It’ll Be Back Again Someday (Or in 13 Years)

Greetings from Nashville, Alaska!

Okay, maybe we didn’t get THAT much snow, but it may as well have been three feet. Because six inches in this area? SHUT ‘ER DOWN. 

There’s two viewpoints I notice people take:

(My extensive, scientific-based research is from my networking). 

(Some may call it Facebooking). 

1. This is amazing!

2. This is torture!

Now, I’m firmly in the first group. First, I am blessed with a warm home, abundance of food, a sweet husband, an adorable baby, and plenty more of life’s joys to really have nothing to complain about. 

Secondly, I’m a former (still feels weird to say) teacher. WE LIVE FOR SNOW DAYS. I don’t think that excitement will ever go away, no matter how long I’m away from the classroom.  

And so, today is the day the Great Thaw of 2016 begins. And while I do look forward to seeing civilization again (well, most of it…), I’m not going to lie. As ridiculous as it sounds, when this snow finally becomes water on the pavement and drops on the branches, it kind of feels like I’m saying goodbye to a wise friend

I know, I know. IT’S PRECIPITATION. 

But I do think this wintry friend taught us all a few lessons. The primary one being SLOW DOWN. 

Maybe it’s because we were well-stocked with groceries, or maybe it’s because we have the wonderful advantage of neither my husband or I having to drive on slick streets to work, but whatever the case may be, I loved being forced to stay in and do nothing but watch the snow fall. 

And more than that, with my two boys by my side. 

Not only at our screen door watching the South’s version of a blizzard, but by my side for dinner. 

And lunch.

And even breakfast. 

We’ve had no choice but to keep the car in the garage.

We’ve baked sweet treats, made pancakes, found some homemade goodies in the freezer for dinner (thanks, Mom!), built towers with Luke, watched him knock them down, rocked and read stories, fly “SuperBaby” down the hallway, built a snowman, made a snow angel, had tickle fights, cleaned a little bit, and of course a few crawl races with a squealing ten-month old. 

During Luke (and I)’s naptime, Brett even managed to wrap one of his grad classes. Notice I said during his nap. He could’ve taken a much-deserved nap himself. He could’ve easily said, “I need to work on homework,” but he didn’t. He chose us. He chose our family.

I could write a five-paragraph essay on how we all need to take a breath and stay home more often and INVEST IN OUR HOMES AND OUR FAMILIES. 

(Well, maybe a sermon). 

Don’t get me wrong. Of course it’s good to invest in others (I believe Jesus had some things to say about that), to travel, to get out and about. Errands have to be ran, jobs don’t get done on their own, and life has to go on. 

But I think we all can and should adjust the speed of how we live it

And this ole friend made us all do just that.

For all of those wanting warmer weather, it’ll be here soon (it’s Tennessee, so it’ll be this weekend). Maybe we can remember the lesson our friend tried to teach us when those temps creep back up. 

Gather around a picnic table. 

Make milkshakes instead of hot cocoa. 

Go swing instead of sled.  

Build a Lego skyscraper rather than a snowman. 

The roads don’t have to be ice for us to slow down. They’re just a slap in the face (especially if you try to walk on them) that we should. 

Thanks for the memories, Snowmaggedon ’16. 

You’ll melt away, but you won’t be gone. 



15 Realizations of 2015 (Spoiler Alert: Leggings Are Still Not Pants)

Ba bah ba ahhhh bah ba baaa buh aaahh gaaa ba bah ba.


Oh, sorry y’all.

Luke thought since he can eat read board books, he could also write a blog.

And you read that right. He has said MAMA! Multiple times, in fact.

Although, his train-of-thought is really this: “I’m fussy… getting fussier… why haven’t you picked me up yet… brink of meltdown…okay, I warned you… meeellltttt—“MAMA!!!!”—dooowwwwn!!!!


Mama: 1, Dada: 0

(And when he says it, I’m wiling to give him ALL OF THE THINGS.)

(But he really just wants my attention).

(Because me? I’m MAMA).

(Prideful? Naahhh….)

