel a great sense of loss at what to do when you finally give into those same screams?

Want to feel like your life is coming to it's slow painful death and that you'll never sleep again?

Want to feel like you need to be stern to not start any bad habits, and feel like you are the most unloving living thing at the exact same time?

Want to feel frustrated?

Want to try bribing and fail?

Want to try persuasion and fail?

Want to try giving time outs and fail?

Want to cuddling and fail?

Want to try literally climbing inside the crib with them to try and sleep together and fail?

Want to feel like poking out your eye balls is a better option than what is going on at the current moment?

Want to watch the night hours pass by so quickly and know morning is coming all too soon?

Become a parent! You get all of this and more! Better yet, become a parent of a toddler. Think infants are hard? Puhhhleeeseeee. 

*Written with the background noise of a screaming tired child, with heavy eyes, and with love at 4:00AM on just "one of those nights". 

#dislifedoe

I just need a little something more.

A lot has been on my mind lately. Bonnie recently hit the 6 month age mark and I've begun to feel stir crazy. I think a small apartment can do that to anyone. 

Before Bonnie was born, I felt so bored. Not a bored that I have nothing to do kind of bored, but a bored that I have many mundane things to do, over and over again. That feeling has returned.

Don't get me wrong, I love being a momma. I LOVE being a momma. On the good days I absolutely love it, and on the bad days I still really do love it.

I love waking up with my babies, eating with my babies, playing with my babies, going for walks with my babies... I love so many things about our days together...

HOWEVER sometimes at the end of a day, I look around my house at toys littering the ground, dishes in the sink, clothes needing to be folded... And feel like I got absolutely nothing done all day. 

There are weeks that pass quickly. We have doctors appointments, play dates, office hours, and other activities planned. But on those weeks where everyday fades into the next, feeling exactly the same as the last one, that's where I get bored. Bored of doing the same thing over and over. 

In those weeks I also feel tired. I know there are things I could plan, or create, to spice things up a little... But to be honest, I just don't have the energy! I feel like unless something like appointments or planned activities are already in place, it's difficult for me to have the motivation to want to add variation. Sounds backwards, I know.

So I go, day in and day out, getting the same things done, over and over again. Diapers changed, laundry loads switched, laundry piles folded, toys picked up, dishes washed, strollers pushed, groceries shopped for, mouths wiped, counters cleaned, floors mopped... On and on the list goes. And even though this list is long, at the end of these days, I feel so unproductive. 

I need more. And I'm not sure what that "more" should look like yet.

Should I get a second job? Start a hobby? Write a book?..

I find myself leaning towards another job. Just a very part-time job, a couple nights a week. This scares me a little, however it also excites me.

I think it might be the variation I need to escape from the mundane tasks of motherhood I find myself in. 

I imagine having a small job some type.. I would be able to get out of the house, without my kids. I would be able to interact with other adults and have regular conversations. I would be able to earn a bit of extra money. I would be able to come home, excited again to be back at home with my sweet family. I would be able to feel refreshed. 

I think it might be good. 

I hope these thoughts and feelings don't make me a bad mom. I want to be a good mom. If I could choose to be only one thing, I would, hands down, be a mom. I feel so blessed to have the opportunity to be a mom. 

But... I also want to be other things as well, at the same time. I'm naturally a busy person. It's in me to always be doing something. And while I was still figuring out how to take care of babies, my mind felt busy, so I felt busy.

But now, Bonnie reached that 6 month mark and I'm back to feeling bored and not busy the way I prefer to be- the way I am happy being. 

I just need a little something more.

How to spend a perfect Friday Night.

"Want to take a bath, Brody?" I ask, anticipating his usual response. "Noooo...." he replies, just as I had expected. "Want to help me give Bonnie a bath? Bonnie is going to take a bath." He looks at the two of us, and with a "Uh, yahhh," we head off to the bathroom. 

