Living the Year Faithfully

It's been awhile since I have braved this blog. To be honest, I scared myself away these last few months. I blame it on being a bit too emotional, and a little too worried to share anymore than I already have. 2017 was a bit crazy. We made a lot of joyful changes in our home, and we also lost a few of the ones that we love. It was a rough year- filled with a lot of love and a lot of fear. 

I know words of the year are a bit corny in a trendy way. I agree. Of course, you know I am about to confess that I have one. :) Faithful. My word for the year is faithful. Don't worry. I only have eyes for my husband of course. When I looked up the definition though...
(Dictionary.com) Faithful- 1. Strict or thorough in the performance of duty 2. True to one's word, promises, vows, etc. 3. Steady in allegiance or affection; loyal; constant 4. Reliable, trusted, or believed 5. Adhering or true to fact, a standard, or an original; accurate 6. Obsolete. Full of faith; believing
(Thesaurus.com) Affectionate   Allegiant  Attached   Behind One   Confiding   Conscientious   Constant   Dependable   Devoted   Dutiful   Enduring   Firm   Genuine   Hard Core   Honest   Honorable   Loving   Obediant   Resolute   Truthful   Upright   Sincere 
When I take my life in as a whole, consider all that reaches out for my attention, take into account all I do, all I must do, all I need, it is a lot to take in. There are so many distractions in my life, so many joy-suckers, attention stealers, time wasters. (I'm certain these terms exist.) It's not just social media either, though I admit I hit that Instagram button way more often than I want to admit. It's people who hurt me (mostly by hurting my loved ones and that hurts more than anything). It's comments or thoughts I have had shared with me in the past that created fears and battles that I choose to fight or contemplate fighting on a daily basis, though honestly it all leads nowhere. It's worries I cannot fight, responsibilities that are not mine, and drama that leads to nowhere that somehow makes its way to my desk. I know I shouldn't, or that I should at least be smart enough by now to trash it, but, y'all I hold onto every bit of it like it is of the utmost importance and must be handled with care. These things pile up. They all eat up not only my brainpower, but my patience, my emotions, my energy. More importantly, they eat up space in my heart and my time. So much time. 
God made me purposefully, and He blesses and builds intentionally. Calling out all the noise and casting it aside, I look at what is left. I see what has been crying out for more of my attention and it is the work I love the most in this life- being Justin's wife & Reagan's mommy. Marriage and motherhood aren't smiled on in our day and age. It is work that is more or less summed up as mere sex and diapers. The true potential, the real work, the real importance of both go unnoticed. 
If I were to grade myself according to all aspects of my job, my role, as a wife and mother, would I say I have been truly faithful to my calling thus far? Some days. There are some days, some moments, where, yes, I can say I have been truly faithful to those I love in every way. Have I been truly faithful all of the time though? No. Have I been strict with myself in my performance of duty? Have I been completely reliable; adhering to all agreements I made with my husband? Have I put the interests of my husband and our family ahead of my own selfish, brief whims and emotions? Have I kept to the standard I hold for myself- the standard which God describes in Proverbs 31- as a woman, a wife, and a mother? Have I been always affectionate, always truthful, always dutiful, always reliable, always honorable, always dependable, always constant, always resolute in my actions, my decisions, my words each day? No. Regretfully, no. I want to change this. 
Through all that happened last year in our life, I felt God changing my heart. I saw Him moving things around, making things happen for us here and there. I thought at first that He was making these adjustments to help us grow bigger; to help our family grow larger to be exact. Now, I believe He did these things to grow me, and thus grow us as a family together. My husband is the head of our family, let there be no mistake that I see and respect his position. Still, I grew up my entire life hearing my mother tell me of the great opportunities, the great power I would have in life one day. I also grew up hearing my daddy point out whenever we were alone how incredibly faithful my mother was to us in all she did and said. I've lived these last few years loving, but not acting fully in that love; watching, but not truly seeing; feeling, but not truly appreciating; planting, but not truly nourishing. No more. I know there will be slip ups along the way. I know this path God has set me on is filled with ruts and obstacles with each step, but I also know He has given me the ability to overcome them all with the love He has placed in my heart. Halfheartedly loving is really halfheartedly living. I should know because it pretty much sums up a lot of my choices in life. I want to look back on my life and know I tried my hardest; I gave my all. I want my children to know they are, and have always been, loved. I want my husband to know I have loved him to the fullest. I want that love to show in my faithfulness to my husband, to our family, and to our God because this work matters more than any other work I could ever be given.
This new light has really given me so much more hope and determination in going forward. 2017 was hard, leaving all sorts of possibilities in the steps ahead. You know I have made notes and lists of what actions exactly I want to take in this new year as I attempt to be completely faithful to those I love. For now though, I am just going to post this one note- the mindset behind all that comes next. From here on out will just be step by step effort. January so far has been pretty interesting. Hopefully I will have more to share soon. 
Anyone else looking forward to this new year?

