Whether you’re a little girl in the foggy woods, I mean, a “magical forest”, in Minnesota on a 47 degree November day, or the mommy to that little girl, take a look around — stop looking for the magic, because you are in it! Not every day with a toddler seems magical, especially the days when she tugs at your leg every minute and wants “uppia”, but only if you are standing, or when she fights a diaper change for ten minutes right before you were walking out the door in the morning for work, or when she demands “fishies” the entire 30 minute car ride, but you don’t have any left and can’t make her understand that. Just when you think you are at your wit’s end, you are overwhelmed with happiness when you go into her room in the morning and she greets you with a smile and sweetly says “in! in!” until you get into her crib with her for two minutes until “all done!” and she kicks you out, or when she points to the card on the fridge with a fox on the front and proudly blurts out her newly-learned word, except it doesn’t exactly sound like “fox”, but sounds more like the F-bomb, or when she answers with “Owwh-kayyyyy” (in a British accent) instead of “yes”, and what may be the sweetest thing to every mommy’s ears; hearing her say “lah-youuu, mommy” and puckering up her sweet little toddler lips for a kiss!
That is the magic.
This “forest” was pretty magical too, but I think that’s because she was in it… ❤
Today my photo was selected as one of National Geographic’s Daily Dozen and the photo with the most votes (by midnight) may be published in an edition of National Geographic! I would love your support and if you would vote for my photo!! Thank you thank you thank you!! 🙂 Just click the photo to be taken to the site to vote..
Halloween costumes these days just aren’t what they used to be. Anybody agree?! Now kids can go into a store or online and choose from hundreds of expensive, yet cheaply-made costumes. Never once did I (we) go into a store as a kid to choose a costume. Either it was handmade by my talented, seamstress mom or it was thought-up and created ourselves. Here’s a glimpse of what Halloween looked like growing up in the eighties… Happy Halloween!
Every time I blog, I wish that I had [more] time to do it. Truth is, I have so much to do on a daily basis that I have no choice but to eliminate something in order to a.) get the other things done.; and b.) keep my sanity. Ugh, priorities. The blog always causes anxiety when I think about what [I think] I want it to be. So much planning, so much dedication, and the pressure to be consistent in order to make it worthwhile. But you know what, screw that. For the last week, I’ve been in Los Angeles attending the Adobe Max (design) conference. And doing one small thing there made me realize that I can’t – and I don’t – want to stop playing. And if part of “playing” means blogging randomly about anything I want, with no pressure, then that is what I will do. 🙂 So, with that, I’m going to blog random art projects or photos or whatever I feel would be fun to share — with no pressure and without making content planning a part time job in itself. After all, all it takes is a blank canvas and some paints, a coloring book, or a big bed to have a little fun…
I wrapped up my 30-day series on Instagram the other day, but my followers loved it so much, I decided I’d keep it going! So now, instead of sharing little glimpses of all areas of my life through instagram, I am just sharing all the moments of my two favorites in the whole entire world — Finley & Lucy. I think I love doing this more than my followers like the photos! I’ve been defeated by the duo a few times during all this, but am going to give those shots another… shot… again soon. 🙂 Here are the photos from days 16-30! Follow me on instagram ——->
That’s what I always tell Finley. And it’s so true, isn’t it!? No matter how much I knew my mom loved me all of my 31 years (and counting), the love she [must] have for me all came into perspective when I had Finley. In light of Mother’s Day this Sunday, here’s just a glimpse of the kind of love that comes with a daughter..
To Finley…
When I insisted we keep our lights on dim the first night we brought you home so that I would be able to see you the minute I opened my eyes. How you slept by my side of the bed for the first eight months of your life and even when you slept through the night, I didn’t. How I held it together the entire time I got ready for my first day back at work, the day after my first Mother’s Day, but lost it the minute I pulled out of the driveway with you in the back seat to bring you to daycare. And listening to “A Comet Appears” by The Shins and “Transatlanticism” by Death Cab for Cutie with tears rolling down my cheeks the entire drive there. “Still to come, the worst part and you know it.” Yep, dropping you off at daycare was the worst part to come that morning. And “I need you so much closer…” I knew sitting at my desk at work while you were at daycare wouldn’t be close enough. How it was all I could do to not text Heidi every hour to see how you were doing for the first six months you were there.