I do apologize to my handful of readers for no blog since October. Truth be told though, I didn’t think there’d be another in 2015. This little human keeps us, what’s the word?, BUSY. And you might suggest I could when he naps. However, Luke seems to think the crib is fine and dandy during the nighttime (which LET’S GIVE THE LORD ALL OF THE PRAISES), but remains a torture device during the day.

So the blog-writing, laundry-sorting, floor-sweeping, dust-wiping will have to wait. Because they’ll always be there, and he will always not.

Those sound like some LOFTY 2016 resolutions, though.

Usually, at this time of the year, I write about things that should stay in the year we’re about to leave. And I really could probably do that again, but spoiler alert: Leggings are still not pants, Elf-On-The-Shelf still needs to be packed away forever, and Florida-Georgia Line still makes terrible music.

So this year, in honor of 2015, here’s 15 realizations from this life-changing year (in no real particular order):

1.  I’m so that mom. I take pictures of Luke everyday, and I post one (or two…) just about daily. And I could be sorry, but I’m not. I’d much rather look at a cute baby than read why Trump/Obama/Fill-in-the-blank is the devil.

2. Two things you don’t think you’ll ever say in the grocery store until you have a baby? “Do we need Boogie Wipes? Let’s pick up some gas drops while we’re here too.”

3. Daytime television REALLY needs to step up its game. Although, a Fixer Upper marathon still reels me in every single time.

4. I’m pretty sure when Luke is old enough, he’s going to want to send a Christmas card to Uncle Chip and Aunt Jo and wonder why we won’t visit them in their farmhouse or the silos.

5. God’s love has been reframed for me in a whole new way with Luke. Brett mentioned this in our LifeGroup, and it stuck with me. We were talking about the difference between God’s love and human love. I love y’all, but would I give up Luke for you? To save you? To redeem you? I’ll be honest, I don’t think so. But He did. So the verse I’ve heard since LifeGroups were known as Sunday School, John 3:16, has come alive in a whole new way.

6. I’ve tutored some sweet kiddos a little bit, and to my burned-out teaching friends? If  I could give you anything, it’d be an extra hour (are you laughing your head off? EXTRA HOUR? HA!), so you could find that joy of teaching without any tests, evaluations, and a whole bunch of “stuff” in the way. It makes you wonder how education has turned into what it is. (But trust me, your work is important and if nobody’s told you lately, you’re doing a great job).

7.God provides. We knew He would, and He has. From paying for a brand new car unexpectedly without a loan to Brett winning a full-tuition scholarship for his MBA out of thousands, well, it’s humbling. And reaffirms everything, especially… He is faithful (and He was when things weren’t so solid, too. He’s always there planning paths far better than our own).

8. Diaper pails work until a certain point. Without going into too much gross detail, basically that point is when solid foods are introduced. Then, just trust me: Bag it, tie it, toss it. Outside.

9. Baby shoes are adorable but pointless. That is a battle not worth fighting, my friends.

10. It’s important to take time to be silly even (especially) you’re sleep-deprived or stressed. The other day, I could barely keep my eyes open and Brett and I just started singing Adele’s “Someone Like You” as loud as we could to each other. He was in the kitchen, and I was in the living room laughing my head off. Mood lifted. (Try it, “NEVERMIND I’LL FIND SOMEONE LIKE YOUUUUUUUU….” Don’t you feel better?)

11. I don’t know if having Luke has made me hyper-aware and I didn’t notice before, but twice in the past couple of months I have seen children left in the backseat without anyone else while their parent is shopping or in a restaurant. Oh. You better believe I call or alert authorities when I do (and if it ever happens when it’s burning up outside, I’ll find someone to help me bust a window). I can’t imagine purposefully doing that to Luke or any child. Kills me.

12. People are very gullible. All these political blogs (conservative or liberal) that say an outrageous headline and get reposted a million times make me want to throw my laptop out the window.  There should be a quiz at the voting booth before one votes to see if you’re smart enough to tell the difference between actual reporting and clickbait.

13. We have recently caught on to the wonder of sleep-sacks. Not sure what their magic is, but these seven-hour-stretches-of-sleep don’t have me complaining.

14. I totally get the, “I’d rather be sick than you” line now. Nothing worse than feeling helpless, and so far it’s only been a sinus infection that’s had him down.