Mischievians Birthday Party- Reagan Turns 2!

A little late, but I finally have all of the details from Reagan's 2nd birthday party pieced together. I have to say, I am pretty proud of us. It came together just as I had hoped, and our friends and family could not have made it any more exciting a celebration than they did. I think it is safe to say that we all had fun that day.

For Reagan's party theme this year, we chose "The Mischievians" by William Joyce. It is an adorable children's book about all of the little mischief makers in our homes that keep us on our toes (ex. The Remote Toter, The Stinker, The Sticky). What better way to celebrate our own little mischief maker, I thought. The only problem with this plan is that this book has no party decor to purchase, meaning we had to get creative. Yay!!!

All art supplies from Michaels - Envelopes ordered from Amazon

Custom stickers printed by Sticker You

First up were the invitations. Y'all, I really struggled with these. I lost track of how many times I opened the book in search of an idea on how to incorporate the characters into an invitation. The story plays out that 2 children, tired of being blamed for missing homework they've completed, missing remote controls, and mysterious smells, write to a doctor in search of answers. Of course, this is not an average doctor who can be reached by phone or with stamp envelope. The children instead send their letter via red balloon. With this in mind, I finally had an idea. First, we purchased a copy of "The Mischievians" for each family we were inviting. Thanks to the vintage-styled themes of Mr. Joyce's books, I was able to use a little metal, a little natural-toned paper, and a little whimsy. Justin scanned and printed out the image from the book I needed. I had found some adorable "Happy Birthday" balloon banner stickers to place across the top of the image so our guests would know it was a birthday invite. We placed the invitations in old envelopes I had found on Amazon, laid our invite on top of the book, and wrapped in some blue and white string I had found. Last, but definitely not least, we attached a single red balloon to the other end of our string. Obviously due to the size these were hand-delivered, but it honestly made it all the more fun. Reagan was so excited to take the invitation to his Aunt Ariel for her to take home. He made sure she took note of the balloon.

As for the decor, I took a picture of the book cover to have on hand on my phone. We bought most of the basics (balloons, utensils, streamers, etc.) in one stop at a local party store. I knew that we would need to include the characters from the book on a few things, too. 

For our plates, we ordered the personalized plates from Birthday Express. Justin scanned in the images we wanted, adjusted them to size, and hit order. I was even able to include a short description on the plates of each mischievian we used.

We printed images of a few of our favorite mischievians for our picture frames in the living room. 

Justin and I purchased milk bottles to use as cups for our party. We loved the style as well as the option this provided in using them for future birthday parties for our babies. To have them match our theme a little better though, we had stickers made up at StickerYou. 

I learned my lesson when it came to planning the menu from last year. Rather than making every dish that could possibly match our theme, I decided on just a few good dishes this time. Of course, I am big on not wanting our company to go hungry (big no-no as a hostess, I believe), so I made plenty for second helpings. Without a large menu, this was a much less stressful job this year. 

First on the menu was a delicious fruit salad I had found on Pinterest. I will use just about any excuse to have lots of fruit in our house, but truly, y'all, this salad has something for everyone and it is so bright and happy.

I made up some sugar cookies to look like mischievians (or I should probably say mischievian-ish). I found an easy sugar cookie recipe on Pinterest. I was going to make the icing myself, but I ended up buying the frosting in the store. The three colors were just so vibrant and perfect for what I was looking for, I couldn't pass on it. I did allow the cookies to sit out for awhile after icing them since it was cake frosting I had used. Stacking them carefully and placing them in the fridge worked out great though. Much to my relief, the cookies did not stick together. 

