Ain't No Shame

I'd like to start a "Frankly Friday" segment. Or "Shameless Saturday". Or "Keepin' it Real <fill in the day of the week>" as I've heard on other blogs out there. This would be a time where I share things that I should consider embarrassing, but I just can't help but confess. Let the judgement begin.

1. Sometimes I want to put Oliver on a back pack leash.

No, I do not know that kid. And yes, I did google images for kids in back pack leashes. This is one of those things, that, until you're a parent, you just don't understand why they are invented. "Children are not dogs," they say. Oh yeah? Why do they run away like one then? How about you chase your 14 month old around downtown Birmingham on a Friday night because he refuses to stay in his stroller and doesn't want you to hold him and you might be singing a different tune. That's the moment you realize "Hey, a plush teddy bear harness leash would sure be awesome right now." Fear of the judgment from the childless gets the best of you and so you tuck that desire away...until your next outting. Say what you will, but those things were made for a reason. And hey, at least they're cute??

2. I still watch Glee. And I cried at last night's episode.

Some of you will say, "Katie, why are you embarrassed of this? That's not so bad." But then you must remember I'm a 28, almost 29 year old adult woman who is still watching a teen dramedy. And I don't even actually like it anymore. That's the embarrassing part. But for some reason I can't stop watching it.  I pretty much dislike most of the storylines now, they've gotten far too agenda-y for my taste, the new characters are kinda lame, the songs aren't as good (bring back the show tunes!), and HEY IT'S FOR 14 YEAR OLDS. It's like I'm afraid I'm going to miss something if I stop watching it. A TV show. That I don't even like. Insanity. And then I go and watch last night's episode, The Quarterback. An episode in which everyone bid farewell to the late Cory Monteith (aka Finn Hudson) and I wept like a small child. And need I repeat, I DON'T EVEN LIKE THE SHOW ANYMORE. Didn't stop me from watching it and crying like the pathetic little tween girl I am. Lame-o. Though I do have to admit, if you didn't cry at some point during that episode, your heart must be made of stone. Talk about a tear jerker. #andthatsnotthefirsttimeicriedwatchingglee #movingon

3. If I could, I would eat Cinnamon Toast Crunch everyday of my life.

Or any other delicious, sugary cereal. I love cereal. I practically lived off of it for a good portion of my childhood. However, I never buy it now as a responsible wife/mother/adult and do you know why? BECAUSE ALL I WANT IS THE TERRIBLE STUFF. Lucky Charms? Count Chocula? Cap'n Crunch? Yes please. Kashi-Go-Lean-I-Taste-Like-Cardboard-Crunch? PAAAAAAAAAASS. I do, however, like Raisin Bran, but I'm sure it has to be terrible for you in some way because rarely do I like something that isn't. So instead I just stick with my half a bagel (which isn't that great...I just love carbs...more on that later) and a banana for breakfast. Bor-ing, but at least the dia-beetus isn't calling my name...yet.

That's all for this week. Tune in next week when I'll probably forget to post more embarrassing shameless things. Forgive me in advance. 

Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants

Im an infrequent blogger. Sue me. I just tend to write when I feel compelled to do so. I have a couple of ideas floating about in my cranium for some posts, so bare (or is it bear...I digress) with me as you might get a blog overload here soon. 

Becoming a mom changes you. It changes you mentally (mom brain is real, people), emotionally (I can cry much easier now...boo), spiritually (Oh, let me count the ways), and last, but not least physically. This last one has probably been the hardest for me to grasp. 

You'll recall in an earlier post I lamented about my new body and the shame and embarrassment I felt over it. Feeling embarrassed to go to events with my husband because I was ashamed of the new body God had given me. Lies, lies, lies. I am here today to tell you that the old saying, "It gets better" is actually true.  