15. And on that note, I’m so thankful for so much this year. God gave us the desires of our hearts in abundance in 2015. A healthy, active, funny, curly-haired, blue-eyed baby boy that we are smitten with more every single day, family that’s been an amazing support system, friends who have showered us with gifts and love, and His grace for when we don’t appreciate our blessings enough.

2015, thanks for all you gave our sweet family.

Especially for those four bags of epidural during a long stretch of hours in March.


Happy 2016!

Sunrises, Shade, and Swim Diapers: Beachin’ with Baby

Tap, tap.

Is this thing on?

Y’all, I have to admit something.

I thought once Luke grew out of his newborn stage that I would be ALL UP IN THE BLOG. I suddenly would have way more free (well, hands-free) time, so many thoughts to share, and, as the Dixie Chicks sang, Wiiide Opppeeen Spaaaccceeessss!

Well, that hasn’t exactly been the case.

As our sweet baby boy has grown, he wakes up as the Energizer Bunny a little bit more every day. Listen. I’m so grateful he is so healthy.  Once we passed that “fourth trimester,” the time, it really does fly. He’s seven months this week, and while that does hurt this mama’s heart a wee bit, I am just so thankful he’s growing and, by all accounts, thriving. I love watching him explore and discover something new every day. He is the definition of precious, curious, active, unintentionally funny, and WIGGLE WORM. He has brought my husband and me endless joy.

Just not said hands-free time, my thoughts are a little scatter-brained, and not a wide open space to be found.

(Except our living room floor which has been sans coffee table due to the tiny human who I think is part-monkey.)

(Just watch out for the board books, squeaky toys, singing train, stuffed animals, and puppets).

(He still hasn’t learned to clean up after himself after seven months).

While he’s napping in his crib (which, for the record, I still feel like I deserve a SHINY RIBBON every time this successfully happens), I thought I’d revisit this little memory-keeping space.

Oh, I could do something more productive.

Clean the bathrooms.
Sweep the floors.
Watch last week’s Nashville. (#TeamDeacon).

But I’ve chosen to invest in the blog, and I know my husband will be ever so appreciative.

So, I thought I’d share some baby beach tips we learned on our recent trip. As the date was getting closer, I was seeing RED FLAGS. However, we really had a wonderful trip, and was even more surprised how well he did in the car. We only stopped twice on the way down, and just once on the way back (winning!).

For the days and weeks leading up to our Great Voyage to the Gulf, I googled and pinterest…ed until I think I read every blog offering advice for traveling with an infant to the beach. Some were helpful (a baby pool!), and some we realized weren’t for us in a manner of 3.05 seconds (a baby tent).

In no particular order, here’s what worked for us both in the car and on the sand:

1. A Baby Fan

While Luke is generally a happy baby, he considers the car seat his arch-nemesis.  That’s not too big of a deal on a fifteen-minute drive to church, but on an eight hour drive spanning three states? HOUSTON, WE HAVE A PROBLEM. Other than the whole restraint thing, we think one reason he wasn’t a fan was because he gets so hot in it. So we bought this baby fan and I think it chilled him out a little (pun totally intended).

2. Sit in the Back

This was the one I was dreading the most because I haaate riding in the backseat on a long trip (I know, #firstworldproblems). But, I think our trip would’ve felt much longer if I didn’t. I could play with him, pat him to calm him down, distract him with a squeaky toy, and he just knew I was there.

3. iPad in the Car (YEP).

Don’t go calling the American Academy of Pediatrics on me. We will only do this for long trips, but it was a lifesaver. During a meltdown one day on the ride home from church, while being stuck in traffic, Brett and I were feeling pretty desperate. So, I pull out my iPhone and pulled up an Elmo video from YouTube. And all of the sudden, the demons left my child, and he went back to being sweet angel baby. Well, what do you think we did before our trip? We bought the “Best of Elmo” for $10 on iTunes, downloaded it on the iPad, Brett “McGuyver’d” it with binder clips and twine, and we were set for our trip. He only watched it probably about an hour total or so each way, but DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG AN HOUR IS WITH A HAPPY BABY? A lot faster than one with a baby that hates the world (even if I know the words to every song Elmo has ever sang).