To fight some of that sugar rush we would all undoubtedly be battling, I made up sausage balls. Sticking to the theme or not, sausage balls are just plain good. Reagan loves them, so it made sense to serve them up at his party. 

I decided a bit at the last minute to purchase some vintage candy. Thanks to Justin, I learned of a great little candy store right around the corner from our house that offers candy and snacks in bulk. It was so much fun! I could have bought a ton. Realizing we would mostly be entertaining adults, I decided to behave myself. It was hard though. 

The cake was tricky. I went back and forth for most of this year on whether or not to make Reagan's cake myself. Should I try my hand at fondant? Should I attempt lots of cake pops (which have been harder than I ever imagined so far)? Should I have the cake made? Could I possibly make the cake in my head simply using frosting even with my lack of experience? Eventually, I decided we should buy the cake this year. So far, planning for Reagan's party this year had been fun and not nearly as stressful as last year. I knew I would throw that away the night before the party in a fit of tears while staring down at a mess of a cake. One weekend while we were out, Justin took us by the bakery that had made the cakepops for our wedding. I was so excited walking in and thinking they would be making our baby's cake. Well, after showing him a picture of the book and picking the cake size, the gentleman behind the counter asked for the party date. That did it. They were booked and there was no way I was changing Reagan's party date for anything. All the other bakeries were closed, so I was back at square one for the next few days. The more I thought about, the more I hated how much we were going to spend on this cake. I remembered the cutest ice cream cake I had found on Dairy Queen's website a few months back, and quickly began searching "The Mischievians" book for a character that favored the cake. Low and behold, I found them!!!! I ordered the cake as fast as possible, and I could not have been happier with how it turned out. The cake decorator got a little creative and had changed her frosting tip. The actual cake we got looked even better than online. It tasted delicious, too. While it was only supposed to feed up to 8 people, ours actually fed 11 with plenty of leftover. (Also, just a tip, the price online can differ by location. Our cake showed as $30 online, but ended up being around $20!!!)  

We didn't want our friends and family to leave without a thank you. Our treat bags were fitting with the theme. I bought natural toned paper bags from Michaels, and added Mischievians stickers we had had made to the front. Inside, we filled the bags with items to help survive the little mischievians in our lives. There were candles for The Stinky, and hand sanitizer for The Sticky. We typed up each item and their matching mischievian. I made up the design on Canva, while Justin printed them up on cardstock for me. Thankfully, everyone seemed to enjoy the goodies and got a good laugh. 

The only non-blurry picture we had. You officially know we watch tv. :)

For all of the planning and prepping, there is simply no way I could have hoped Reagan's party could have gone any better than it did. Our sweet boy was loved on so very much. Justin and I could not be happier with how excited Reagan was with the whole thing. He is quite the little host, let me tell you. He blew out his candle in one try, and he dove into his presents. I even managed to regain control of our extremely excited child for just long enough to get him to say thank you this year. (He was far too quiet last year to work with me on that one.) Our friends stayed to visit afterwards, and my family stayed for the "after party" to piece together his new toys and play until we were all exhausted. It was truly a blast. Seeing the difference between Reagan last year at his party and this year was really exciting. Our sweet boy has grown so much over the last year, and we are so proud of the precious boy we have been given. 

