Among the many valuable lessons I find important to teach my three children, being grateful and giving back to those less fortunate is by far my top priority.
I am so excited to be back and debuting a brand new website to launch! Isn't this so exciting? I know I am super excited! The anticipation of this has been killing me for months now, but I wanted to make sure that I was ready to fully commit prior to launching this to the public. I had so much fun doing the Live Instagram launch last week with you all! I am so grateful for all of the love and support that surrounds me and encourages me to pursue my dreams with this website!
Just last month I was approached by a wonderful photographer asking if the kids and I would be willing to participate in a Mommy & Me lifestyle photoshoot at our home. I was slightly apprehensive to do the photoshoot because I was traveling for work (out of state) the entire week before and just flying in late the night before the photos in the morning – and let’s face it; I am a mom which means I’ve got some serious bags under my eyes as it is on any other given day! I was also a little nervous because our house has been under construction for some time now and didn’t have a completed staircase (and still isn’t!), and I don’t even have flooring in our living room and dining room. With all that being said, I said “Let’s do it!” anyways; I am so rarely in front of the camera with my little ones as I am main photo-taker so it seemed like a great opportunity for us.
The 12-week pregnant rule. Sort of like the “Wait 30 minutes after eating before swimming” rule. It’s really rarely said aloud but almost everyone thinks it. You may or may not suggest it. You may or may not encourage it. But guaranteed, you always think it. The moment you hear “You’re pregnant” the first thought is “I have to wait until 12 weeks to announce it.” Ok, maybe not your first thought; other thoughts might be “Oh crap!” “Again!?” or “Finally!”. But shortly after, you likely remind your spouse and the few close people around you who knew the moment you tinkled on that pregnancy test – “DO NOT TELL ANYONE FOR ANOTHER 7 WEEKS!”. And, should you be the recipient of such exciting news shared by a friend – don’t you always ask “Are you passed your first trimester, yet?” without hesitation? It’s not anything to be ashamed of or to feel guilty about. As women, we know. We know this unspoken rule. We live it. We breathe it. We hear it. Our doctors suggest it. We suffer through it.
I’ve never been a fan of the negative connotation that has on entering your 30’s. I don’t understand what is so bad about turning 30. Why does it have to be so miserable? Why must our 30’s be feared on our last day in our 20’s?
Even as I sit here and reflect on what it is that I want to write about in relation to being 30 vs 20, it is hard for me to grasp that I am actually 30. To be clear – I am 30 + 2.
Don’t get me wrong; this is not a “I cannot believe I am 30, I feel old, wah, wah, wah” post. Quite the contrary. This is me admitting that I am that salmon swimming upstream. I am the 32-year-old who has never felt better. I am so proud of how far that I have come and where my life is headed and I know that the confidence I have gained in my 30’s is a major contribution to that.
I think there is a wide misconception that being a mom of 3 children makes me (or any parent) an expert at parenting. Let me just shut that down right now. What being a mom of 3 actually means is that I know as much or as little as every other parent but that I am reminded of that 3 times more than a parent of 1 child. Being a mom of 3 means I learn things 3 times, I try 3 different ways of doing things (and, actually, this should be 3 x infinity), I fail 3 times (on average), and I have 3 very different little humans that stare up at me for answers – with most questions that need to be answered in 3 different ways in order to satisfy their different personalities.
Expert, I am not. Experienced, sure.
You know that moment when your baby turns 1 and you instantly have anxiety and think she’s going to be headed to college like tomorrow? Yeah. It’s a parent-thing. I swear that her first birthday sent me into complete hysterics. Not because I am super emotional or sentimental but because it hit me that this was the last time I’d be celebrating a FIRST birthday. My last baby was turning 1. I’d never experience this momentous occasion again. Sure, I have 3 kids who will all celebrate many special birthdays ahead, but this special moment also marked my last baby no longer being a baby… Excuse me while I go grab a tissue, I think there’s something in my eye…
At Hudson’s 2-year check up (though, if I am being honest, it was technically his 2 year and 4 month check up…oops) I expressed concern to his pediatrician about 2 issues; 1) his low weight/slow weight gain and 2) his frequent – if not constantly bad poops. In turn, the doctor also expressed concern regarding Hudson’s low weight gain and slow growth. He reviewed his records and discovered that he had basically fallen off the charts and he hadn’t gained more than 3 or so pounds since he was 9 months old. His height was also a very low growth compared to where he was forecast to be based on his growth chart and numbers since birth.
Hudson Maverick – the Birthday Boy!
Did you really think that I’d be able to go too long without posting a birthday party? I mean, clearly, it’s all that I do in my downtime – as if planning events for a living isn’t enough, I do it when I’m not working, also. I realize this might not be normal. But what can I say? I love parties. I love themed parties. I love planning for parties. And decorating for parties. And I especially love people enjoying those parties. So as long as everyone around me keeps wanting parties, parties I will have!
I try to keep my posts light and non-controversial in order to maintain a wide range of readers. I think I usually do a good job with it, too. So let me (not) apologize in advance for this post perhaps being a little controversial, but definitely very personal and real.
Mommy-Guilt. It’s real. And it sucks. As a parent all we want to do is provide the best for our children. We want them to get the best start in life. We want them to be the healthiest they can be. We want them to grow and thrive and surpass all growth expectations and be at the top of the charts. And for a lot of us, we want to be the ones that provide that for them. We want to be the reason they’re gaining weight and growing on-track. We want to provide them with all of their food & nutrients that their tiny little bodies need. And when we cannot do that? Yeah, that’s when the mommy-guilt kicks in. And man does it. Like a million kicks right to the stomach. For any mom who has even remotely felt that guilt, you get it. For the mommies who have been so fortunate to not feel it, count your blessings.