Displaying IMG_7327.JPG

4. Ground Floor Unit

Brett knows I have one requirement for our stay on the beach. Our room must be beachfront. If I have to drive or walk across the street to get to the Gulf, I’d rather just stay home. I know, that is totally snobby, but it’s just how it is. I now have a new one: a ground floor (at least while he’s little). I cannot even tell you how much easier it was to just walk out to the beach from our patio. We could leave gear on the patio without hauling up and down stairs, easily go to the room for a quick diaper change or break, and it just saved so much headache. Do it if you can! I promise your view will still be better than fantastic.

5. Rent a Crib

This one may just be tailored for our sensitive sleeper, but we knew our Pack N’ Play wasn’t going to cut it for our baby boy to sleep in every night. Great to play in, but not so comfy to sleep in. We never have “co-sleeped” during the night, so that was out. So we rented a crib for a small fee and it was worth every dollar. I’d write a check for a few good nights of sleep every time. I was able to enjoy gorgeous sunrises a lot more with a few hours of consecutive sleep (key words being CONSECUTIVE).

6. Inflatable Baby Pool

One of Brett’s coworkers was kind enough to loan us their shade tent for Luke to sit in on the beach. Well, after one attempt at that, we knew it wasn’t for him (though for many babies, it would be). He couldn’t see us, and though it was shaded, it was hot since the breeze was blocked. So our plan B was using the $4 inflatable baby pool we bought at WalMart on clearance, and he was so much happier. He could see everything, and feel the sea breeze his Mama loves. Put a few toys in there, and he was a happy crab (if there was ever such a thing) for a little while at a time.

7. Sun Protection

It was just our luck that when we got to the beach, we discovered that all of Luke’s sweet, floppy beach hats were just a tick too small (thanks to my genes for the big noggin’…). Thankfully, we had a pretty adorable crab cap that fit perfect and he generally kept on. So, hats of course, swim shirts, and baby sunscreen. You know what’s not fun? Putting on baby sunscreen on a baby’s face. It’s similar to herding cats, except more hissing is involved. (Also, I had read that swim diapers only hold, ahem, dirty diapers and not wet. So, he was in regular diapers on the beach.) (I learned this was true when walking back to our room holding Luke, and feeling a warm stream down my swim cover and legs. This gives me great comfort to know that the pool is completely clear of any bodily fluids, I’m sure).

8. Find a Routine

Our first day was the rude awakening that HEY, YOUR BEACH DAYS HAVE DRASTICALLY CHANGED. Part of this has to do with him hating the baby tent that I mentioned, and that made him pretty grumpy. So after I had been down there ten minutes, we went back to the room, and then Brett gave me beach time that afternoon by myself (which, I have to admit, was guilt-free and LOVELY). The next day though, we switched gears with the baby pool and learned that once he played in there for a few, a beach walk and the sound of the waves led to a nap under the beach umbrella. It was different than years past, but no less enjoyable (in fact, a lot more sweeter).

9. Pack Essentials

My husband laughs (and slightly grimaces… or maybe that’s the other way around) at my packing when we go on a trip. I pack anything I can that we might need. Laundry detergent, dryer sheets, trash bags, ziplocks, all the bath products, even a couple rolls of TOILET PAPER (There are certain things that you just need to have your brand, you understand). He likes to remind me that we’re not visiting a remote island, rather just near the Florida/Alabama line where a Publix is a mile away. So, basically I’m saying don’t be like me, pack less. (I did just pack a few diapers and bought a pack down there). (But I totally used a coupon). (#SorryNotSorry)

10. Set Up a Tip Jar

If you have a cute baby, your beach set-up will be a destination on just about everyone’s beach walks. We should have had a sign that said, “Stop and See: $1, Picture $2.”

But really, could you blame them?

We could have made a fortune!

We are thankful God blessed us with that little crab a little more every day.

When Revival Happens in the Parking Lot

“I’m feeling adventurous this morning!”

Those words came out of my mouth as we passed by our street while chasing down bad guys.