Our 2nd Baby

I don't know how to do this. At first, I told Justin I couldn't say anything. I didn't want anyone else to know. We had told so few people as it was. To share our sad news for a cause, for some sort of awareness seemed too painful, too detached. I don't want to encourage awareness. From that first chapter in our "What to Expect" books, to that first article we read concerning our new pregnancy, we see it. We are all aware it could happen to us- with or without explanation. We just hope and pray it never will. So, no, I am not sharing this to make anyone aware of statistics because in all honesty that helps no one. Numbers have nothing to do with this.  I also do not feel shamed- not by those who have never experienced this, and certainly not by those who have. I am in pain. I am grieving a child I had, and yet did not meet. I am grieving a life I was responsible for, I was allowed to carry, but not capable of saving and never allowed to hold. My body physically aches. Being exhausted one week ago was a symptom I celebrated, as it was one of the few symptoms I had with this little one. I was growing a life that I have always loved and always prayed for. Now I am exhausted because of the pain, and because of the grief.  I keep trying to rush this. I want to skip this part of my life with almost every fiber of my being; skip to the part where I have accepted and can simply speak with love. Instead, I am angry. I am angry that I am not carefree and happy with my life, and the beautiful mess that fills it at times. I am angry that I can't go back and stop this. I am angry at the empty place inside. I am angry at the pain, and I am angry at the process. I am angry at how helpless I feel; how helpless I was when it started to happen. Every few minutes there is another reminder of where my baby was, of where they are still supposed to be. I want the pain to stop. I want the physical reminder to go away, and yet I am holding onto it all. It is all I have left. It is the only thing making what has happened real to me. It is the only part explaining to my brain why my heart is breaking. I can laugh at Reagan as he plays, or tease with my husband for a moment, but the grief is still there. The physical pain, as hard as it is, is helping even as it is hurting.  I can't breathe from the tears threatening me at any minute. As I fight to still be Mommy to the precious boy in front of me, I struggle knowing he has a sister or brother that he won't see in April. I struggle knowing that I know more about them than he does. I struggle knowing he has no idea who he has just lost, but I do. A brother and sister are a gift- an irreplaceable gift. My sweet boy just lost a friend, a confidant, a sparring partner to keep him in check. I keep talking to Justin aloud, like as if I can say it enough or replay it a certain number of times, I will accept it. As if the secret to remembering how to live, how to be happy, how to accept where our baby is now will be in the facts. I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to be Mommy to this baby. I don't know how to reach them. I know that isn't my job with them. I know that they don't need me where they are, but my heart doesn't know how to accept it.  I can not shake the feeling of being undone, incomplete, unfinished. My body knows how to grow a baby. My body knows how not to attack my baby, how to fuel my baby. Why didn't it finish its task? Why did it stop? While I've never expected my body to ask my permission before, I will not lie that, yes, I expected to be asked now. I would never have said okay. I would never have said to stop. I would never have said we were done. I am angry that it could start such precious work and then stop. While my body moves on, I feel trapped to watch, to assist, to accept what I don't want to. I want no part in this and yet I have nowhere to go. It's done. It's happened. What happens next is all I can decide, but I can't help feeling I am not done here. My body is repairing and healing itself, but where is my baby? This isn't how it is supposed to work. So while I know I am done, and there is nothing I have left to do, I still haven't gotten there yet.  Verses and quotes and cliches do not help me right now. Justin and I had some concern Saturday, but having not seen the doctor yet and not feeling a need to go to the er, I took my mother's advice and laid with my feet up all weekend. Justin handled it all- even seeing to all of the little surprises we had planned for our sweet boy's birthday Sunday. In spite of the red flags that had been raised Saturday, Sunday was different. We had actually started to believe everything was fine. All signs of concern were gone. Then, at 7:00 Sunday night, they came back. Things got worse. Justin was adamant that we would go to the doctor the next morning, and even offered to try calling the office for me if he was the first one up. We secretly continued to research statistics in the hopes we were just overreacting, but inside I knew. By the time we went to bed that night, I was in a great deal of pain. I knew that that would be the night. I no longer wondered if, or maybe. I knew. Justin and I kissed goodnight. I struggled to fall asleep, and debated moving the pillows beneath my feet. It seemed my last hope to have them there. I grew angry in the silence. If this happened, I thought, I wouldn't do this again. I would wait. I would wait a year like Justin and I had originally said. I couldn't do this again. There was nothing good in this. I laid there talking to God. I know it is foolish- beyond foolish- to be mad at Him, but I was. I