I undress both kids, fill up Bonnie's baby bath in the tub, and put Bonnie inside. I lift Brody into the tub and let the water fill up around Bonnie's baby bath. Bonnie is calm, while she watches Brody play in the water. Brody is so giggly in the water, splashing and pushing the limits to see how wet he can get me before I tell him it's enough. But it's bath time, so a little bit of wet clothes never hurt anyone, right? 

"Just on her toes, Brody. Just on her toes." I tell Brody as he fills up his special BYU bath cup and helps me rinse off Bonnie's sudsy little rolly body. She lays there, as calm as can be, listening to the sound of the water and of course, watching Brody. 

After Bonnie is rinsed, I lift her out and wrap her in her little pink towel. The kind with the pocket that covers her cute, bald, wet little head. Mmmm... The smell of a freshly bathed baby... I could die. I lay her on the ground in the bathroom and lather her with good smelling baby lotion. Now I really could die happy. She's relaxed. Brody is still content in the tub while I pull a onsie over Bonnie's head and get her into a fresh diaper. 

Bonnie smiles up at me while I snap up her onsie. Her body bends into a natural little ball on the floor as she reaches to play with her toes. I brush her fuzzy little head and feel how soft it is. It is, hands down, the softest thing in the entire world.

"Okay, Brody, we have to get your hair cleaned, can you help me?" Brody reaches his hand out as I squirt shampoo into it. "Rub it in your hair, baby." He rubs it in while I get the rest his body. Rinsing it out is always a time for Brody to be brave . When he sees me pull the water sprayer close to him, he turns around away from me and grasps the wall of the shower with his hands, bracing himself for what is about to come next. I ask him, "Brody, do you want to hold my hand?" He always does. His small hand grips mine tighter as the water hits his head and runs over his face. I rinse him off quickly and end with a, "Okay baby, we are all done! You did so good!" He turns around and his little, wet eyes slowly open and look at me. 

"Brody, are you ready to get out?" "Nooo..." (How did I know he was going to say that?) "Well, me and Bonnie are going to go play in your room, so do you want to cuddle, cuddle, cuddle? Or do you want to stay here?" With his arms reaching out of the tub, he replies with a "Uh, yah." 

I lift my big two year old out of the tub and dry him off with a fresh towel. I wrap him all up, and lift him so his head lays on my shoulder. He looks in the mirror at himself, all wrapped up in a towel and giggles. I guess he think he looks silly as we cuddle, cuddle, cuddle. 

Leaving Bonnie in the bathroom, playing contently with her freshly cleaned toes, we head off to Brody's bedroom, straight across the hall from the bathroom. On the changing table, I squirt lotion onto Brody's little tummy. He helps rub it in and anticipates my response of, "Brody!!!" when he sneaks his lotion covered fingers into his mouth. He giggles and I tickle him in return. As I snap a fresh diaper on him and get him dressed in clean pajamas, we go over his body parts one by one. "Where is your... shoulder?" "Good job, Brody!"... 

As I pull Brody's shirt over his head, he suddenly disappears! "Brody! Where are you?" Finally his shirts pulls all the way over, and I gasp, "Oh! There you are!!" What a relief. We giggle and I give him a kiss because he just the sweetest little boy I know. 

After retrieving smiley, perfect smelling Bonnie from the bathroom, she sits on my lap in the rocking chair, while Brody picks out a few book for us to read. Always included in his pile is, Mr. Brown Can Moo. Can You?. I'll be honest with you, I read this book reallyyyyy well. So well, and with such rhythm, that Brody dances the whole time we read it, every time. 

As we turn the pages, trying to avoid Bonnie's reaching hands attempting to eat the books, the three of us sit in the rocking chair, reading together. Just me and my babies...

... this is what I call a perfect Friday night. 

Some things I want to remember...

The way Brody says, "Nooooo..." in his little sing-song voice. 

How when I'm holding Bonnie upright in my arms, she hugs me tightly and buries her face in my shoulder when she gets happy or excited at something. 