Just the other day I was feeling bummed because I LITERALLY had no jeans in our home that I could wear. None. That weren't maternity (and we are not there yet, folks). I had no clothes that fit last fall/winter (which is basically the same season in Alabama), especially jeans. I was far too depressed to purchase any in the size the stores SAID I wore (liars) so I protested and refused to buy any. Mature, I know. But I decided to suck it up and go look for some dang pants.  Worse case, I would leave depressed and I could go get some yogurt after (because it helps. Trust me.). None of that was needed, friends. I found not one, but TWO pairs of jeans that fit great AND were in a size I could deal with. Were they the same size I used to wear? Um, doubtful. But they fit, and fit well.

**On a complete side note, the more I shop for jeans, the more I realize I literally cannot wear cheap denim. Call me a denim snob, but I end up wasting my money at Old Navy or Target only to have a diaper butt or muffin top after about 5 minutes. However, my love and desire for expensive denim is hindered by my wicked tight budget. BUT FEAR NOT! For that is what Nordstrom Rack is for. Designer jeans at half the price? Yes, please. I could write an entire post about jeans...don't get me started.**

Let me back up and state that I have been taking care of myself in order to find these magic traveling pants of wonder. I work out 4-5 days a week (and in mom world, that's a lot, people) and I've set up a routine so that I HAVE to go. And the truth is, I enjoy it. O gets a break from me and gets a chance to develop some social skills and I get to burn some calories. It's a win/win. It's a nice, and welcomed, break in the day. I don't say all this to make myself look awesome. Im not at all. I'm simply saying that me being comfortable and confident with me has taken work. I still have the pallet of a five year old when it comes to the foods I love, but I'm working on it. And truth is I have to eat better because I'm forcing my child to eat well. Talk about accountability. 

I know everyone who has seen me for the past year has thought, "Hey she has a cute kid and husband, but she looks borderline homeless most of the time." I'm working my way out of homeless status, friends. I have come to grips with the fact that no matter how hard I work, my body may never be the same as it was BC (before children ;) ). My hips are wider, things aren't quite as perky as they once were, but that's ok. I know my worth does not rest in physical appearance, but The Lord does call us to take care of ourselves. That's a fact, Jack. Will I ever get rid of my pre-Ollie jeans? Probably not. I like to hold on to the ghost because, hey, ya never know...

Meanwhile...how cute is he?

End of an Era

It's no secret to anyone who knows me (or has read this blog) that I am a bit of a lactivist. For the past year, I have subscribed to the notion "breast is best" even when it was not what I wanted to do. When I had Oliver, I set a goal for myself that I was going to nurse him for a whole year. I HAD to do it because 1.-it was what was best and healthiest for my child (even if I do eat cookies with my lunch...there are vitamins in chocolate chips, right?) and 2.-we literally couldn't afford for me not to do it. Those are the cold hard facts. Well, I am here to say that 14 months later, I did it. I met my goal. ::cue wild applause here::

It seems slightly unreal. I. Did. It. Me. The person who sometimes stops mid-workout because "I'm tired," and "It's really hard." Without a doubt, nursing is the hardest thing I have ever done. In fact, during those workouts where I want to quit, I remind myself, "Well, you didn't quit nursing even when you hated life and everyone else, so finish you big sissy." But seriously, it was so hard. My motto to anyone is, if you can make it past the first 6 weeks then you can do it. Those 6 weeks seem like an eternity. I can remember hearing other moms say that to me and at the time thinking, well yeah but their baby can't be as lazy/sleepy/terrible an eater/"underweight"/tiny/fill in the blank of horribleness as MY baby. But now I know. They're all terrible in the beginning. Now, there are those rare exceptions who come out of the womb, eating like a boss and sleeping like a champ. Mine did the second thing REALLY well. Too well. All he wanted to do was sleep. And sleep. And sleep. Don't know if you know this, but you can't really eat well if you're asleep. Brand new information, I know. And not to mention I had not the FAINTEST idea what I was doing. I dove head first into a world full of words like nipple shield, engorgement, lansinoh, let-down, clogged ducts, flax seed, fenugreek, and on and on and on. I thought it would be simple. You have the baby, you put them to your boob, they eat, they poop, you change them, they sleep, you're done. Eventually, yes, this happens. But in between several of those steps insert crying hysterically, from mom or baby and hey, sometimes BOTH. Because that is reality. 