was hurt. I knew He would turn our lives around, He would use this for His purpose for us. I knew He loves me, and that He would never want me to hurt. I knew He is a merciful Father and that He does not take life lightly. I knew if I lost our baby, they would be safely with Him. I knew I would see them again, and I knew God would not leave me. But all of that said, in that moment, I was fighting and begging and even threatening (not to listen, not to try again soon) in the foolish hope that He wouldn't let it happen. I knew I was being disobedient. I knew I was wrong. I knew I would listen again. We would try again. Next time He told me to leap, I would. I wanted to think I could help, I could stop this from happening though. Again and again, I heard my Father's voice though. Like a fighting whisper to every argument I had, He reminded me-  "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." - Jeremiah 29:11 I fought. I said no. I argued that I knew that, but this hurt. This would hurt me. I grew frantic, being fully aware of each passing minute and what I grew closer to. Again, He reminded me of another verse- one of my favorites.  "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, with prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard you hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." It is easy to learn a verse, to read it, to like it, to find comfort in it on any given day. It is also amazing and humbling how when you are pleading and pulling so close to Him, how He will use the verses you once framed on an index card to speak to you. I wasn't remembering word for word. I typed word for word to validate the truth. The reality of it was that He was simply talking to me. In all of my fighting and all of my pleading, He met me with a loving calm. I wanted to fight, to think I could win, but He knew already. He knew what I felt, even though I was trying to convince myself He couldn't. Somehow this time, He must not have known. *Typing this now, I find some comfort. Where He could have, and by our standards should have, met me with anger, He met me with arms open. He loved me to the point not to remind me of my size or helplessness, but of His love and His power.*  Finally, the pain was too bad. I realized no matter what I did, if it was going to happen, there was nothing I could do. There was nothing I could do. I curled up on my side, and closed my eyes. I didn't go to sleep though. I stopped fighting and I prayed. I said my goodbyes and I made my requests. I asked one last time if we didn't have to do this, then to please not let it happen. I prayed until there was no more to say. As hard as that night was, I see now how God took over for me. He didn't ask me to do anything more than was necessary. He didn't ask me to decide, to think, or to feel anything more.  By the time I got up from that sleepless night, I just wanted an answer. I knew, but I needed to KNOW. I needed to know if I should grieve or was there still hope. Had I just endured a hard night, and perhaps overreacted? In spite of our immediate efforts to see the doctor that day, her office and her nurses were so busy that we didn't hear back from anyone until nearly 5:00. I couldn't spend the day dreading and worrying- neither of us could, so we did the only thing we could think of. We both found articles online about what we were going through, and we saw what we already knew. Our worst fear could have happened, but there was actually just as much chance that everything was fine with our baby. It seemed foolish to grieve when we didn't know for certain. I pushed the night before behind me, and prayed that if I had been wrong in suspecting the worse that God forgive me. When I finally got in touch with the nurse, I was so excited that I didn't care at first how she offered no advice and no encouragement. I was simply happy to hear her offer me an appointment for first thing the next morning. It wasn't until I hung up the phone and looked at Justin that I realized how scared I really was. Hearing back had been the "job" that day, the task keeping us from thinking too much on what likely had happened. Having finally gotten the appointment, Justin and I just looked at each other with these mutual smiles. Neither of us admitted right then what we already knew. We were still trying to hope.  My doctor is truly a gift. I cannot imagine that anyone else could have confirmed the news for us with such empathy, as well as provided us with such hope in the end. Justin stood beside me as I looked up at the ultrasound screen. I had already seen her face; noted what she had halfway said, but then stopped herself from saying as she continued to look. Still, I searched that fuzzy screen for that little circle I remembered. It was the only thing that I could notice on my own. It was all I knew to look for. There was one, and for one brief second I was hopeful. She must have known what I was thinking; caught a look on my face, because she immediately pointed it out and explained it was the empty sack of where our baby had been. It is strange how emotions can join together in the same instance. On the one hand, there was relief that I hadn't misread my pregnancy tests or imagined any of it (because, yes, this had crossed my mind). On the other hand, there was comfort in seeing something, somewhere, my baby had been. My baby had been right there, inside of me. Then there was the sadness because my baby wasn't there. It was empty. I was empty. The nurse left immediately after the ultrasound- a fact I only know because I remember seeing her as I laid down, but never did I