When Brody acts possessive over his toys, but then agrees to share one with Bonnie, even one of his favorites sometimes. He holds it close to her hand and waits as she eventually grabs it from him slowly. 

The way I can easily make Bonnie have a big smile when I say, "Bop, Bop, Bop." 

As we get ready to go somewhere, Brody is known to race to his room real quick, open up his sock drawer, and insist on wearing socks on his hands to wherever we are off to. 

How Brody says, "Hat-ie" for hat. And how he loves to wear some type of a hat most places (just like Dada), even if it is his bike helmet. 

How Bonnie likes being bounced to sleep each night in my arms. I commonly am seen bouncing my brains out at the edge of couch while watching TV in the evenings with Jeff.

The way Brody puts one hand in his high chair tray and says, "Upee" to let is know that he wants a snack. 

The only time Brody will snuggle (aside from being sick) is when he is playing a game on my phone. He will sit on my lap and lay back against my body. This is a time I give him many kisses. 

He curls and crosses his toes when he plays phone games too. His toes melt my heart. 

When Bonnie is all wrapped up in her swaddler, many times her tiny fingers stick out of the bottom of the arm wrap part. They tickle my stomach when I'm feeding her or cuddling her. 

When Bonnie reaches her arms out to touch my face. Her hands are the softest and when she touches me with her small, gentle fingers, it gives me the sweetest feeling.

Brody gives Bonnie kisses. This doesn't happen all of the time, but when it does, he bends down, puckers his little lips, and gives her a quick kiss on the top of her head. It's adorable and makes me really happy. 

Just let me tell you a bit about my little girl...

This little girl is perfect to me- from her cute round cheeks to her slightly turned up nose- I love her so so dearly. Dearly is a cliche word, I know, but it describes my love for her with exactness. I just want to squeeze her up and never let her go. 

She is so understanding, even at a young age of almost six months. With being a second child, she has learned to be patient quickly. 

While her brother is a daddy's boy through and through, I'm fully enjoying the fact that she seems to be favoring me. I'll hold her and love her as much as I can for I know that at some point that all might change a bit. 

She likes to sleep in later than anyone else in the house. (Well, later than Brody, which means when he is up, Jeff and I are up... Not so much by choice.) When I hear her sweet coo on the monitor I always walk in to see my happy little girl laying on our bed in the middle of all of our blankets. It's my favorite sight- her excited little smile. 

She still fits in my wrap. Oh thank goodness, because holding her close to my body gives me one of my favorite feelings in the world. Whether she is sleeping there, or just hanging out, she's content. And so am I- we have each other. 

I'm so grateful for this beautiful little girl. She is starting to develop a sense of humor and making her laugh is my new favorite hobby.

Bonnie Cait. I love that I get to call her my daughter forever.

Each evening I hold her until she's fast asleep in my arms. And while I know that I am not creating perfect habits, I just like knowing that she comfortable in my arms, and if that is how she wants to fall asleep right now, then that is okay. My baby girl won't be this small, sweet size forever. I will cherish these sweet sleepy moments. My little girl.

Two Years of Being a Momma

Brody,

You are two years old today. I could easily write about how this time has went by so fast and how I can't believe you are a two whole years old already... But actually, two years feels just about right. 

... I'm so thankful for that. 

When you were handed to me on that memorable evening that I became a mom, my life changed. My life became a bit slower and a bit more important. Each day since the day you were born I'm reminded constantly of how time passes with or without me noticing. I never want to stop noticing time passing while I am a mom.

I am not about to say that each moment of motherhood is packed full of rainbows and butterflies, but I will say each moment is filled with lessons and memories. I am so thankful I get to have so many memories with you as a part of them.

Brody, you have changed my life for the better. Before becoming a mom there were so many things I was unsure of. Would I continue my education? Would I start a career? Would I live in the city? Would I start my own business? Would I speed on the highway? Would I cheat on a test? Many, many things were harder for me back then, until I became your mom. As you were placed in my arms that day, two years ago, the stars aligned for the first time in my life. Things became clearer when I became your mom.