I don't write this to make mothers who didn't nurse, or couldn't nurse, for whatever reason, feel bad. There are so many odds stacked against us. Supply issues, latch issues, pumping, returning to work, medication, adoption, the list goes on and on. You did what was best for your baby, mama, and don't let anyone take that away from you. It's not for everyone and thankfully we live in age where you don't have to find a wet nurse from the village down the lane to feed your baby. There is formula. Thank the Lord. I write this, however, to encourage new mamas or mamas to be that you can make it. You can do it. I didn't have super debilitating issues, but I still had issues. It's so hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel, the rainbow in the midst of the storm, but it's there, waiting for you! Ready to shine its glorious light upon you! Remember this: It. Will. Get. Better.

I did it. I made it through those 6 weeks. And then I made it to 3 months. Then 6 months. Then 9. And now all of a sudden I have a one year old who drinks almond milk (he's a snob, what can I say) and doesn't need me the same way anymore. It's bittersweet. Weaning Oliver has been a lot more of an emotional experience than I thought it would be. Let's be real, its been like two days since I last nursed him, so the emotions are a little fresh. I mean, for over a year now, my body has not been my own. I have had my life and schedule revolve around when this little boy needs to eat and I was the only one who could meet that need and comfort him in that way. I was needed. I know I still am, but it's not the same. Those sweet tender moments are some of my favorite. I'll never get them back, but I'll treasure them always. 

So hang in there, new mama. Rest is just around the corner. And if not, that's why God invented the breast pump...and the daddy. ;)

Busy

College.

Those were some good times.

I can remember being in college, living in the sorority house, telling everyone just how "busy" I was. I had "such little time to do anything but school and work."

I want to slap college me in the face.

College Katie didn't really know the meaning of the word "busy."

If you have time for 2 1/2 hour naps in your cold and cozy dorm room, College Katie, you are not "busy."

If you can skip biology class for the 100th time and go grab lunch at Foosackly's for hours on end and still pull out an A in the class, you, College Katie, are not "busy."

If you can hang out with your friends on the pier discussing deep issues of life and theology, you, my sweet precious College Katie, are NOT "busy."

But to me I was.

I'm not going to lie, I loved college. I didn't have the college experience that most had; it wasn't filled with wild weekends and crazy parties, but it was awesome. I learned about God. I learned how to love Him, how to study His word, how to struggle, how to come of out that struggle, and how to love myself because He first loved me. Some of my sweetest and most treasured friendships come from my college years. We were immature, yet we had it all together. We spent summers together. There were Beach Projects and trips to Mexico and everything in between. We suffered. We yearned for Eden. We longed for something better. And then we really grew up.

Some got married. Some continue to wait on a spouse. Some had babies. Some lost babies. Some wait on babies still to come. Many lose touch. We make new friends. We all long to be known. And then we feel "busy" all over again. 

If you ask me now, I will tell you I'm the busiest I've ever been. If you asked me five years ago, I would tell you the same thing. Talk to me in 2018 and I'll probably be singing the same song and dance and be wanting to slap "New Mom Katie" in face along with "College Katie." But the difference is, now, I rejoice in the busy. For God heard my prayers; He granted me the desires of my heart and He didn't have to do that. Not at this point in my life. What a joy. What a treasure. What a Savior.

So join with me in rejoicing in the busy. It just means you have more to be thankful for today and the days to come.

One Whole Year of Wonderful

I love my son.  I do.  To me, he is the cutest thing that I have ever seen.  He makes me laugh and smile (and sometimes cry and frown) all the time.  He's awesome. I wanted to take a minute to share with you all some of my favorite things about him and what he is up to at 12 months of age.

