Girls Size 6: Why I want to punch children's clothing designers in the face.

Hearing "its a girl!" was one of the most exciting times of my life. (Well, it was three of the most exciting times.) Having my baby girl dressed in a cotton gown, wrapped in a soft light pink minky blanket and put into my arms filled my soul in a way that I didn't know was possible. I pull the sweet bundle close to my face and breathe her in. I nuzzle her cheeks, I run my fingers through her few strands of hair, and I am overwhelmed. I spend the next year of her life putting her in soft patterns, rose buds and pastels, whites, creams, and pinks. I spend a fortune on bows as big as her head. And even though she kicks them off within a few minutes, I slip ruffled socks onto her feet and work ballet slippers on. She wears smocked dresses with puffy sleeves and holiday scenes embroidered on her collar. Gradually, she becomes "bow trained" as my sister puts it, and sits still while Mommy clips a light pink grosgrain bow into her hair, and leaves it there all day. She learns to walk and before I know it she's old enough to actually play outside- riding bikes, scrawling her name across the driveway in sidewalk chalk, and fluttering around the yard with her sisters, all three pretending to be fairies. I'm not describing one of my daughters in particular- it could be any of my three, because the first years of their lives were all nearly identical. I am raising three daughters, and I am trying my best to raise them to be young ladies.




But I've reached a road block. You see, Maggie is now wearing a size 6, and up until size 5, children's clothing stores cooperate, somewhat, with what most mothers are looking for. I'm willing to work with what is offered. But now, she has reached magic size 6.




And something absolutely mind boggling has happened. I walk into the Girls section to see what I can scrounge up, but as I make my way in I feel more like I'm walking into a rave. There is so much glitter, air brushing, neon colors, mesh, spaghetti straps, cut off jean shorts, and cropped tops that I have to actually look up at the sign above my head to make sure I'm in the right area. Yep, "Girls". I stand there in complete disbelief and denial. Maybe if I stand here long enough with my eyes closed, I'll open them to see racks and racks of cotton play dresses, ruffled shorts long enough to cover her backside, and sweet little rosebud tee shirts. But no. I open my eyes again and attempt to focus. "Okay, there has to be something here. Anything." I turn and immediately feel my throat tighten as I try to keep myself from dry heaving right there in the middle of the store. The bathing suit rack. I won't get too far into this, but y'all, why are there leopard print and hot pink string bikinis in the Girls section? A child in sizes 6-14 has NO BUSINESS WEARING STRING BIKINIS. Okay, yeah, I said it. And I mean it. I turn around to see the most repulsive 80's teenager inspired, neon pink, mesh "shirt" on a hanger next to a table of camisole tops and jeggings. So I'm assuming that the intent is to layer. And why, OH WHY, do size 6x pants come in "Low Rise"?? Y'all, I just can't even. I run out of there like a total Mommy psycho walk away feeling defeated, and so so confused. I feel rage crawling up from my stomach. I want to tell off whatever ass hat that is responsible for this spread of clothes that I'm left to choose from. I mean, do these designers have kids? Better question- Have they ever even seen a child? Do they know that they are not just like super petite grown-ups? If you have shitty questionable taste as an adult, that's fine by me. Do your thing. Wave your freak flag, I don't care. But we have an obligation to our daughters to dress them like little girls while they are still little.





What is it about a size 6 that has led anyone to believe that a child that fits in that size should be wearing the same outfit that a 12 year old would wear? Is there some imaginary milestone that we hit? We're talking about little girls, not tweens. Where are the ruffles? The puffy sleeves? The flowing dresses? My 5 year old still wears princess dresses nearly every day. She's having tea parties with her baby dolls, she's pretending to be a mermaid in the bath tub, she's wearing fairy wings and tutus. So, I ask you, WHY WOULD I DRESS HER THE SAME AS A GIRL MORE THAN TWICE HER AGE?! Why is she banished to a department that has pleather jackets, mini skirts and padded training bras?! I have a 5 year old that still wears pigtails, bows in her hair, and loves nothing more than a dress she can twirl in. My daughter, my sweet, innocent, little girl, is not a run way model. She is not a tiny adult and she is no where near being a "tween".



(Eating a beignet)


My solution? Well, I buy the least expensive and least trashy of the trash that is available. And I let her play in it. Usually its a t-shirt with some awful design on the front, covered in peace signs and glitter. And when she comes in and its covered in grass or she's sweating like crazy from running around, I don't bat an eye. Instead of spending hundreds of dollars on clothes from stores hell bent on making my 5 year old look 18, I have become enthralled in the world of online shopping. And I finally understand why people pay more money for clothes for their kids! I also understand why some people invest in a sewing machine! It seems so old fashioned today to actually make your own clothes for your daughters, but guess what? I totally get it. The women that own these online shops? They totally get it. That's why so much of it is so expensive and why auction sites are so popular. If we stop buying the garbage being geared towards our kids, they'll stop making it. I've seen a handful of things at Target that look strangely like outfits that I've fallen in love with on online boutiques. We have to stop buying the lie. They will catch on. Its not okay to dress little girls like teenagers. Its not okay to train our daughters to use their bodies to get attention. We have to change the way we teach- I want my girls to know that they don't have to use the clothes they wear to get anyone to look at them. Clothes for little girls should be a representation of what they are, NOT what designers think they should be. So let's all band together moms! Let's leave the funky, completely age inappropriate "clothes" geared towards our baby girls on the racks! Let's vow to bring back all things feminine! Girly! Ruffles! Pink! Ribbons! Sweet details! Eyelet lace! Ruffle socks! Let's preserve what makes them precious and innocent instead of attempting to objectify them before they even know what it means!