Life immediately felt different that day. As I felt your soft skin and looked into your perfect little eyes, I realized that I was important. I thought I knew what importance was before, but that day I learned a whole new meaning of the word. The responsibility, patience, and integrity that comes within that word was clear to me at that moment. 

From that day on, my life became about you. These past two years I've lived this new, wonderful, life of motherhood. A day hasn't passed that I haven't been able to kiss your sweet face or hug your cute little body. 

I know that someday will come that this won't be possible. You'll move away from the comfort of our home and perhaps a call on the phone is the closest thing I'll have to a goodnight hug. I hope with all my heart that when that day comes, I can look back and know that I did my best to make each day count. I hope that I can say that time went by as fast as it should. I hope that I won't feel too sad that that chapter is over, but rather I hope I will feel comfort knowing I was blessed with the experience of motherhood. 

Brody, you made me a mommy. And for that, I am so thankful. It's the most important role I could ever hold during this life. Learning how to raise you is the hardest thing I have ever had to do. But at the same time, it's the most rewarding thing I've get been able to experience. 

Today I was teaching you how to push, one at a time, the peddles on the new little red tricycle we got you for your Birthday. I would repeat push, push, push over and over to help remind you what we were doing in order for you to move down the sidewalk. Every so often I would let go of the front of your bike and you would be moving, all on your own, until you would forgot again and you would come to stop. Your cute little face,under your helmet, would look up at me wondering what we were supposed to do next. And we would start again.

I love being that person you look up to when you get unsure of something. As your mom, I want to be a person worth looking up to. As we travel down the sidewalk of life together, I promise to always be there to remind you and help you along the way. 

I love you little bee. Happy Birthday! I have loved the past two years of my life and you are to thank for that.

Love,

Momma

Maybe if towels didn't exist, marriage might be a little bit easier.

As I walk into the bathroom the familiar hand towel is strewn across the counter. How in the world is a towel, meant to be used to dry your hands, supposed to get dry in time for the next use if it's left in a jumbled mess and not hung up?

At least it's better than having a huge bath towel taken out of the drawer (instead of the hand towel) to be used as a hand towel, and yes still left in the counter in a jumbled mess. Isn't the size a dead give away as to what the different towels are meant to be used for??

Speaking of different sizes of towels... Let's walk ourselves into the kitchen. We have two types of towels- hand towels and dish cloths. Hand towels are again, meant to be used to dry your hands. They are NOT to be used like a dish cloth. Therefore I should never see a hand towel drenched in gross whatever water and draped across the sink. Save me.

Furthermore, towels should never, and I mean never, be left with pieces of food inside of them. Thank you for doing the dishes, but seriously if I have to lift one more dish cloth that is left in the sink and find myself sprinkling mysterious food particles everywhere I'm going to scream!

One more thing to do with towels. These are ones commonly found in the bedroom. Bath towels don't belong on the floor. (Neither do dirty clothes for that matter.) I don't enjoy cleaning up toys off the floor, but I have learned to except that aspect of my everyday life. However, I definitely don't enjoy cleaning up adult sized towels off the ground that have been previously used. And hey, bath towels could be used more than once to lessen my laundry loads- wouldn't that be a concept. 

We won't name any names here. I'll let you use your imagination. 

Oh, towels.

#momlife

I probably shouldn't admit that the following event really happened, but I'm going to in order to describe some of the things us moms do in desperate situations... At least I hope a few other moms can relate with similar experiences. There is a good chance though that I might be the only one insane enough to let something like this happen.

Here it goes: 

Bonnie sleeps in our bed. I love being able to cuddle my babe all through the night. I may even be able to say that I love the restful nights I get by doing so even more. Anyway though, whenever she wakes up, I just pull her close to me and feed her. This is usually a perfect situation- she falls back to sleep, and therefore I fall back to sleep. Works like a charm every time... Well, except for last night.