The absolute joy and happiness I felt inside the first time you giggled. (The same exact feeling the first time you rolled over and said “puppy” and walked by yourself!) How my heart sank to my toes the day Lucy jumped over top of you when you were laying on the couch. Or the time the vacuum tipped over on top of you. And the first time you got shots and you had the mouth-wide-open-silence before the big cry. The compassion I felt for you the night I found you awake in your crib covered in puke; and the days that followed when you threw up multiple times looking so confused and innocent. That I felt worse for you being sick than I did for myself having to clean up someone else’s vomit at 3:00am.
How heartbroken I felt that week when you would cry when I picked you up at daycare. But how happy it would make me inside if you’d cry when I left you. Or when you’d repeat “mamamamamama” while you cried when we transitioned you to your crib. And even though hearing you call out to me made me smile, I’d tear up hearing your cries of sadness. All the countless times I would wake up in the middle of the night to lay you back down, give you your pacifier, and kiss your forehead. Or the nights you need to be held and rocked back to sleep. Knowing that no matter how exhausted or frustrated I am, I would be there in a heartbeat.
The look on your face and your joyful giggles when I push you in the swing or when you splash water in the bathtub and Lucy tries to catch it. How I’m totally ok with sitting in the back seat to keep you company during a long road trip. And my ritual of kissing you on the forehead when you are settled into your carseat, before I get into the driver’s seat. How I always am certain I can hear you crying when I’m in the middle of a shower or when we are miles apart.
How proud & giddy I feel with each of your milestones, big or small.
The excitement I feel when I think about the future with you, watching you learn and grow. But how much pressure I put on myself to do a good job of raising you to be a smart+kind little girl.
Now I get emotional during any commercials, TV shows, or movies that have sentimental interactions between a mom and child. And now, a perfect Friday night consists of regular weeknight routines with you, a glass of Apothic Red, Dateline & Shark Tank, and staying up just a little later than normal. Instead of sleeping in on Saturday, waking up with you to make you breakfast, listen & dance to music, and clean the house all before 10:00am. Eating dinner after you go to bed so that you can eat dinner, have a bath, and play first.
The days I feel defeated and have to be ok with not getting a thing done, but then remember that I certainly am being productive, because I am a mommy.
That making you laugh is a daily priority no matter how ridiculous I must look and sound.
Learning that no matter what I want to accomplish each day or how I might feel, being a mommy to you comes first. Like the day I was sick and had to put you down mid-bottle to run to the bathroom [to throw up], and then finish feeding you, wishing more than anything that I had my mom here to take care of me too. And knowing that she would be in a heartbeat if she could…
Because,
that’s just the kind of selfless+unconditional love you have for your child…
“You’ll never know how much I truly love you until you have your own baby someday.”
In celebration of Mother’s Day, I invite all mommies to share a story about the love you have for your little ones, or why your mom is so special, or how she has made you feel so special! As part of the MOMery campaign Dropcam is doing, they will be sharing some of their favorite stories! For more information, contact Tiffany at — tpham(@)dropcam(.)com
Ok, fellow mommies… who need an alcoholic beverage after dealing with a teething baby or perhaps a crappy winter, or both. If you like margaritas, you may want to join me in making this your official summer drink of 2014! This is no regular margarita.. it’s a grapefruit margarita! Made entirely with freshly squeezed fruits. Well, that, and liquor. It’s been such a hellish winter here in Minnesnowta, that I decided it was time for a margarita in hopes of feeling one step closer to hot summer evenings, grilling on the deck and sipping an icy cold drink. Since making it, I think we’ve had like seventeen more snowstorms and temps in the 20s.
But it’s Friday and it’s suppose to be 60°… So this is totally necessary tonight.
The first few months of parenthood are all trial+error. At least I haven’t been so lucky to get my hands on the official “Mama Manual” yet. So far, I’ve learned a number of things. One [self-enforced] “Rule”: do not get myself fully ready and dressed in my “work clothes” before getting Finley fully ready to leave the house first. You just never know if you’ll get pooped or spit-up on! But, sadly, the mishaps can’t always be avoided 100%..