Oliver has truly never met a stranger.  I know some people say that about their babies, but seriously, the kid loves everyone.  At Bed, Bath, and Beyond last week we were walking around and he saw this sweet older lady and he just toddled right over to her and threw his arms in the air as if to say, "There you are! I've been looking for you everywhere!"  She told me she would take him home right then and there.  She can't have him, though.  He's too sweet to give away.

He is a happy baby.  Sure, he has his moments of whining and fussiness (though I'm sure his grandmothers and grandfather would NEVER believe that), but he's just good.  Again, I know a lot of people say that about their babies, but this is really true.  He smiles and waves at everyone.  He doesn't get sad when I leave him at babysitting at the gym (YET...).  He's just super easy-going.  He must get that from his dad.  I'm honestly not sure what we did, but Ben and I pray for all our babies to be as sweet as Oliver. However, we're sure the Lord will throw us some curve balls.  Gotta keep things interesting!

He loves his dog.  He seriously thinks Talulah is his best friend.  He chases her around, grabs her beard, touches her ears, and giggles at the noises she makes ALL. THE. TIME.  I love it.  There is nothing sweeter than watching a little boy love on his dog and I am so excited to see how the relationship between the two of them unfolds.  Talulah has been mighty sweet and patient with her new playmate.  I'm sure she wouldn't have picked him on her own, but I know she's glad to have him around.  It's better than being stuck in a crate all day, am I right?!

He's very inquisitive.  He wants to know about everything.  If he is awake, he is moving.  Whether that is taking all the toys off all the shelves or dumping the puzzles out for the 900th time that day, he is a busy, busy boy.  He loves to climb on everything. He loves being outside (and trying to eat rocks--so far, he has been unsuccessful) and going for rides in his new wagon.  He just sings to himself and is searching the whole time he is riding.  I know...I'll stop with the cuteness.

He's a good eater.  His favorite foods would include bananas, cheese, green beans, cheese, yogurt,  cheese, mangos, cheese, sweet potatoes, and did I mention cheese?  The boy loves cheese.  He really loves any fruit and most veggies.  I have found if there is something he doesn't like, it's generally to do with texture (he is his mother's son, after all).  Like all kids, some days he is an awesome eater and will eat whatever I put in front of him.  Then he decides the next day that it's disgusting and Talulah would really like to eat it instead.  See...loves his dog.

He's a passionate little fella. He loves hard. And he will get his feelings hurt if you take that thing he loves away. He has recently started to cry everytime his Aunt Kellee leaves our house. It's enough to break your heart, I tell you! He also really loves random inanimate objects. Particularly long animate objects: spoons, drumsticks, wands, whatever. He loves to carry them around all day and will have a full on meltdown when you try to take them away. Sorry, baby. Mamas gotta cook.

He loves standing on his head. I don't really feel like that needs explaining and I don't know the why of it, but he does. Sweet little weirdo. 

Most of all, he loves his papa.  I have loved watching Oliver get older because it's so fun to watch him notice things.  When he was 6 months old, he never really noticed when Ben came home.  Now when Ben walks in the door, he stops whatever he is doing, gets up, and runs as fast as his tiny little legs will carry him to greet him at the door.  STOP.  I know, it will melt your heart.  It has been a joy watching Ben love on his son and I can't to see what all his papa will teach him in the years to come.  He is a blessed little boy and we are even more blessed parents to have him in our lives.  Thanks for being you, little boy. 

Back to School, Back to School...

School is back in session.  I know I only have a one year old (what?! more on that later), but this time of year will always hold a special place in my heart. Before I was a mama, I was a 2nd grade teacher.  There's a saying that families breed teachers, and in my family, that is definitely the case.  My mother, sister, several aunts, uncles, and cousins are all educators.  Some elementary, some middle, some high school, but they are there.  Every day.  Giving their time, money, and sanity to a thankless profession with endless demands. 

I miss it sometimes (feel free to have me committed at any time).