So in the middle of night, I pulled Bonnie close and she started to eat. She must have been asleep for quite awhile before that because she started to experience  "the flood" of milk- so much that she started to gag. Oh no. Please, please no. And then cough, cough, whoosh, I then experienced "the flood" of milk, otherwise known as throw up.

Both my shirt and the sheets underneath me were sopping in warm liquid. Bonnie somehow was dry. (She has perfected the projectile technique in her short 2.5 months of life.) As I lay there, my eyes so tired I could barely keep them open, I thought, "Why me? Why this? Why now?" I got up, noticed how my baby was somehow now sound asleep, noticed how Jeff was still sound asleep, and left them both to change my shirt.

Now the question remained- Do I wake them both up by turning on the light, getting them out of bed, removing the wet sheets and mattress cover, putting on clean sheets, and praying that Bonnie will fall easily back to sleep? My tired self answered with a "Um, I don't think so."

So I solved my problem with the next best thing- two towels. One to soak up as much milky puke as I could, and one to lay right underneath us. Yes, on top of the remaining puke. 

And that's how we slept. 

Honestly, this decision felt absolutely logical in the dead of the night last night. Completely logical until I woke up this morning and remembered why I was laying on top of a towel. 

Yup, that happened last night. I slept with puke. 

#momlife

But gosh, she's so worth it.

a momma's identity

I have to say it- I just love being pregnant. When I'm pregnant I feel so happy carrying my little inside of me twenty-four hours a day. I feel proud to wear my belly out places and enjoy the extra attention I get for it.

When I'm not pregnant anymore, I find myself yearning for those same pregnancy feelings that I love.

This "wishing to be pregnant" feeling comes strongest at the rare times I'm out in public without my kids. I have a "baby face", as some would say, and I doubt that any stranger would guess that I had two of my own babies waiting for me at home. It has been a common thing for people to guess that both of my younger sisters are actually older than me. We all three think this is funny, but are very used to it.

With this being so though, when I don't have my kids with me, I don't think that anyone would think that I was a mom. And I am a mom. And I am so proud of that fact. It's my favorite identity- my momma identity.

However, when I'm pregnant- everybody knows. They see my baby bump and ask questions, or they don't ask questions, but I am just content that they know. This makes me so happy and so proud.

I love being a momma and I want everyone to know it. When I feel like people are looking at me like a regular person, and not a mom, it somehow makes me feel weird, because I feel like they should know. When checking out alone at the grocery store, I feel the urge to say, "Plastic please, and also, I'm a mom!"

I've never really done this, obviously, but I honestly get the urge to.

So my pregnant belly fixes these urges, and I love it. I love being pregnant. I love being a momma. Everyday I wake up and know that I'm doing exactly what I'm supposed to be doing with my life- living and loving these two beautiful babies.

timeouts

Now that Brody is at the age where he is starting to understand right from wrong, parenting life has all of a sudden become a whole lot harder. He likes to push the limits. For example, if I tell him not to touch the TV, he will look me in the eye, and touch the screen as gently as he can with one little chubby finger. Another example is if I tell him to not hit, he will softly tap the thing or person he had decided to hit with a big smile on his face like he wants me to know that it is "nice hitting", not "real hitting". He is like this in many different scenarios, and let me tell you, it can drive me crazy at times.

Right now a speech pathologist comes to our house every other week to work with Brody. He is still not talking, so when I took him in for his 18 month check up, the doctor thought that it would be beneficial for him to be a part of this program.We'll see if it helps... it's been three months and we haven't seen much progress in the speech department.

The program believes that working on daily struggles with the child (such as hitting, screaming, throwing food, etc) in certain ways will help him in his speech development at the same time. She suggested that we try putting Brody in timeout. Before she visited at house, I hadn't thought much of trying timeouts with Brody because he seemed like he was too young and couldn't understand consequences yet. However she thought it was a good idea, and hey, who am I to question the expert?