Long live smocking, apron dresses, and all things girly!

{After nearly 40,000 views on this post, I have to acknowledge a group of little girls that I unintentionally left out- the tom boy! My girls are the girly girl type, so when I wrote this I was thinking of my own experiences. But as a little girl, I was a tom boy and I loved to be outside, climbing trees and in the mud. Fishing is still one of my favorite things to do! Those little girls deserve the same as the girly girls! Not every little girl will wear pink or ruffles and lace, but that doesn't mean they have to wear the clothes being targeted to them either! I mean, let's face it, what tom boy is actually interested in wearing low rise skinnies and a crop top anyway? They wouldn't wear the clothes on the racks right now either! We all want the same things for our little girls- Classic, modest, age appropriate and affordable. I can't say anything about little boys because as the mother of three little girls I have no experience in that department, although I am told that the little boys section in stores is just as bad! Maybe there will be a little boy in our future and I can write about it then :). ALL of our children, boys and girls, deserve better than what is being marketed to them! Thank you for your overwhelming support!!}

The Patience Well

You might have one baby and think I'm crazy for having three. You might have eight kids and think I've got no clue. But regardless of how many you have, whether you think I have it all together or I'm a total mess, no matter what stage of motherhood you are in, you can probably relate to this post. Sometimes being a mommy is all rainbows and butterflies and baking and pinterest. And other times? Notsomuch. This little slice out of my life might not be much different from your life of having two or four, or it might be completely different. Its a truthful, honest, raw description of the not-so-fun side of motherhood. The times when you really have to try, because sometimes being motherly just doesn't come easy.

Here's what I will tell you: Some days, its hard. Like, a few weeks ago, I opened my eyes at 6:45 on a Saturday to hear my 4 and 5 year old fighting in the living room, the baby screaming in her crib and I realize, almost immediately, that my patience well did not refill over night. Its too early, there was too much whining yesterday that lasted all the way until bedtime and even after, when they found 10 reasons to get out of bed. There was too much fighting between the older two, too much fussing from the baby, too much yelling from Mommy. If they would have slept in another 30 minutes (or an hour- or two!), or played happily and quietly for just a little while longer, the morning would probably go completely differently. I wouldn't feel the urge to jump out of bed and fuss at them for the same reasons I did yesterday. For some reason it feels like I didn't get any rest, and I'm waking up to the exact situation as yesterday. And its like it all hits me at once- the exhaustion, the frustration, the sick-of-the-same-crap every single day rut. I've found myself here before, and I know that its going to pass. But when I'm in it, it feels like I'm the worst mother in the world when all I can do is day dream about being left alone for five whole minutes. My patience well is empty. I know it, and they know it. But that doesn't change anything. Everyone still needs to be fed, diapers need to be changed, teeth need to be brushed... fights need to be broken up, toy sharing needs to be regulated. The house is a mess, and its been one of those mornings. The dog needs to be let out and fed. Of course when I open the back door he bolts across the yard like lightning (we don't have a fenced in backyard). So I spend the next 15 minutes trying to coax him back to the house. I get within a few feet and he's off again, like a race horse. I hear banging on the window from the dining room. Its Maggie yelling, but I already know what she's telling me. Someone didn't push their chair in and I can see a tiny little 15 month old standing on the dining room table holding a cup full of water. She's dancing and splashing the water into the air like she's at a Taylor Swift concert. I run inside and take the baby down off the table, push in the chairs and put the baby in the play pen. She's screaming bloody hell, but she has to be contained for a few minutes while I deal with the rest of the chaos- the dog running laps through muddy puddles in the backyard and the older two girls fighting over yet another toy that neither will care about in an hour. I run out to the back porch and yell/beg the dog to come back, and finally bribe him with a treat. Once the dog has been dealt with, I walk back inside just in time to see Mollie drinking my coffee (just what she needs) and Maggie standing on the couch pretending to be a princess in a tower (which is so typical). Then, I turn around to see this:




See, this is the play room. I'll be honest...The playroom is usually clean for about 30 minutes. I have learned that there is nothing more inviting for children to play in than a clean play room. So yesterday, when I spent 45 minutes cleaning, organizing and getting everything just right, the girls followed me in and immediately dove into playing for the next hour. I knew the room was being destroyed, but I was trying to make dinner and I needed them to be busy for a little while. Besides, its a play room. Its meant to be played in. I'm trying to convince myself more than you, because nothing irritates me more than a room in complete and total disarray. I'm not an OCD clean person, I'm actually the opposite. I'm more of a "sanitary" person. I don't like things to be gross messy. If you know me, you know I'm not a "Pottery Barn Perfect" house kinda person. I'm all about vacuuming and sweeping and keeping the house tidy, but its never ever perfect. But something about a toy shelf totally dismantled for no apparent reason really gets under my skin. I try hard to ignore it, but with me running at a 0 on patience today, I can't. I corral everyone into the play room. "YOU MADE THIS MESS. I didn't. You will stay in here and help me clean it." I have to point to every little thing to be picked up. Of course whenever its time to clean up, they are "sooo tired" that they just can't lift a finger. Well, I am in no mood for that. After 30 minutes or so they finally bring me all the small toys and I start to put them away in their designated bins. Finally the room is clean again. It feels much better. I'm starting to feel a little tiny bit better. The girls seem to start acting a little better.