I didn’t have my work clothes on yet, but my make-up and hair were done. I was burping Finley and sure enough, she spit up in my hair, down my back, and on the rocking chair. (You know you’re a mom when you go to work with a few crusty ends to your hair and then get whiffs of spit-up throughout the day without it bothering you.) I was ahead of schedule despite the spit-up incident and for that, I was proud. Until I took a look at my hair in the rearview mirror just before backing out of the driveway, only to see something crusted on the shoulder of my shirt. WTF is that?? And then I had a flashback to when Finley was a newborn. Those sleepless nights… waking up to change+feed her… getting pooped on. OMG! It’s POOP! I remembered that I had this shirt folded on the floor with plans to return it, only to never get around to returning it or wearing it until this particular day. Sure as shit (no pun intended), it was crusted baby poop. On my shirt. Shameful yet proud, I went inside and washed it off as best as I could and was back on my merry way to work. When your outfit is clicking and your feelin’ good, and the baby is already in the car, there’s no way you’re going to change into a whole new outfit… am I right? (well, that’s my motto anyway) The only other thing that would have made me the epitome of a working mom that day would have been a breast pump bag on my shoulder. I didn’t look quite as bad as it probably sounds…
Other things I’ve come to realize…
• Have burp cloths everywhere around the house. Because when the baby spits up, you realize the burp cloth is never in sight. My favorites are these Aden+Anais ones. So soft and fit perfectly on shoulder and around neck with it’s shape.
• Have phone, remote, burp cloth, and whatever other useful items near you while breastfeeding. Again, in the middle of breastfeeding, an infomercial or something equally as bad will come on the TV and then you’ll realize the remote is a couple feet out of reach. Or you’ll decide you want to catch up on facebook but realize your phone is nowhere to be found either. I’ve become pretty good at picking up various items with my toes…!
• Have a bottle cleaning station somewhere other than the kitchen. (we do ours in the laundry room) I just feel like the kitchen harbors more bacteria from various foods, gross wash cloths, etc. Plus, who wants this bottle clutter in the kitchen where everyone sees it?
• Be sure to have gas relief drops on hand. These are a life saver!! And it might be the cutest thing ever to watch a baby get a taste of something other than milk for the first time.
• Formula container with dividers. With this, you can measure out the exact amount of formula into separate compartments so you can easily make a bottle when you aren’t at home. Love this thing! (buy it here) Will be great for snacks (for baby or husband!) when we are past the formula stage as well. 🙂
• If you know you are about to change a poopy diaper (or as I say it to Finley in a weird this-is-how-I-talk-to-babies-voice with a slight accent, “poopsie pants!”), take out a few wipes ahead of time. Trying to get one out with one hand is a challenge and is suuuuuper annoying.
• Pacifier clips. (because it never fails, the pacifier somehow, magically gets lost in the carseat every time and is impossible to find!) I was going to make my own but took the lazy way out and just ordered two from this etsy shop. Aren’t these adorable!?
• Have phone nearby at all times, because there are always moments you want to capture on camera or video! I’m good at this one. 🙂
I knew life would forever be different, but there are no words, no advice, no books, nor countless stories from experienced parents that can prepare you for parenthood. When we got home with Finley, we looked at each other, confused, as if it was our first day of kindergarten, with no clue what to do next. I felt so lost, I wished I was back in the hospital for a couple more days to feel be taken care of. The first few nights, we slept with our lights on (dimmed) because, heaven forbid I couldn’t see my baby if I opened my eyes. Feeding/changing her countless times in the middle of the night was a huge production. Cory and I would both get up, turn on lights, fumble around to make a bottle, get pooped and peed on while changing our crying baby’s diaper. The whole ordeal would take at least an hour. We were zombies during the day the entire first week month. And the first week is when everybody and their brother wants to visit. Bless their hearts.. 🙂
If this trailer of “Up All Night” doesn’t sum it up, I don’t know what does. I cannot stop laughing when I watch this!