So for the two weeks following that meeting that she had suggested timeouts, I was a strict "timeout giver". If he started to scream, hit me, or disobeyed, away he went to his room. It was awful! As time went on I felt as though life at home was just horrible. Brody never wanted to come to me. He didn't want to play with me anymore. He was overall more angry all of the time, which led to more screaming, more hitting, and more disobeying.

I noticed a change in myself as well. I felt myself becoming obsessed with punishment. If he did anything wrong, I immediately jumped up to correct him. I was starting to ignore the times when he simply just needed a hug. I began to not care. The fact that he was disobeying me and needed correction became more important than anything else that may be going on in that moment. 

Not only with Brody, but problems started to arise even with my relationship with Jeff. I started to blame anything that Brody did wrong on Jeff. If he was screaming at Jeff, I would immediately start to nag him with a phrase that sounded like, "Well its because YOU did ______ and are not doing ____." This made Jeff become defensive and everything would get worse and worse as the night continued.

Eventually though, a thought came to me that said, "What are you doing Karli? You are this little boy's mom. He needs a mom who loves him. He needs the person that is around him all the time to not be an angry person all the time."

Don't get me wrong, I don't think that there was any amount of time that I didn't love Brody, but my approach to parenting had gone in the wrong direction.

After this realization, I decided that timeouts were not helping. They were not only making Brody mad all of the time, me mad all of the time, and Jeff mad all of the time, but they were making our whole home life just... horrible. I can honestly say that after getting rid of the timeout technique, life has became extremely less stressful.

I will never know if this is because things had to become bad, and Brody had to experience a bad consequence to make him act better. I also will never know if maybe just my change of heart and perspective that came from giving all of those timeouts made things better. So maybe, after all, the timeouts had done some good. All I do know though, is after taking them away and focusing on love has made all of the difference in our house.

Another thing I realized through this experience is that one area I was lacking is to give Brody his individual attention. I caught myself getting so wrapped up in Bonnie's schedule, in my office job work, and in keeping the house in order that I was forgetting about the part of my day that I just sit on the floor and play with Brody's cars with him, or when I take him in my lap and read him a story.

I've since fixed these parts of my day and Brody is a much happier and content little toddler. Gosh, I love him so much.

The last thing that I'd like to mention about these timeouts is the sad feeling I'd get as I started to believe that Brody truly hated me. This sounds so sad, and honestly, it is so sad. He literally didn't want anything to do with me. He would choose anyone, or anything, over his momma. And while I kept telling myself that this was all worth it, and that being a parent was just hard so this was just part of it, I kept not truly believing these things.

We are now slowly fixing the friendship we once had. I know that I can't always be my kids best friend, but I know that I do want them to love me. In order for this to happen I know that I need to show them that I love them just as much. Now each time he decides to hit, we turn the situation into a time to hug it out, and end with a little kiss. I try to explain and show him how hitting makes me feel and how it is a sad thing to do. I'm relieved to say that the hitting has decreased dramatically since those dreadful timeout days.

I don't think that timeouts are a bad thing. I think that they can still serve their purpose. I predict that someday they will serve their purpose for us, just not today. I don't think Brody is ready, and may not be for awhile.

Gosh, parenting is hard. When you think you have found the solution for something... guess again, things change and you are back to ground zero. The only thing that gets me through this frustration is remembering that there always can be something to learn from each of these trials and errors.

Priorities.

If I had known three years ago that the clothes I would buy then would be the same clothes that I would still be wearing now, I wonder if I would have chosen differently... The clothes that i had once purchased for dates, parties, and dancing, are the same clothes that now get spit up on daily, are worn with leggings most days, and get washed with free and clear baby detergent.

College life is hard. We are so dang poor. I never could have guessed three years ago that I would be someday be living paycheck to paycheck from a part-time job at McDonalds. Not to mention relying on that same paycheck to provide for four people.

One of Brody's favorite activities is to go to the playland at the mall. He also enjoys running down the mall, past all of the store windows, and waving with his wild arm at all of the workers standing outside the storefronts. As I follow my little wondering man, I sometimes look at the mannequins dressed in the latest fashions and dream of the day that I can wear new clothes again, without guilt.