(You might be asking yourself this question: If its a Saturday, then where is Chris? Well, he was called out at 12:30am to work and came home around 4:30 smelling like grease. Or train tracks, as I like to call it. He's exhausted, and I'm exhausted. But I slept way more than he did, so I'm dealing with the morning routine while he catches up on sleep.)

I hate being in a mommy rut like this. I really hate to fuss and yell. I hate when I wake up in the same crappy mood as I was in the day before. I hate it when my patience well doesn't refill. Sometimes after a hard day, I fall into bed like its a cloud. And everyone wakes up feeling refreshed, I can handle being woken up at 6:30 for no reason, and life is good. It seems like they could do anything and I wouldn't bat an eye. I have nothing but patience and love for my beautiful children. And then sometimes I wake up and feel like I never went to sleep. It always seems like when I'm at my wits end, the girls are non stop. Some days are filled with crafts, baking and hugs. We take trips to the library, we go shopping, we snuggle and watch movies. Other days are filled with time outs, fussing, and fighting naps. Being a mommy is not always sweet and fun. Being a mommy is not always easy. Some days, I literally have to pray my way to bedtime. I repeat over and over in my head: Lord, calm my heart and give peace to my soul. Sometimes I pray Please God let this be a good day. Because I really don't like having bad days. But when it seems like all day someone needs something, and while I'm getting that something, someone else needs something else, and it all just snowballs. Its very easy to feel overwhelmed. Its easy to get so far into the rut that just hearing someone say "Mommy" can make you cringe- as awful as that sounds. Now that the girls are older, I will literally say to them "I don't want to have a bad day. I want to start over. Please try very hard to be nice to each other, and listen to mommy today. Let's have a good day! Okay??" And then we high five. (You'd be surprised how much that helps too!)

Somewhere around 9:30, I lay the baby down for her morning nap. I make a second cup of coffee, and sit down on the couch. And slowly, I start to feel better- the girls are playing well together (finally), I've done a speed clean over the kitchen and front room, and gradually the day has started to feel less chaotic. Chris wakes up and he's still tired, but he's in a good mood. I've repeated my prayer over and over in my head, and I start to feel it- my well is refilling. I start to feel overwhelmed with emotions- guilt, for one, and love. And also? Perspective. Suddenly, I step outside of the tiny world I've been sucked into. I step away from the every day irritations that have gotten under my skin: the messes, the fighting, the disobeying, the wild tantrums. I see my babies. I'm not dealing with little adults here. They don't have the capability to reason like adults do. They just do what they want at that moment. Its incredibly difficult to think like a 3 year old. It doesn't matter if you cannot, for the life of you, make sense of what they've done. They might not even be able to makes sense of it. But if its done, then its done and there is a reason why in their minds. Before I realize it, I am staring at Mollie, watching her build a lego tower. She's meticulously choosing which one will be added next. She's sitting on her tiny little knees, and every so often pushes her hair behind her ear. She pauses and puts her thumb in her mouth, almost as if it will help her think. A minute or so later she pops it out and picks up her tower and turns right to me. "Look Mommy! Its Rapunzel's tower!" She is beaming with pride. And suddenly she looks so little. Because she is. She's a tiny little 4 year old person. And she's just so adorable. I think of how hard I was on her earlier when she was screeching and running in circles around me. She needs to be disciplined, but she needs to feel how much I love her more. I spend a lot of time praying that my girls can feel how much I love them, even when you can't hear it in my voice or see it on my face- because it is masked by frustration.

Some days I have spend so much time counting to three that the baby finishes for me after I yell out "ONE!" by yelling "CHOO! FREEE!!!" And no matter how annoyed I am, I have to laugh. She's adorable. I mean like, make me want to snuggle her and smother her with kissies adorable. (And I mean, who can resist a baby who climbs like spider-baby?) Even when its hard, even when it seems impossible, my blessings surround me. These little ones who drive me batty sometimes? I prayed I would get pregnant with them. I spent half of my teenage years wishing this time of my life would come. And here it is. So why can't I wake up every day feeling like I'm Gwyneth Paltrow- Mommy of the Year? Why can't I enjoy every last second of it, really soak it all up, and have never ending patience?? Because, this is real life. Everyone has a limit and everyone needs a break. Even Gwyneth. I look over at Maggie- the same child who just minutes earlier was trying to rip a toy from her sister's hand- and all I can see are red curls cascading down to her waist. She's wearing her Rapunzel wedding dress, and she's looking down at her feet. She slowly starts to dance around the room, and she really looks like a little cartoon character- with her bright red curls and big dark brown eyes. There again I see it- how blessed I am.