Don't get me wrong, I love being a stay at home mom, but around this time of year, I get a little homesick for teaching.  The new folders, pencils, crayons, glue, backpacks, and lunchboxes do something to my heart that I can't explain.  I get this little tug that says, "Are you SURE you did the right thing?"  Of course I know the answer to that, but it doesn't mean I don't miss it.  I miss the stories.  I miss the things that came out of those little mouths, be them kind or not.  I miss their little laughs and their scared faces on the first day.  I miss their hugs and constant words of encouragement (I was ALWAYS beautiful in the eyes of a 2nd grader ;) ).  I miss my colleagues and grown up conversation.  I was blessed to work with some very fun, wonderful, and encouraging women (and few good men ;)) for four sweet years.  They will always hold a special place in my heart and I will always treasure those friendships.  I miss a lot of things, but then I remember...

I remember all the stress and anxiety that comes with teaching.  The money you spend from your own pocket to buy extra supplies and snacks.  All the changes you have to make year after year.  You learn a curriculum, only to have it changed the next year.  I've only been gone a year now and already so much has changed.  Thankfully I have a principal mom and a teacher sister to keep in the loop, but it's crazy, I tell you.  You are constantly at the mercy of someone who hasn't been in a classroom since they were in school but wants to dictate what you must do in order to have a successful year.  I remember calling my mom often my first year, in tears, telling her, "This is NOT what I went to school to do!  I didn't learn how to do ANY of this in college!"  I had a flair for the dramatics, what can I say? ;)  And then I remember my sweet baby boy.  I remember all the things I would be missing and all the time I would not be giving to him and I remember why I made the choice that I did.

Teacher-Mamas, my hat TRULY goes off to you.  I really don't know how you do it.  From loving 20 babies that aren't your own for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, to go home to love on the one baby/babies that belong to you is a task I'm not sure I could do.  I'm sure I would adapt and figure it out, but I applaud you. You are a better woman that me. It is not easy and no one but you knows what you're sacrificing to do the two hardest jobs in the world at the same time.  You are a super star...don't forget it. 

Whenever someone asks me what I do, I always tell them, "Well, I was a teacher, but I'm a stay at home mom now." And my sweet husband always corrects me.  He reminds me often that I am still a teacher. Sure it's not in the traditional sense, but I am teaching my child every day.  I don't get a fun classroom to decorate, but I am responsible for his academic well being until that sweet nugget toddles off to kindergarten (STOP--I am already emotional just thinking about it).  That is a whole new pressure.  It's one thing to be held accountable for the academic success of another person's child, but when it's your own that is a whole new ballgame. 

I am thankful for every moment in the past year I have had with my boy, but that doesn't mean each year when August rolls around, I won't get that same little tug on my heart.  I just have to remind myself, "Once a teacher, always a teacher."

Things I Took for Granted

As I write this post, I am less than 48 hours away from having a one year old.  INSANITY.  I can remember this time so well last year...I was just a few hours away from the beginning stages of labor and my world being forever changed.  I love the change.  Normally, I am not a fan of change.  In fact, I think I may have a legit phobia of it...I swear it has to be a medical condition, BUT I have loved the little change Oliver has brought to my life.  However, if I am being real, there are some things from my pre-parent life that, looking back, I would have definitely appreciated a lot more.  A lot.  Now side note, please don't take this list to mean I don't love or appreciate the precious gift the Lord has given me, because I very much do.  Now, in no particular order, they are...

1. Naps
Ok, I have said it before, and I'll say it again, a year into this parenting thing and I still subscribe to the notion "sleep when the baby sleeps" but here's the thing about those sleeps; they're not good.  When I finally get O down for a nap and settle down or finish whatever wifely task I was doing and I go to close my eyes just for a little bit, he wakes up.  I swear, it's like he can HEAR my eyes closing.  It boggles the mind really.  Occasionally we will both take a glorious nap at the same time (I'm talking HOURS here, people) but those are rare (for me, not for him). I can remember when I was little and my mother telling me "I just want to rest my eyes for a minute, Katie," and I never really understood that concept BUT NOW I GET IT.  Mama just wants to rest her eyes, little Ollie.  I mean, in college, I could nap with the best of them.  I should have minored in Napology, but now I'm the worst.  So enjoy those long, luscious naps while you still can because your mind will be filled with checklists and clutter before you know it.