The swearing, the crying, the wipes… the freaking wipes! They stick together and you can never get just ONE out with one hand while the other hand is holding the baby’s legs so her feet don’t get in the poopy diaper.
Cory and I also had a moment when we looked at each other and said, “We need to get out of the house”. We felt like prisoners in our own home. But, going out in public was also a huge production… Was she just fed? Is her diaper clean? Is she sleeping?Ok, Go! Fast! And God help us if she starts crying when we are in a store. It happened in Target and we [sorta] panicked. No one wants to be “the lady with the crying baby”. I stayed in the aisle with the screaming baby while Cory ran to another aisle to get a bottle of water so we could make a bottle for her (see, we weren’t even prepared enough to have a bottle ready in public!). By the time he got back, she had stopped crying. The good news is, when the baby is that little, people just give sad, puppy-dog-eye faces and think it’s so sweet, versus when the child is a little older, you get glares while they think “OMG. Control your bratty little child, lady!”. Can’t wait until those days…
My parents stayed with us the first week. I’m not sure we would have made it through that week without their help. Chances are, Lucy would have starved to death and us to, for that matter. One night, my mom stayed up in the living room while Finley slept in her cradle until she woke up for her first feeding so we could “go to bed” for a couple hours without the anxiety of Finley being next to us, needing us. Something so small, yet so wonderful.
There is no doubt that I wore the same two outfits every day for two months. (I’m sure Cory was really attracted to me.) I was so proud and felt accomplished with each little thing I may have gotten done in one day; whether it be a shower, a prepared meal, or doing the dishes. My biggest milestone that first week was when I figured out how to pump and do my makeup at the same time. First epic fail as a mama: spilling the pumped milk all over the bathroom floor. I could just cry [over spilled milk]!
I’m somewhat ashamed to admit it, but there was a night or two when I woud rock Finley’s cradle with one arm off the side of the bed, telling her to “Go the F to sleep. Please. You are an infant. You are suppose to sleep“, then instantly feel so mean for using the F word directly to my sweet, innocent daughter. (But rest assured, she’s a baby and doesn’t know good from bad [words] yet.)
Though amazing, those first couple months weren’t very glamorous. But, truth is, my life is so much richer and full of love than it’s ever been before. Between a happy marriage to my handsome husband who would do anything for me [and I for him], an adorable dog who is loved more than most dogs [and is part human, I’m pretty sure], and now this healthy, beautiful little baby who is all ours (all ours!!), there is so much love. So much happiness. I feel incredibly lucky+blessed every. single. day.
I mean, does it get much better than this:
Finley is just over three months old now and I finally feel like we’ve [sort of] gotten the hang of things. This “new normal” is pretty darn wonderful. She’s been such a good little baby… She rarely cries, loves her nuk, enjoys bath time, smiles when I use the bulb suction to suck boogers out of her little nose every day (seriously!), lets me dress her up in multiple outfits and take way too many pictures of her, and will go from breastfeeding to a bottle [that is only room temperature] with no hesitation. She’s not picky! She’s been smiling since she was four days old and is just one happy, easy going baby! I know the days will come when she’ll seem like the naughtiest little girl in the world (while people glare at me and think I should control my kid), but I’ll still love her to pieces and all the while, still think she’s the best little girl in the world too…
Finally, I’m back! I’ve been having thoughts of blogging for weeks now, but hadn’t found the creative juices (or energy… or time…) to sit down and get the job done until now. And what better time to do so than on my sweet daughter’s 1-month birthday! I always used to secretly chuckle about how [new] parents always go on and on about how they “cannot believe their baby is 1-month, 6-months, or a year old” — asking “where has the time gone”. Well, consider me guilty. It definitely is hard to believe she is already a month old! But it’s also one of those situations where it feels like forever ago that I was at the hospital in labor, yet it feels like just yesterday. I know, totally doesn’t make sense.
To kick off blogging again, I thought I’d fill it with a fun Finley infographic vs. a wordy post. In the near future, I will blog about my “birth story” and other thoughts+feelings+stories (+pictures!) of this wonderful world of motherhood…
lifelove+lucy 