When the day begins and I can tell already its not going to go well, I have to remind myself of how abundantly blessed I am. Its also so incredibly important to communicate your feelings to your spouse, let them know how you're feeling and ask for their help. You are a team! We've been married long enough that Chris knows almost immediately when he walks in the door if I'm not feeling 100%, and based off the way the kids are acting, he usually doesn't even have to ask why. Mommy alone time is critical. Find time to be alone, to "get away" from being Mommy for a few minutes. With prayer and a few minutes to yourself, the well begins to refill. You can handle more if you've had a few minutes to think clearly. Get a message. Or go to Target alone. Or take a bath and drink a glass of wine. Find yourself. Remember yourself. Do what you love. Remember what you love. Did I mention you should drink a glass of wine? Relax. It gets better- so much better. Refill your well. When your well is empty, you know it, and they know it. When your well is full, your heart is full. You can discipline lovingly, which is how it should always be done. Being a mother is hard sometimes. Its okay to admit it. But sometimes, being a mommy is better than anything else in the world. My mom always says "Being a mother is the hardest job you'll ever love."

Baby B and Mama Photo Shoot {6 Weeks Old}: A Post on Pregnancy and Newborns

{This post is about being a first time mommy, with pictures from a session that I was so lucky to do with my cousin's first baby, Baby B, and baby B's beautiful mommy. Their session was lovely. The weather was perfect- warm and sunny. I got to watch this beautiful new mama with her precious baby, and it reminded me so much of when I had Maggie. How everything is new and scary, but so fun. She was such a sweet mommy with him, snuggling him and doing everything she could to keep him happy. You could see how much she adores Baby B. I can't tell you how much I loved snuggling with a bitty baby boy- something I don't get to do very often....! He was absolutely darling, and it was so fun to be with him the first time he got to breathe in some country air. What a session! It was perfect! And Mama, remember when times get rough with little man, hang in there! It gets better! I promise!}

I'm no where near an expert, but if I can share my experiences and advice that I've been given, and help anyone else out, then its all worth it.


There is nothing like having your first baby. When you take that test and find out that there is definitely a little bundle on the way, there can be a million different emotions all at once: excited, scared, nervous, thrilled, terrified, and one that I've felt a few times... the "oh shit" emotion. Its not negative or positive necessarily... Just a feeling of "okay, um, here we go!.... I guess.....???" And then you go. You go to the soon-to-be daddy and tell him. You go to the doctor and go through all the blood work. You might even get to have an early ultrasound. And for me, once I actually got to see the little jelly bean, that was it. Nothing else in the whole world mattered more than that baby in my belly. Like every other mama in the world, I was madly in love.






Then, your belly starts to grow. You might wake up one day with a big lump under your belly button like I did. Then one day you'll feel a little wiggle. Then a few weeks later you'll feel a big wiggle, which will turn into kicks. And those kicks might get to be a little painful. You'll likely have a very "glamorous" pregnancy, like every other woman out there. Lots of heartburn, sleepless nights, up to potty every few minutes, leg cramps that should never be called a "Charlie horse" because that just sounds too cute. It should be called "the leg cramp that will try to kill you." I would wake up, 9 months pregnant and LEAP out of bed to literally force my foot to be flat on the ground. Yes, good times. And you might have great skin during your pregnancy (some women are lucky that way) or you could be like me and have the skin of a 14 year old boy while you're pregnant. You might gain little to no weight. Or you could be like me when I was pregnant with Maggie and gain... well, you could just gain a lot. (We'll leave it at that.) You might go into labor on your own, you might be induced, you might have a planned C-section, or you might have an emergency C-section. You might be like me and bring your pre-pregnancy clothes with you to the hospital because you don't realize that if you have an 8 lb baby, you will lose approximately 8 lbs by the time you're ready to go home. Maybe less if you're still hanging on to all that IV fluid. So, don't be surprised if you still look 7 months pregnant on your way home. Unless you are Giselle. In which case, whatever. And don't be surprised if you're still wearing pants with an elastic panel for a good 4 weeks after. Okay, 6 weeks. {Although Baby B's Mama in these pictures was one of those mamas that put those pre pregnancy jeans right back on! Lucky duck ;) } But look, right after you have the baby, you'll feel like a million bucks! Your belly will feel flat, you will feel light as a feather. And then you will look in a mirror and go, "wait-a-second. What the heck is this??" Its okay if your belly isn't perfectly flat right after. Because you just had a baby. Be gentle with yourself. You just birthed a human. That's a big deal. You won't think it, but you will be glowing. You might be exhausted, cramping, and annoyed. And that's okay. Whatever you are feeling is normal. I remember when Maggie was born I wanted to cry. You're suppose to cry when you have a baby aren't you? I couldn't. The tears wouldn't come. And that was okay too. You might take one look at that baby and fall madly in love all over. But if you don't? That's okay. The bonding will happen. I promise. Pretty soon, you will feel whatever that baby feels. And when they cry because they are hungry/gassy/pooped/tired, you'll want to cry too. It'll start to hurt to hear your baby cry. That's being a mommy.