Actually, I said those words as we passed by our street to look for more yard sale signs. At the same time, the baby just woke up from a nap and was teetering on the fine line between fussy and giggly.

When you become a parent, your definition of adventure changes DRASTICALLY.

This was living, y’all.

We passed a few more streets and drove around a large neighborhood before calling it a bargain hunting day, and we turned back on to Highway 70 heading towards home.

We were laughing along to the radio when we heard it.



I didn’t mean that kind of adventurous.

Fellowship Baptist Church was just on the right, so my sweet husband pulled in and parked. He went to the hood, I went to get the baby out of the car seat, and then we saw it… a cord thing dangling on the pavement.

(I later learned that it’s called a belt).

(I did not know cars had belts).

(Maybe it makes the engine’s waist look smaller).

Thankfully, we weren’t far from home and my parents live close by, so they were on their way to come get us (thanks again, Mom and Dad!). It was also a low humidity morning in August in the South, which that alone is a miracle in itself.

But something really cool happened in that church parking lot.

While we waited for a few minutes, two different people – complete strangers – pulled in and asked if there was any way they could help. One of them was even getting his phone out for us to use to call loved ones if we needed it.

They didn’t know us, and I’m sure they were in the midst of a busy Saturday morning.

(In fact, one told us he was on his way to Antioch to visit his sister).

Yet, they made time. They made a choice. They saw a young family with the car hood up in an empty parking lot and stopped. They could’ve kept driving and gone along with their day, as many did, but they didn’t.

Would I have stopped?

I don’t really want to answer that question because, well, I know the answer.

I would have kept driving.

Oh, I would have made myself feel better by knowing that I have no car expertise at all to offer (see belt insight above), but I learned something today. I could offer my phone to make a call, I could offer to drive down to the Dollar General down the street and buy a cold drink, but the most and best I could offer is to let them know I care.

Those two gentlemen did that today.

In a world where people get shot in church, in movies, and we cringe to hear where next, those two guys taught us that there are still good people.

Let’s not be the Priest or Levite looking the other way when others need help.

Let’s be the Good Samaritan.

Let’s be the good.

Despite our good intentions, I think we sometimes make this whole church thing a whole lot more complicated than it has to be.

It doesn’t take a fancy building.

It doesn’t take committee meetings.

It doesn’t take bright lights, a choir robe, a smoke machine, a wooden pew, or a coffee bar.

It doesn’t even have to take money.

All it takes is a kind heart to shine the light of Jesus to the world.

Before we found ourselves in that parking lot, we passed that sweet little church on our yard sale excursion. I remarked that their sign was advertising a revival.


Revival? I believe we just had it.

(Fun fact: We received a check in the mail this past week that we weren’t expecting. It more than covered the complete cost of the repair to the car. Thanks, God. I think you wanted me to learn a lesson this week. Lesson learned).

From an Apple on My Desk to the Apple of My Eye

Dear Mrs. S,

Let me introduce myself. My name is Luke’s Mom. I go by another name too, but it’s all I’m seemed to be known by now, not that I’m complaining.

I haven’t been around long, but it’s hard to remember a time when I didn’t exist.

You, however, have been around for over four years now. Really, it’s been over five years if you count that first year when you went by Miss G.

(You’re still trying to not go into the fetal position when you think that those kids that remember you as that are now seventh graders).

When I was a little girl, I always wanted to be you. An elementary school teacher with an endless supply of Expo markers, boxes of Crayola crayons in a bright-colored tub, your own reading rug and rocking chair to read stories to children and change your voice to different characters, your own bulletin boards to decorate, your own class to lead down the hallway while having eyes on the back of your head, and even your own papers to grade with your multi-colored pens.

And, thank the Lord, I got to be you these past few years and it’s been a great joy of my life. You have met friends that will be lifelong, taught students who will change the world, and grown into a profession that’s become a passion.


But that little girl you were wanted to be something even more than the teacher with the polka-dot dress and colorful lanyard.

You wanted to be a Mommy.

A Mama who was able to stay at home.