2. Freedom to come and go
I don't know if you know this, but you can't just leave whenever you want when you have a baby.  There is no "Hey, I'm going out with my ladies tonight, husband, I'll see you later!" because HEY YOU HAVE A BABY.  I mean, you CAN do these things, but it takes like two weeks worth of prior planning.  And then you worry.  Did I leave enough milk?  Did I lay out his PJs?  Will he get to sleep without me there?  Did they remember to give him his lovey?  Drama, drama, drama.

3. Trips to the Grocery Store
I can remember pre-Oliver Ben and I used to go and do the grocery shopping in the evenings together.  It was cute, really.  He was my little list reader and checker and I would go and get all the stuff we needed.  It was awesome.  Now that I am staying at home, I decided that grocery shopping would be my responsibility.  Not so hard, right? Wrong.  When Oliver was little, shopping was easy.  I would strap him into the Ergo and we were good to go.  Now, he has decided, "Hey I want to grab everything and also I want to stand up in the cart while it's moving and then also wave to everyone.  I'm a baby, deal with it."  In order to prevent this, I find myself talking to him the whole time.  Not about anything in particular, just the color of the fruit, what is on the aisle, you know, boring stuff.  Now all this talking makes me forget what I'm looking for which makes my trips seem to take twice as long, but hey, at least they're entertaining.

4. Basically Trips Anywhere
Tying into my number 3 would be trips anywhere.  Bringing a child with you somewhere requires a small closet of supplies:  diapers, wipes, bottles (if you need them), snacks, food, toys, sippy cups, books, a change of clothes (if needed), bibs, loveys, blankets, your sanity...you get the picture.  I remember people giving us the advice to go out to eat when the baby is teeny tiny and all they do is sleep because it's so much easier then and THEY WERE RIGHT.  Now, I don't mind going out to eat with Oliver now because he can participate in the meal, but that awkward in between time when he could kinda sit up but wasn't eating solids or table food was pretty much the pits.  He would cry.  He would whine.  So we quickly learned that going out to eat was a luxury we just didn't really feel like dealing with...and I have a pretty easy baby.  And going out of town??  Our little accord is packed so full that poor Talulah has to sit on top of bags or on the floorboard in the backseat just to have a place to sit...bless her.  She should be on a whole new list of "Things I don't take care of as good as I used to now that I have a baby."  Sorry, T. :(

5. Eating a Warm Meal
This is pretty self explanatory and something I feel is just going to get worse and worse the more babies we have.  One tradition I always loved growing up was that my family always ate dinner together.  We were never a eat in front of the TV or sit in the living room family.  In fact, that TV wasn't really allowed on during dinner time.  So, something we have started to implement now that O is eating solids is family meal time.  It's one of my favorite times of day (awww, I know, I'm sweet), but meal time is a lot of work for mamas.  I mean, by the time I fix everyone's plates, get silverware/drinks out, cut up O's food in to tiny non-choking pieces, place them on his tray, go back and get the napkins I forgot for the 12th time, put a bib on him, go back and fill up the sippy cup I forgot to fill when I was getting our drinks, my meal is no longer that "just from the oven hotness" that we all love.  It's "hey I've been sitting here a minute but I'm still good" warm.  I suppose I should enjoy that warmth now, while I can shouldn't I?