And then in the next few weeks, you will get very little sleep. If you're like me, it'll be because even though everyone and their mother told you "SLEEP WHEN THE BABY SLEEPS" you just. can't. do. it. You have to watch the baby sleep. What if she needs you? You know, like she squirms a little and you just have to pick her up?? So then you'll be tired. And you might have that awesome hormone drop called "baby blues". And you might cry. A lot. And you'll have no idea why. And if its the baby blues, it'll go away in a week or so. (If it sticks around much longer call your doc!) You might formula feed, or you might breast feed. (You're still an awesome mama either way, and don't let anyone tell you anything different! People choose one or the other for various reasons, so let's be supportive not judgey! Breast feed if you can!) I breastfed, and nursing your first baby is quite the experience. It might hurt a little at first, but stick with it! Its so worth it. (#1 reason I loved breastfeeding? When the little darling wakes up wailing at 1 am, you don't even have get out of bed to feed them. I'm lazy, so I stuck that baby in the bed next to me. But be smart about co-sleeping! No Rx meds or alcohol that night!) Your baby might cluster feed, which is when they decide they would like to nurse non stop for forever hours at a time. They are building up your milk supply. You might get engorged from all the nursing. You might wake up after a day or so of cluster feedings to a chest that would make Pamela Anderson blush. Don't pump because your body will think you used all the milk it produced and it will only make more! Your body will naturally leak, and your baby will eat like they are at an all milk buffet. They will go down. If you are painfully engorged, you can buy these amazing warm/cold packs made by medela. They are ahh-mazing. Warm one up and place it on the opposite side you are feeding on to help that side drain. Drink lots of water and eat lots of good food! You will still lose weight! You learn so much in the first few weeks after your first baby is born. But the best advice ever given to me? Do whatever it takes to get everyone the most sleep.



Within the next month or so, you'll get to know that little angel a little better. They'll fall into a little schedule. If you're nursing, they'll let you know when they don't like certain foods. They'll surprise you with poop when you least expect it. They'll wake up the moment you get in the shower. And it happens so often that you might begin to look at showering as a chore. Your baby will start to cry at random times and you might have no idea why. And that's okay. You will learn to try different things. Maggie and Mollie loved to be bounced and rocked when they were fussy. Some babies have such ferocious belly pains that the colic hold is the golden ticket! Adeline wanted to be put down and left the hell alone. Seriously. The first few times she got fussy for no apparent reason (likely gas), I bounced her around like I did the first two. And it did nothing but annoy her. I finally had enough and gave up. I laid her down on the boppy pillow next to me and just like that... she was quiet. She wanted to be put down.




And then, just as soon as you get them into a routine, they will protest. And with every child thus far, I've called my mom and sisters and begged for help. "I just don't know what to do! I can't seem to make them sleep/eat/happy." And every time they say "It sounds like they are changing. They are probably either teething or going through a little stage. Hang in there, it'll get better." And it always does. So hang in there. You will be exhausted, dizzy, and hungry. You might not remember the last time you took a shower. You might have baby poop and puke all over you and and yet have no idea that you could ever be that happy. You didn't know the air could smell so sweet, or that life could be this good, even if on the outside its tough.




You will find that few things can calm the soul more than a baby snuggled up in your arms just after a bath. You will begin to see yourself, their daddy, their grandparents and even aunts and uncles in that baby.




You will gradually begin to feel like this little person, this itty bitty human that poops, and cries, and eats and wash rinse repeat, is the most important person in the whole wide world. You will fiercely protect them. You will feel deep down a grizzly bear that would do anything, and I mean anything to protect that baby, to keep them out of harms way, to keep them happy and healthy.




You learn what its like to care for another person more than yourself. You grow with them. You become more than a woman with a baby. You become a mother. And in a few months, when that precious baby finds their voice, you will burst inside with excitement, because now you have a name. You are "MA MA!" And you will never forget the way it feels when someone else is holding them and they look at you with pleading eyes and arms wide open and lean towards you and say "Ma Ma! Ma Ma!" And you instinctively take them back into your arms. Because they are your heart, walking around outside of your body.






"No one else will ever know the strength of my love for you. After all, you're the only one who knows what my heart sounds like from the inside..."

My kids are crazy. No, seriously. But man, do I love them.

So, I have been thinking about posting a mushy gushy post about my kids, about how much I love them and how they are my whole wide world. How I was scared and excited when I found out I was pregnant with Maggie, ecstatic when I found out I was pregnant with Mollie and how I was over the moon when I found out we were having Adeline. I was going to talk about how sweet it is to feel a baby move in your belly, how fun it is to try on maternity clothes and have them fit, how I got a rush of adrenaline during each of my deliveries that made me feel like superwoman. How I know my epidural with Maggie didn't work worth a damn, because my epidurals with Mollie and Adeline were amazing. I would say there is just nothing like snuggling a freshly bathed baby in a soft cotton gown, warm and heavy on my chest. I could go on for days about how much I absolutely loved breastfeeding, and how much weight I lost while nursing I bonded with my babies. I always think about the first few days home when my babies smell like lavender and they fit just perfectly in the crook of my elbow. I could have talked about the way I look at Maggie sometimes and picture the little girl with the chubby cheeks and the red curls that were so tight she could have passed for little Orphan Annie. I considered writing about how I was almost embarrassed by how chunky Mollie was when she was born , and how the little hat we had embroidered with her name didn't even fit her, but my goodness did I kiss those cheeks. I think about how Adeline was and is the happiest baby I've ever seen and how she barely cried her first year of life.