We’re going through a transition right now, sister. One you’ve prayed would arrive and wondered if God would grant the desires of your heart. And praise Him, He did! One where your husband crunched numbers and you saved up together to allow my dream of staying home to happen. And praise Him again, it has!

It’s a beautiful and joyful transition.

But can I let you in on a little secret?

It’s also a little bittersweet, too.

Don’t you think I’m complaining. I am so grateful to be here and to see you step away for a while.

While you have some friends that don’t understand why you would want to, you have many friends who would love to be at home, but can’t for their own reasons right now. It doesn’t make me any better of a mom and them any less of one.

(On a side note, I will guard what I say on social media. Because you know what a tired teacher who is also the mama to a sweet baby doesn’t want to hear? How tired I am. Newsflash: So are they, but they have to get up in the morning and wear dress pants. You can stay in pajamas).

Much like teaching, there’s nothing that can prepare you to be a mom until you actually are one. College courses and labor classes are one in the same. Helpful information, but once you hold that baby, much like once you stand in front of that first class, you realize you really know nothing.

But that teaching thing? You felt like you were (finally) getting into your groove.

And don’t think I haven’t noticed you.

The school supply sales are full throttle, and it’s all you can do to not pick up a few boxes of Crayola (for those kids who inevitably bring in RoseArt), a few extra Elmer’s gluesticks, and some bulletin board border for a fresh start.

On Sunday morning? When the pastor asked for all the teachers to stand so they could be prayed over? Well, you felt a little out-of-place as you remained sitting (until you bolted for that colleague down the aisle to pray over her. I know that was all you).

You’ve been seeing all sorts of ideas on Pinterest that make your teaching imagination come alive with cross-curricular activities, how you’d design your classroom this year, and all the little stations you’d have set up your Open House next Friday night.

You, in a cruel twist of fate, are even having school dreams again.

You’ve visited that second home of yours of the past five years a few times with friends as they set up their rooms and decorate their doors, and you’ve felt that twinge of, “Am I doing the right thing?”

I’m here to assure you.

You are.

God has made it clear that you are by how He’s provided when it didn’t make sense. He’s had this laid on your heart as long as you can remember.  You didn’t dream of the wedding and the dress, you dreamed of the husband and the family you’d hopefully have.

You can think back to when you were a very little girl and remember eating a Happy Meal with your Mom at McDonald’s on a random Monday, reading Bible stories on her bed, and taking walks around the block.

I want that too.


You see, I’m a little selfish. I want to see all the “firsts,” I want to be the one that calms Luke down when he cries in the middle of the day, the one who walks countless laps as he finally falls asleep on my shoulder, and the one who even changes those dirty diapers.

(Well, Daddy can do that too as he feels led).

It’s true, you loved seeing your name outside that classroom door, but one day you’ll see it again. There will be other classes for you to love, but there will never be this time of my life or his life again.

You knew the moment you found out I’d come around that you, Mrs. S., didn’t stand a chance.

Home is where I’m supposed to be.

You aren’t going too far though, as you tutor some sweet kiddos once school cranks up. So, don’t go throwing away those flashcards and file folder games just yet. You’ll get to keep your second love close to your heart, just on a much smaller scale.

Oh, and that darling son of yours? Well, he’s going to need that creativity you loved using in your classroom. Show him the shapes as you build castles with blocks. Build a fort and stack it with books and a flashlight. Teach him the alphabet with a silly song. Practice your numbers with hopscotch and sidewalk chalk. Read one of your favorite books with a puppet on your arm.

You used to pray every morning on your short drive to work for many things, but you’d always include, “Let me be a light to my students and coworkers in my classroom and hallways.”

I promise to carry that light in this new phase of our lives together, even if it’s just the living room and hallway to the bedroom.

Thanks for all the wonderful memories, Mrs. S. It’s with a little tear in my eye but a smile in my heart to tell you that I promise to make the most special ones while you’re away.

– Luke’s Mom


Goodbye Swaddlers and Hello Baby Gate

Well, to my tens of readers, I’m so sorry I haven’t written a blog in a sweet forever.

(Although, I did do a little bit of writing for my church’s website if you missed it. And so did Brett).

You see, I’ve completed the fourth trimester.

