That we feel the need to make grand announcements heralding our pregnancies is, I have to say, a bit amusing. You’re growing a human! An egg and a sperm collided on exactly right day and this little microscopic organism did exactly the right things at exactly the right time to sustain life. A pregnancy is…
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It happened. A pause in the conversation. A lull in which someone thought it would be a wonderful time to direct her attention toward the newlywed in the group and ask, “So, when do you think you two will be having a baby?” I could write a book. That question, “So when are you two…
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In my fourteen months as a mother, I’ve observed that we, a society, generally don’t expect kids to act like kids. In other words – we like babies, but only if they look like Baby Gap models. Ideally, we want our babies to wear pin-able outfits, be immaculately clean, to only say cute things at…
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When I was pregnant with Carson, I felt deep down in my swollen ankles that I was going to rock this motherhood gig. After all, I dutifully scarfed down prenatal vitamins the size of a small buffalo everyday for nine months. Folic acid and I were tight. I slept on my left side, never sat…
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All photo credits via. First birthdays are worth celebrating because, let’s face it, you kept a tiny human alive for a whole entire year! You made it through teething and feedings and shots and falling off beds and every other adventure life with a new baby brings. Celebrate this occasion. It’s about you and your spouse…
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Have you ever been knee-deep and neck-high in a fog? Not just a I-could-use-a-second-cup-of-coffee fog, I’m talking about a will-this-last-forever? fog. The kind of fog that’s so dense, you can’t remember the warmth of the sun or the color of the sky. That kind of fog. A year after the birth of my first child, I feel…
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Dear Carson, This is certainly not the first “letter to my daughter” floating around on the Internet, but it is the first from me to you – so let that uniqueness mark it. Today, you are one year old. One, glorious year old. It’s been three-hundred and sixty-five days since you burst into our lives with all the…
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There is a joy in mothering that can be hard to find. At least for me, anyway. It hides behind sleepless night and tantrums. It fights for air beneath feelings of inadequacy and fear. Clingy, grabby hands threaten to steal it. It is masked by a sense of loss over figure or freedom. For some, the…
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Her eyelashes are without comparison. They curl so beautifully just above those clear, blue ocean-eyes of hers. She bats them, unassuming. Ensnaring the unsuspecting—me. Her lips are defined by a deep Cupid’s bow, held together by dimpled cheeks. They laugh or jabber, making elementary sense of language. And, O, those yummy baby thighs. Rolls upon…
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Dear Mama, Could we trade war stories? Last night, the fighting on my front reached a fever pitch. In the thick of it, I sent up a flare signal: “I don’t usually post updates like this, but would y’all please pray for Carson, Ben, and I? She has been inconsolable tonight, screaming and crying like nobody’s…
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