6. Relaxation
I love to read, especially to relax.  Since I've had Oliver, I can't remember the last time I read a book.  I mean, a whole book.  Just for fun.  I've started books, but haven't been so good at finishing them.  Now, I will say that occasionally during nap time, I will snag an episode of whatever rotten TV show I'm into (right now it's Call the Midwife and Nashville...don't judge me), but I'm always thinking about the things I could be doing instead, so I'm not fully relaxed, but then again, who really is?  Also, I used to LOVE (and if you know me, you know this is true) laying out by the pool (especially the Club MTV pool at my old apartment...RIP) and getting a lovely tan.  Now fear of skin cancer (bring on the 50spf) and a child have prevented such leisurely activities.  I do still get to go to the pool and I have a decent tan on my arms and shoulders, but legs are just as pasty white as when summer began.  This would be because they're always in the pool and not lounging around like I used to...ahhh, memories.

7. Doing things with BOTH hands
Mamas are the queens of multi-tasking.  No one ever said that was a good thing, but we get the job done, that's for sure.  Cooking dinner while holding a baby is not an easy task and neither is chopping the ingredients for said dinner but sometimes a mamas gotta do what a mamas gotta do.  You would think brushing your teeth one handed would be pretty simple too, but you use that other hand way more than you think you do.  Now, if Oliver is having a particularly needy day/week, I'll just put him in the Ergo.  Whoever invented baby carriers/wraps is a genius and I want to kiss them on the lips.  Some days I really don't know what I would do without it. If you are a mama or are going to be a mama and you aren't sure about this concept of "wearing" a baby, DO IT.  And do it often.  The end.

8. Adult Decor
So, when you walk into my house, there is no doubt that a baby lives here.  From the brightly colored activity jumper to the toys all around, you know a child is lurking somewhere.  When Oliver was really little, it seriously looked like a baby had thrown up in our house.  Swings, bouncy seats, pack n plays, activity jumpers, and johnny jump ups filled our house.  Here's the thing...why can't they make baby stuff in nice calming colors?  Ok, I'm an educator, I know why, but still.  I'm not the world's best homemaker, but it would be a whole lot cooler if all their little contraptions and gadgets fit with the generally color scheme of my house.  First world problems?  You bet.

9. Uninterrupted Conversations
I know this one will only get worse.  "Don't touch...now what were you saying?" is already a phrase I am using far more often than I ever thought I would.  I know in order to be a good mom, and to do my job well, I have to pay attention to my child.  To pay attention to my child means I cannot pay as much attention to adult conversations as I once did.  This does not mean you can't have them (and you should...often...and about things not pertaining to children, if you can), but those conversations, like those grocery trips, just might take twice as long.  Such is life though, right?  

10. The Freedom to Put any Object Anywhere I Want
Those scissors you were using or that remote you never thought about or that glass of water on the edge of the table are all the perfect toy to a one year old.  I mean, everything in our home now is basically sitting 3 feet or higher because O is a very curious and inquisitive little soul.  He's a genius, he can't help it.  He wants to know about EVERYTHING.  I even tried giving him an old remote that we don't use so that he could play with it and leave ours alone, but he's too smart to know that mom and dad never use that one and he only wants to the one that we use.  This is what the stuff of academic legends are made of, people.  He is literally OBSESSED with the dogs food and water bowl so much so that we can only put them down when he is sleeping...and sometimes we even forget to do that.  Again, Talulah, your parents are the worst.  Please forgive us. 

I'm sure there are so many more things that I didn't enjoy to their fullest in my pre-baby life, but honestly, it's okay.  Even the things I listed, I wouldn't trade for anything.  It's all about perspective, I suppose. Ben and I have been blessed from above with one of the happiest, sweetest, silliest, most inquisitive little baby boys around.  He truly gets more fun every single day.  We are not lucky; we are blessed. Being a mom is one of the funnest things I've been given the honor of doing.  I get to help raise a person.  Sometimes I can't believe the Lord would trust me with such a task! I get to watch him learn new things and take his first steps and say his first words and that is something that I wouldn't trade for anything.  This past year has been tough, but it has been my favorite time in my life.  It is the most responsible and adult-like I've ever had to be, but I'm completely fine with that.  Everyone has to grow up at some point, and I guess I'm on my way. ;)