But no. Not those things. Today is dedicated to the streak of crazy that all children have. You think your little angel is perfect? Just hang on, they are saving it up for you, to be released all at once when you least expect it. But really, the truth about the crazy in all kids? You have to have a sense of humor about it. You absolutely have to learn to laugh when your kids do something so totally senseless and psychotic that you think you'll explode. If you don't laugh, you'll cry. Its funny, really. It might not be funny at the time, but take enough deep breaths, or walk away, and then deal with it so you can discipline with a clear head. Because really, they are babies, tiny little humans, that are learning. SO when you catch your kids doing or saying any of the following or any variation thereof, you can teach them. Or laugh. And at the end of the day, after you've exhausted all of your patience, be gentle with yourself. You are raising people! And if that doesn't earn you a big glass of wine, then I don't know what will!

My children may or may not have done any of the following. And if they did, then that may or may not be why mommy drinks.

1. You may find your child in the bathroom halfway through pumping an industrial size bottle of hand sanitizer onto the floor.

2. Your kids might be successfully sleeping through the night for a year. Or two, or even three. But that doesn't mean they won't find a reason to bust open your bedroom door a 6:00 AM and make sure you are awake. Because, even though you made it clear they are only to wake mommy and daddy in the morning if its an emergency, they will somehow convince themselves that whatever it is, is definitely a true emergency. Like when Maggie woke me up to tell me she was tired. Join the club, kiddo.

3. Your children might have turned around in line at the UPS store, and while holding hands announced to the people behind them that "We are orphans from Miss Hattie's Home for Girls!"
(A line straight out of Despicable Me)

4. You may have to dedicate an entire year of their lives to teaching them that they are NOT ALLOWED TO JUMP ON THEIR BEDS, THE COUCH, THE DINING ROOM TABLE, or IN THE BATHTUB. (Yes, true story.)

5. Aww, newborn babies are so so sweet. Bathing newborn babies is so sweet and serene. Until they poop. EVERYWHERE. And you may or may not have to throw your clothes in the trash because they just aren't worth washing once they were covered in that.

6. Your adorable offspring will have no problem announcing to the old lady with the bleached bouffant that "her hair is craaaazy!" (I've heard of several children also announcing when they believe someone is fat, but mine haven't done this. Yet. I'm sure its coming.)

7. There is a chance if you own super expensive and super fabulous lotion, one of your kids will find it, and possibly put an incredibly thick layer of it over their entire body.

8. If you and your husband ever find yourselves in your bedroom alone... lock the door. Just trust me on this. LOCK THE DOOR.


9. They might make it a habit to have to go #2 every. single. time you sit down to eat anything. (This includes eating at restaurants.) Or, in Mollie's case, at 6 in the morning.



10. Speaking of eating.... No matter what it is, no matter when they ate last (they might even still have their own food in front of them), they will want your food. Case in point: I went on a field trip with Maggie last week. I was suppose to pack my lunch, but I forgot it at home (totally typical of me). So I scrounged up some change from the bottom of my purse and managed to get a bottle of water and a bag of Fritos. I sit down next to her and open my chips. She looks at me, eyes wide open and smiles, "Mommy! I LOVE FRITOS! Can you share with me???" And even though she had a ham sandwich, carrots, an apple, chocolate milk and a cookie in front of her, I shared my Fritos. Because that's motherhood, and that's just how it goes.

11. Your child may decide, at any point, that they are going to throw themselves into the most delusional, psychotic tantrum you've ever seen. And chances are excellent they'll do it in public. And they will go completely dead weight, like a 45 lb bag of sand. And there will be snot. And tears. And screams that would break glass. And it might be because you didn't let them ride the school bus ride made for a toddler in the middle of the mall.

12. If you have company over, your children will probably fall into the "give me attention now" panic mode. Its a lot like a tantrum only it doesn't end until the company leaves. Then, they will magically recover.

13. Your children will tell everyone your business. If you say it in front of them, consider it fair game. I'm afraid to ask Maggie's teacher what information has been divulged to her.

14. The point that you feel like you might be doing a good job as a parent, and that, well, you might actually survive this thing and give a few functioning members to society, your children will check you. And by check you, I mean they'll pee in the seat of the grocery basket in the middle of the store just to make you mad.

15. I actually had to say these exact words to my kids to prevent them proclaiming their child-fueled ungratefulness at Christmas time: "I DON'T CARE IF SOMEONE GIVES YOU A ROLL OF TOILET PAPER. YOU SAY 'THANK YOU', GIVE THEM A HUG, AND SIT DOWN." Because like so many kids do, my kids have opened their Christmas/birthday/random holiday presents and actually said "THAT'S IT??!" It's not their fault, I have to remind myself, they are little people. They are learning, so we have to teach them.

16. Your kids may go through a stage where they climb. on. everything. Couches, tables, fireplaces, chairs, window sills. No? Okay, maybe that's just Adeline.

17. Your kids might also go through a stage where they won't eat anything but goldfish crackers. No again? Okay, still just Adeline.




18. If you sit on the toilet, they will know. And they will find you. And they will need you for something. And no matter how much yell, and demand, you might even beg and plead, they will not back off until you come out and finally help them with the true emergency: helping them put Cinderella's dress on right.

19. There is an excellent chance that the second you button up that beautiful Christening gown, they will poop so much it will make it all the way to their shoulder blades.