I remember before the days of marriage and responsibility, when I worked at American Eagle, I would spend my nearly every paycheck on clothes. And I wouldn't feel bad about it, at all. Now, when I see something cute that I'd love to get, a million thoughts go through my head about what else that money could, and should, go towards.

Don't get me wrong, I am not writing this post to sound sad and naked... I'm just writing my thoughts about the different lifestyle I live than the one I lived three short years ago. Actually, I can honestly say that I am so much happier now than ever before.

I may not have new fashionable clothes each new season. I may not have my nails done and a fresh pedicure each month. I may not have highlights in my hair and a fresh cut every six weeks. I may not have a membership at the local tanning salon. But you know what? I do have a lot of other things that I didn't have three short years ago.

I have a husband, one that works his butt off for our family every single day. I have a college degree, and absolutely no debt to go along with it. (Thanks to hard work and my parents.) I also have two adorable babies who needs always come first.

I feel so blessed everyday for the opportunity that Jeff and I have had to go and further our education. It is hard work and takes a lot of sacrifice, but the future goal of having a career that will allow us to live comfortably someday is in sight. I have to remind myself frequently of this goal or else it would be tempting to just quit.

Getting through Jeff's degree is first priority right now. We are also trying our best to get this done debt free. Therefore things like clothes, shoes, and other frivolities are not something we get to spend our money on right now.

And really, do we really need those things to live a fulfilling life? We have a working car, a warm apartment, and food to eat each day. We have a stroller to take our littles on lots of walks. We have toddler toys to help our Brody learn by playing with him on the floor of our small living room. We have a table to eat dinner at together each evening when Jeff gets home from school. We have a bed to cuddle our sweet Bonnie in each night. We have a couch to throw all the pillows off and make into a jungle gym when the weather is too cold to play outside. We have a hallway to run, laugh, and race down just for fun.

Living this simple life is teaching me a lot about priorities that I think will benefit me through the rest of my life, even when we are making a bit more money. Whether it is saving for trips, or paying off a future home, we will always have to budget for the things that we really want. We will also have to decide what those things are, and have to decide which things to give up. I am learning that in order to have money for the important things, you have to give up wanting other less important things.

I know that in the end of my life someday I will not look back and wish that I had more clothes or a better car. The things that will be most important to me then, will be the same things that are most important to me now. Therefore, I should stop wishing for these unimportant things. I should instead spend my time living in the moment with the things that truly matter in life.

one simple song

If Brody loves anything, it is the movie Despicable Me. Am I proud that my son's favorite thing in the world (aside from maybe is father) is a movie of fictional characters? Eh, not really... but what are you going to do? This love started last summer on our trip to Washington. The movie was one of the things that Jeff had downloaded on our iPad in hopes that Brody would be entertained on our 12 + trip. Well, it worked. He watched that movie over and over again. This Christmas Brody got Despicable Me 2 and he is just as much in love. He dances, and laughs the whole way through. It's the only thing on TV that will hold his attention for longer than 15 minutes.

One interesting thing about this movie though (the second one) is that Brody is deathly afraid of the beginning scene. The movie starts with two random guys playing cards in the Arctic (or somewhere else really snowy). As soon as the scene starts Brody immediately becomes terrified. Tears start to stream down his face while he cries in horror... I wish I was exaggerating. It is honestly the weirdest thing I've ever seen. We don't know why the scene scares him, but we have learned to just always start the movie at the 2nd chapter to avoid the drama. 

The extras in this movie includes little mini movies. A few days ago I was watching one of them with Brody and he was dancing and dancing to the "Mmm-Bop" song. You know, the one that the band Hansen used to sing? Oh, how in love with those three boys I once was. As I watched little Brody dance to that familiar song, I realized that once upon a time, I used to dance to that same song. I remember distinctly being upstairs in my friend's bedroom, twirling around in circles together while singing, on the top of our lungs, that exact song. It blared at full blast.