And can I say? It’s been wonderful, joyous, funny, amazing, miraculous, and well, a little bit of a humdinger.

I used to laugh at all those who’d say that there was a fourth trimester. “Oh, you dramatic, tired mamas… there is no such thing as a fourth trimester. Go sleep when the baby sleeps.”


Make no mistake though, just like the three trimesters of pregnancy, it really is a miracle. To see our baby boy change every single day and become a little bit more aware of the world around him has made this mama’s heart glow.

However, as what will come as a shock to approximately zero people, it hasn’t been without its share of challenges too.

And since I not only have zero motivation, I’m not sure I have enough alert brain cells to perform the task of writing coherent paragraphs with transitions, so while he’s napping on me, here’s a list of all the highs, lows, and learning adventures of the past four months with our darling boy.

(I also always feel the need to add that any ‘complaints’ on here are meant totally in jest. We are so thankful to have any of these experiences because it means we have our baby boy. God gave us the most precious gift. I wouldn’t trade any of it for anything. I’m just documenting for when he’s five and probably still fighting sleep and remembering YOU SURVIVED.)

1. I’ve already talked about how nursing was something I had severely underestimated. Now that we’ve made it over that bump (or two bumps… sorry, I couldn’t help it), here’s what just baffles my mind: Babies have to be taught on how to go to sleep. I know Luke is tired, he knows he’s tired, but often times he will be generally fussy for a half hour or so until he falls asleep. I don’t understand. JUST GO TO SLEEP, DARLING.

(I will add that the past couple of nights, he’s only awoken once which is a streak in my book. He’ll probably perfect it right before teething starts).

(I will also add that I’m very lucky that I can stay in my pajamas most days if I have to. I know how lucky I am).

(But TAUGHT TO GO TO SLEEP? Mind-boggling).

2. And that sweet baby doesn’t want to be rocked, nope. We must walk around and around until he drifts off. All of these parenting articles say, “Put your baby to bed awake but drowsy.Y’all, that’s hilarious. Because when that happens, we are a rolling machine until we are Niagra Falls from the tears.

3. And Mama can’t take the tears. Just can’t handle “Cry It Out.”

4. But then, he falls asleep on my shoulder as I’m softly singing, “You are my sunshine…” and I couldn’t care less how many steps I took or how long I walked. It’s THE BEST.

5. Before I end the sleeping diatribe that this has become, Luke is still in the bassinet in our bedroom. This is not because I’m emotionally attached to him being in there (I promise, I’m ready to not tiptoe to go to the bathroom). It’s just he’s still inconsistent at night, and his nursery is upstairs. And that’s a lot of walking up and down in the middle of the night. We are going to attempt the transition this weekend though and hopefully he will realize his crib is a cozy, glorious place of SLEEP.

6. We are so grateful for a healthy baby. His worst ‘problem’ has been a little bit of “cradle cap.” So all this talk about sleep is so not a biggie, we know we are so blessed.

7. I didn’t really have any cravings while pregnant. Just liked my usual stuff. But since he’s been born? I’ll take peach tea, cherry slushes, and an ice cream sandwich please.

8. (Preferably all three, everyday).

9. (I’m sure that’s not at all related to THE HEAT).

10. Those first few weeks were so sweet as we were getting to know our baby boy, but I wouldn’t go back. I love looking at the pictures, but those were some uncertain times of “WHAT ARE WE DOING.” (Not that we still don’t have that).

11. Really, to all mamas who have a newborn (or those who are expecting), I know you’re overwhelmed. You have no idea what his cries mean, you have no idea what day of the week it is because his days and nights are mixed up, and you feel guilty that you’re not enjoying every moment.

12. Can I give you permission to not enjoy all the moments? BECAUSE IT’S OKAY. Those are some rough days at first. Amazing and precious? Yes, but overwhelming mostly.

13. It (obviously) gets better. Once you get past that first month or so, you will fall into a schedule and you suddenly have an intuition when he’s hungry, sleepy, or just grumpy. Your body adjusts to not as much sleep, but you get more too. Hang in there, mama. My only piece of advice is to take pictures. I love looking at how he’s changed.