20. You might have hidden a dessert for yourself and your hubby to share after the kids are asleep. That will be the night they get out of their beds and waltz right into the front room just as you're stuffing a massive chocolate cannoli into your mouth. And they will look at you as if you betrayed them on such a level that you will never be forgiven. And for the next week, they will find a reason to wake up at night to make sure you aren't eating something without them.

21. Prepare yourself. If you plan anything that sounds "like fun" (ie: going to get ice cream, a trip to the park or library, baking cookies, doing a really cute pinterest craft)it might possibly go horribly wrong. And it won't just be once. It might start to feel like every time you plan anything, it fails. I have one awful memory of when I took the girls to get ice cream and it was a total, complete disaster. Both dropped their ice cream cones on the table, there was stickiness everywhere and it was pouring down raining and freezing cold. I'm not discouraging fun activities, just don't be disappointed if it goes down the crapper with a quickness.

And sometimes, even though you feel like you've sufficiently prepared your children to be in public, around people, they will prove you wrong. And people might stare. And your face might turn red, and you might start to sweat. And you might take a step towards your precious baby, and they will take a step away. And they might even run. More people will stare. And when you finally catch the little stinker and throw them over your shoulder like a potato sack, and walk out of the place, remember one thing: Everyone has been there. I repeat, everyone has been there. And the people that haven't? Don't worry about them. Because those people haven't been in the other places you have either. Like in your glider rocking chair with a sick baby getting a breathing treatment and fighting a horrible cough for the third time this year. They haven't been with you when you held your arms out to that same baby who is taking her very first steps. They haven't gotten to see that same little stinker on Halloween, dressed as a butterfly, or Christmas Eve putting out cookies for Santa. Or when they come climb up into your lap just to cuddle. They didn't see how excited you were the first time they went on the potty. Or when they blew out their birthday candles. Maybe when you saw your oldest acting like a big sister, and she helped the baby up when she fell, and aww, she even kissed the baby's bo-bo. Because really, when your drinking your glass of pinot at the end of the day, its hard to remember all the bad, and babies look like little angels when they're sleeping. And those people might stare and they might judge you, but who cares? A stranger giving you a dirty look is worth it when you get so much. So just because that little one squealing and fighting you the entire time in the mall brought on stares from a group of judgey old ladies doesn't mean a thing. Because they got to hear the crying and whining, but you get to have them when they are beautiful, sweet, snuggling, little angels. Okay, that may be a stretch. And hey! It looks like this turned into a mushy gushy post after all! I guess that's what happens when your hands and your heart are full.


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When Life Isn't Always a Fairy Tale

As much as we all try, no one has the perfect life. There are perfect parts, no doubt. But no one person's life, as a whole, is perfect. The story of how Chris and I met and started dating is no story to envy. I'll spare everyone the details, but suffice it to say at 19, neither of us were short on stupidity. We dated on and off for a few months, and then took a lengthy "break". When we both felt what life was like without the other in it, we found each other again. We changed our attitudes- towards relationships, our education (we met at LSU) and our lives. And at 20 years old, approximately one month into our relationship, I knew this was the man I would marry.



Like pretty much every other girl, since I was a child, I have been obsessed with getting married. To me, there was nothing more romantic in the world than finding that one person we were meant to be with forever. I won't lie- I tried to picture myself marrying just about every guy I dated. I wrote my name with their last names, thought of the names of my future children, what it would be like to be a wife. But there was always something missing from every day dream, before Chris. Something just didn't feel right. Then, one night after watching the movie Old School and eating buffalo wings, I looked over at this college kid sitting next to me. Backwards LSU hat, T shirt, no grown up goatee yet, and he looked at me and smiled- the kind of smile that makes your stomach flip. I knew, right then, that through thick (it turns out I get very thick when I'm pregnant...) and thin, this was it. This was also the night he told me he loved me for the first time. We were so young, but so sure. He graduated in December, and I followed in May, and 9 days into June, we met at the altar. A week long honeymoon in the mountains of Wyoming, and then real life began.

Chris was working as an estimator at a construction company in New Orleans, and I started working at Children's Hospital doing three/four 12 hour shifts a week and working every other weekend. We were clip clopping along in our new life without many issues, aside from the usual adaptation to newly living together (Chris is very slightly OCD about certain things, and I'm a terrible average housekeeper.) We had our ups and downs, moved out of our tiny apartment and bought a house, I went on a permanent maternity leave and then shortly after we had Maggie. We were feeling great, and life was good. Pretty soon, work for Chris became monotonous. He enjoyed his job, but it quickly became obvious that he was itching for more outside of the regular 9-5 in an office Monday through Friday. Then we had a golden opportunity present itself for Chris to go into a completely different line of work. He was intrigued, I was intrigued, and a few days later we decided to go for it. Chris put in his two weeks notice at the office, and we jumped into something that was incredibly promising. We traveled (with tiny little Maggie) to Kentucky and Ohio. We gave it a year before we realized that this line of work was just not for us.

So, wait, what just happened? In a few months, Chris went from stable job with benefits to no job at all. You might think this is crazy, but Chris actually printed out copies of his resume and went to all of the companies that he wanted to work for and handed the Head Estimator of the construction firm a copy. 3 weeks later he was employed again. 1 year later, he was unemployed again.