That day, as I twirled and danced to that upbeat song, I never knew that one day I would sit on the couch, holding my two month baby girl, and watch my energetic toddler dancing to that same song. I never knew that I'd be smiling as I remembered that day in my friend's bedroom, dancing without a care in the world other than knowing the lyrics to that same song. I never knew how someday my little's laughter would make me smile and how just the sound of it would turn my day into a better one. I never knew that I'd someday enjoy joining my little guy in his silly dances and feeling so good about myself as I would have success in making him giggle more at my own silly dances.

That simple song made me reflect on how time passes. That day in my friend's bedroom had to have been at least 15 years ago. So much has changed since then. The experiences that have happened to me within that time, bad and good, have prepared me for the life that I have today. The life with my little dancing toddler.

figuring out discipline

Back in the day when Brody was so innocent and things were a bit easier.

Up until lately I've always considered sleep training the hardest thing I've had to deal with as a parent. However, ever since Brody hit his 20 month mark, we have had to learn how to discipline him. And man, I have to tell you, it is really really hard.

Honestly, it just sucks that parents have to punish their children. I never have thought about this fact until I was in a position to have to punish my own kids. I also didn't know that this phase wouldcome so soon.

Before I had kids, or even when Brody was younger, or actually I still catch myself now saying "My kids will never...." phrases. Lately, whenever a sentence (or thought) like this comes out of my mouth I have started to pause and think... actually you never know- my kids might do that exact thing.

Some of these phrases have been:
"My kids will never hit other kids on the playground."
"My kids will never scream bloody murder in the grocery store."
"My kids will never eat candy unless it is a special occasion."
"My kids will never watch more than one show a day on TV."
"My kids will never have to to be entertained by a screen in order to sit quietly and wait somewhere."

Seriously people, the list could go on and on and on. I am the worst, or have been the worst, at watching other parenting styles and telling myself that those situations I'm watching will never happen to me and my kids. And then they do... each and every one of them.

Dear Karli, you are no different than those parents you watched and judged in the grocery store, the playground, and everywhere else that kids are being... well, kids.

What a frustrating thing this has been for me lately. While Brody is screaming, at the top of his little lungs, up and down every aisle of Costco and people are watching as I cover his mouth with my hand in order to try to annoy him to the point of obedience... I'm just punching myself in my mind that I ever thought that my kid would act any differently than those other horribly behaved children.

We have been trying the timeout techinique lately with Brody while using "I can" language. For example, if he hits me, I will say, "Brody, you can either play here nicely with nice hands, or you can go into your room for timeout." Sometimes it works, but most of the time he just hits me again immediately after I tell him his options and into his room I take him while he screams, arches his back, and hits me a few more times. I set him in his room and he stands there, watching me with sad little eyes. As I close the door I see his face get sadder and he starts to cry (and yell and scream) as I shut him in his room all alone.

This same scenario happens if he won't stop screaming, throws food on the ground, or doesn't obey something I tell him to do or stop doing. Is it working? Gosh, I freaking don't know. And that part sucks the most. Putting Brody in time out feels like it just makes him more mad and more sensitive for the rest of the day. Sometimes he gets so upset he just won't stop screaming and carrying on.

This is especially hard for me when before a timeout he is his happy little self. For example, I was taking down the Christmas tree and I was bent over on my hands and knees under the tree trying to loosen the trunk from the stand. My shirt came up a bit on my back and my skin was showing. Brody saw this and immediately came over and started slapping my back thinking it was just the funniest thing ever. His laughter was so cute and it was honestly so funny, but I had to stop and think- wait, this shouldn't be okay. This is hitting. So I told him his options and of course, away he went to timeout when he continued to slap my back.

These are the times where it is so hard to consistently punish my little guy. Here he is having fun and laughing, and I turn around and throw hi in timeout, make him cry, and make him sad for quite some time afterward.

I know that discipline is something that is very necessary to raise a good, well mannered child, but it is so hard to know if what you are doing is working, or just making your life that much harder.