14. The day Luke could hold his head up on his own was a game-changer. We joke we can carry him around like a sack of potatoes now.

15. We also love how more interactive he’s becoming everyday. When I say his name and he turns and smiles, MELTED. His giggles are better than the sound of the waves, and his dimples make his mama’s knees weak. Bath time is always the best, bubbly adventure. He’s generally a happy baby and he just brings so much joy. He even smiles as he spits up. (Me, not so much…)

16. I’m so thankful for this time of our lives when I can stay at home with him. I know mamas who have to do it (and I have dear friends bracing for it), and I would if we had to, but I’d be heartsick every time I left daycare in the mornings.

17. The whole, “You’ll love your husband in a whole new way,” is so true. At least it is for me.

18. Seriously, Brett is the best Daddy (next to mine, of course). He gives me a break the moment he walks in the door and doesn’t complain about it, usually holds him during dinner if we need to because he knows I probably did every time I ate earlier in the day, gets on the floor to try to teach him to crawl, loves to make him smile and giggle, wraps him in his towel after every bath, and walks him to sleep every night. I love watching their relationship continue to grow.

19. I told myself I wouldn’t before he arrived, but y’all I can’t help but post a picture (or two…) of our sweet baby boy just about daily. I’m totally that Mom. Not that I’m biased, but HE’S JUST SO CUTE.

20. And I’m totally #sorrynotsorry about it too.

So while this fourth trimester is over, I’m thankful for it all and will look back on it fondly, but I won’t miss it.  My house won’t either, as vacuuming the living room rug is now a serious accomplishment.

Now that our sweet baby is giggly and smiley and happy so much? Well, now this. This I’ll miss.

Good thing I’ll have approximately 4,324 pictures to remember it by.

We love you with every single piece of our heart, baby boy. Life is a whole lot sweeter with you in it.


What Mamahood Means


Mamahood means you discover a love that you’ve never known.

Mamahood means you value your marriage more than ever before.

Mamahood means you fall more in love with your supportive husband every day.

Mamahood means your definition of “sleeping in” is now whenever you sleep past sunrise.

Mamahood means that even though you’re tired, you’d make that trade every time.

Mamahood means you pray a little more every day.

Mamahood means you are in even more awe that God sent His only Son to die for you.

Mamahood means you have a whole new perspective of God’s great love.

Mamahood means you can shower, start a load of laundry, and prepare a sandwich all within a ten minute window.

Mamahood means you wince more than you used to when there is any news story involving the death or endangerment of a child.

Mamahood means you trade in your coffee table for a bouncy seat and swing.

Mamahood means you give yourself permission to have a dirty house because loving on your baby is more important.

Mamahood means you actually enjoy cleaning your house when the baby learns to nap somewhere other than your arms.

Mamahood means you’ll forever wish you had whatever ailment your child may have, even if it’s only the hiccups.

Mamahood means you no longer have a need for an alarm clock because you’ll hear every little coo, grunt, and snore while your sweet husband snoozes away.

Mamahood means your Saturday mornings shift from sleep to strollers.

Mamahood means you take pride in the simplest accomplishments, like when your child finally hits the rattle in his bouncy seat.

Mamahood means you plan to leave about fifteen minutes earlier than you normally would’ve, knowing that you won’t actually leave fifteen minutes earlier, but hopefully on time.

Mamahood means you are compelled to take at least one picture everyday because he looks a tiny bit more grown every morning.

Mamahood means you resist posting all the pictures you do take.

Mamahood means you actually print out your pictures now.

Mamahood means you value your friendships with the ladies in your life more than before.

Mamahood means you gain a whole new outlook on your own mother and how well she loved you your whole life.

Mamahood means you walk past the Women’s Dept. and straight to the baby section without a thought.

Mamahood means the dishwasher runs a little more often because eating in is not only more affordable, but more comforting when your little family is under the roof of your home after a long day .

Mamahood means you savor those nights you do go out to eat because they’re a little fewer and farther between.

Mamahood means you love deeper.

Mamahood means you smile wider.

Mamahood means you laugh harder.

Mamahood means your house turns into even more of a home.

Mamahood means you wonder how you lived without your little blessing all these years.