In that year, we had Mollie, I started working as a nurse again, and we had just bought our first new car- a Jeep Wrangler. We were floating on air. Life was good. Very good. Then around 3pm, the day after my 26th birthday, I got a phone call from Chris. The conversation went something like this:

"Hey, I'm on my way home."
"Um, you're coming home early.... what's the matter?"
"I got fired."
Silence.
"Haha. Yeah right." (He had developed a bad habit of joking with me about this)
"No. Seriously."
"Seriously???"
"Yes."

And then I literally dropped the phone and burst into tears.
(Chris didn't get fired because he wasn't doing a good job. He was laid off along with 8 other employees due to the company downsizing. But let's face it. It doesn't make any easier. "I really like you, but ya gotta go" is pretty much what it felt like.)
I looked down at the girls playing on the floor and thought, "Oh. My. God. How in the world are we going to do this?? How could we let this happen?" Our decision to walk away from his first job was haunting me. I was frozen with fear. There was no way lightning would strike twice. There was no way Chris could walk out of the house and get another job in such a horrible market. But he did. Within a month, he was employed with another construction company. But there was something else this time. Something waiting in the wings, and it was much, much bigger than anything we had ever dealt with.

The month that he was home again was awful not easy. We were both on edge, and I was working four 12 hour shifts a week (thank GOD for my wonderful boss that let me pick up extra shifts!). The house was a disaster almost all the time, the girls were 2 and almost 1, and we were not in fairy tale honeymoon phase of marriage. We were bickering and fighting way more often than we ever had. Through it all, however, we managed to keep our faith. We knew that our hard work would pay off, even through such an incredibly difficult time. Sure we had made some questionable decisions, but hindsight is always 20/20. We took risks, and have both always been of the mindset that "you never know until you try". We had no idea how those words would soon come back into play for us.

Something that I never in my life thought about, suddenly became an option. Chris' grandfather retired from the railroad and his brother was also working there. He brought up the option to Chris that he may want to consider applying for a job as a supervisor with the company. I was 100% against it. I knew the secret. I knew we would have to move. AND THERE WAS NO WAY IN HELL I WAS MOVING AWAY FROM LOUISIANA. Period. But then, after much research and tense conversations, I began to bend a little. See after you experience the "joy" of being laid off, you tend to look at the job market a little differently. After a little more research, we found out that in the entire history of the company, they have never laid off management... well, that spoke volumes to me. And suddenly, a door that was bolted shut was now unlocked. We were open to moving out of the state. Never in a million years could I have guessed what was coming next.

About 3 months and 2 interviews later, we got the phone call that completely changed our lives.

"They offered me the job!"
"Oh my gosh! Chris! Congratulations!! Did they say if we had to move?"
"Yes. I'm going to be training in Toledo."
And, I kid you not, what I said next was no joke.
"..... Wait, Toledo? Toledo, Toledo.... Isn't that in CANADA?"
"No. No its not. Its in North West Ohio."
"No Chris, I'M LOOKING AT A MAP. Its like RIGHT NEXT TO CANADA."


But that was it. It was already done. We had committed to taking the job regardless of where they were sending us- and it was the best decision we've ever made. It turns out that even though we felt for a moment that we had made the worst decision of our lives by leaving that first, "perfect", safe job, it was actually the best thing we could have done. By Chris quitting the first job, we were led down a winding, crazy stressful road and dropped off right where we needed to be.



Our life still isn't even close perfect, but its our life. When he was laid off, we spent a lot of time praying. When we were so scared of moving, we prayed A LOT. I try not to paint a rosy picture of my life. I don't want anyone to ever think that we have it all together, or that somehow we aren't scared of the next step, wherever that may take us. After talking to so many people about our situation, feeling like we are the only ones to make decisions like we did, I gradually started to put together what many people don't realize is reality. No one has a perfect story. We kid ourselves by setting up the perfect pinterest inspired picture. We all try to put up a front, whether we mean to or not. We all go through hard times- incredibly hard times. I know that so many people have dealt with lay offs, moves, and much more stressful times than we have. Its so hard to remember that when we're going through a hard time, especially with everyone else's perfection on display. Its so easy to feel alone, like we're failing. Like no one else has been there. And its very easy to let that stress, anger, and frustration take its toll on your marriage. We forget who we're married to, and we forget who we are. Faith is what brings us through it. Faith is what gives us hope in darkness. And faith is what takes the evil out of our thoughts and replaces it with memories of our own "perfect" times.



For me, being stressed out and scared out of my mind, I had to look at Chris and remember the teenage boy I fell in love with. The boy who danced with me at Tiger Bar until 2 in the morning. The boy who could make me weak in knees with one look. The 23 year old with the big brown eyes who said "I do".




The boy who, right in front of my eyes, turned into a man, terrified, but so in love with his new baby girl. The man who held my hand as I delivered each of our babies, helped me recover in the days after, got up with me in the middle of the night for feedings.




That man, who would do anything in the world for me and his babies-that's what I remembered when the stress was too much. No one has a perfect life, but there are pieces that are perfect, bits of our own love stories that are amazing, and those are the times that get us through the crap when we feel like the shitstorm of our life has made landfall.





"Be kind, for everyone you know is fighting some sort of battle."