see her in the conversation that followed. My eyes were glued to our doctor as she spoke to us. I almost felt bad for making her give us the news that, at this point, I could acknowledge I had already known. At first she tried to give me the statistics, assuring me that this was common, but I know the look on my face must have told her I hated that stupid statistic for ever putting fear into my pregnancies in the first place. She quickly acknowledged it doesn't change how personal this felt to me. She left no room for questions. Anything I could have thought to ask by now or in the days to follow, she answered over the next several minutes. Honestly, I still don't know how she did it, but she somehow managed to give us hope going forward. She made it okay to grieve. She made it okay to try again- later or as soon as possible. She made it okay to come back to her office, to be happy again, to try again, to be hopeful. She made it okay to know this baby, and to know the one to follow. She even made it okay to find comfort and joy as often as possible in the precious boy that stood in the room with us. This is the second time that I have thanked God for putting this doctor into our lives. As I said at the beginning of this, I don't know how to do this. I have caught myself smiling at our precious boy one second and crying the next. Sometimes the pain is what starts it. Sometimes it is just too strong a thought. I don't need to hear the world's responses to judge my grief. I know that I was just 5 weeks. I know that we had only known this baby for 1 week. I know that we never saw them or heard their heartbeat, and I know for some people that should somehow make this easier. I know that some women know and feel so much more than I did. I know. I also know our story- Justin, myself, Reagan, and this baby.  *For 1 week, I slept in in the mornings and attempted naps (usually only within the last 10 minutes of Reagan's naps) because I was so tired from this pregnancy. *I hated sweet food in that time. In fact, most food left me feeling icky- not nauseated, but icky. The only thing sweet that I could eat without feeling sick were the leftover fruit chew candies from Reagan's birthday party. I joked with Justin that I thought it might be a girl because the baby seemed to be teasing me more than Reagan ever had. I would literally take the longest time picking out food because nothing sounded good. It was almost as if I would catch myself  thinking "What about goldfish crackers?". When I was pregnant with Reagan thoughts like that were immediately met with a yay or nay, but with this baby I always felt like the response was more "Sure, Mommy, go ahead. Try it out and I'll tell you what I think.". Again, nearly everything left me feeling not so great and I would be on the hunt for something to fix it. For all that was up in the air when it came to meals, I could not get enough meat though, or those pretzel goldfish. Justin teased me about how many breakfast sausages I had gone through in just a few days. I was so excited to find some Quaker Oats cranberry and almond oatmeal last Thursday when we went grocery shopping. It had sounded so good that I had had to make some the minute we got home. It was so bland, but perfect for the baby and me. Oh, and peaches! Peaches and bananas were also on the good list. I had been so happy, so relieved, to make up some of my new oatmeal and dive into our breakfast sausages Friday morning and it immediately ease my icky feeling stomach. I felt like I had made a break through- like this baby and I had come to some small understanding.  *We had told Reagan about the baby, and it was not uncommon for him to bring up the baby at random all on his own. He typically mentioned what toys of his the baby could play with (which was just about everything he owned, even his most prized toys).  *I had already made up a list of what we needed to move around in order to make room for this baby, and Justin had even helped me make up a list of baby items we actually wanted to update or purchase for life with this baby.  *We had already started conversations and daydreams about what our two babies would look like together, how they would play together, how they would greet Justin at the door each day together.  *We took 5 pregnancy tests with this baby. The 1st, I took one week before I was even late. It was negative, and while I took the news well, I couldn't quite shake the feeling it was wrong. The 2nd, I took on the night of what should have been when I started. It was the faintest line, but it was there all the same. I was so mad at the thought of not celebrating all of our babies to the fullest the second we knew, that I took Reagan out the next morning and purchased a digital test just so it could be confirmed under no uncertain terms. It came back negative, which I read is normal if your HCG levels aren't high enough to be detected yet. Apparently the digital tests require higher levels, so I didn't let it bother me and stuck to my gut. Tuesday I took a 3rd test, this time the line was darker. I was pregnant. I actually went out to tell my family- who already seemed to have had suspicions of their own. Thursday, I took my final pregnancy test. It was truly just so no one could question in the least if we were. It was the last digital test I had, and I knew if it was positive then my hormone levels were going up. It came back positive.  *I had no dreams or feelings (other than with the food situation) to tell me if we were having a boy or a girl. Since Sunday night though, I cannot shake the feeling that our baby was a girl. We only had one month together, and only one week of celebrating it. Reagan hasn't mentioned the baby since it happened (which I am counting as a blessing at the moment). Reagan only knows that Mommy is hurting. He doesn't know anything else. He has no idea how much he is helping his mommy and daddy just by going about his business as he does. Still, Justin and I are struggling. Justin is trying to look forward, trying to remind me on occasion of what we hope to follow. At the same time, he is grieving with me. He loved our baby, too. He had already found a place for them in his life and in his heart. This hasn't been easy on either of us. He has been careful around me, trying to make it as easy as possible. Tuesday, when we came home from the doctor's office, he made us up a lunch of sausage and eggs, knowing breakfast foods are my favorite and hoping it would help. He isn't pushing me to get over this or to rush through it. We are just talking about it, even if a minute before we were discussing what Reagan did today or what we are having for dinner. We don't know how to do this or what will help us. We don't know when this will be as okay as it will ever be, so we aren't making rules. We are just being honest with each other, even as raw as all of this is.  We know no one knows what to say. We would never have known what to say until this week. We know it is hard for people to understand this. We know some people mean well, but they don't get it. We understand. We will never forget this process and what we are feeling now.  My family said it best just by saying they were so sorry and then giving us space. I have regretted telling them about the baby only because I know that this means they are hurting, too. At the same time, I am grateful they knew. I am grateful that our baby was celebrated and loved by the people who would have loved them most, even if only for a few days. I am grateful that my family appreciates life no matter at what stage it is in during creation, and that they recognize how unique and how precious our baby is to us. My family has also been here before. My parents know how this feels, and they know nothing can be said or done to fix what we are feeling. Surprisingly, one other person we know simply told Justin that there was nothing that could be said. That acknowledgement in itself was relief to the pain we are feeling. What we are feeling can't be cured with gifts or actions. It can't be healed with a band-aid. There is nothing that can take the place of who we have just lost. Even being told something as simple as "Well, y'all still have a lot to be grateful for." brought pain unintentionally. It literally sent me into a spiraling conversation with Justin as I pointed out the truth of the matter. This baby wasn't the result of greed. They weren't an addition to the bookshelves, or that collectible peace we found on sale, but had to back out of because of circumstance. This baby was another person we were thankful for. We were grateful for them- the promise they were adding to our lives, the future we would have with them, all of the love we would have to give them. This baby was specifically chosen and created to be a part of our family- even for a short time. This baby was not a replacement or an upgrade from Reagan, and for as much as our sweet boy is helping us to find joy even in all of this, he is not a replacement for his brother or sister. We are having to learn to be grateful for someone we loved but cannot meet in this lifetime, and we don't know how to do that overnight. We just don't know. Yes, as I said in the beginning, I am still feeling angry. I am not angry at God, but I am angry at the circumstances. I am angry I am in this position and that I know this loss. Justin asked if it would have helped me had I not known, but truthfully I am grateful.  I wouldn't want any of our babies to come and go without me knowing. I am trying to take comfort in what I do know, but I know it is going to take time. Another mother who had been in the same situation pointed out in her blog post a truth that I had forgotten in all of this. We do not suffer alone. God tells us He hurts when we hurt. He knows my pain and is with me in this. Knowing not only my baby is safe with our Father, but knowing He still feels my pain for who I have lost actually does make this just a little bit easier.  At the beginning, I wasn't going to say anything. I was just going to keep this between us. This is personal. I know there will be another baby. I know that Reagan is not our last. I know that this baby, somehow, has helped us make room in our family for their younger brother or sister. They have helped our family in a way no one else could have. God didn't use their precious life for just one week. He has made certain their purpose will always be with our family. I share about our life with Reagan almost on a daily basis because he is ours, and he is loved, and we are blessed to know him and to have him in our lives. To not share about this baby, felt like we would be ignoring they were here for a time. Even as this gets easier, and I am praying it will get easier, we won't ever forget this baby. This baby was ours, and we will always love them. 

Adventures in the Toddler Bed (Reagan Edition)

After a year of hitting milestones left and right, I feel like the last few months have just been a whirlwind of new skills for this family. Something I have greatly enjoyed following Reagan's 1st birthday is that I no longer feel tied to a milestone calendar. I breathe a little easier and just follow his lead; granted this means never knowing when or where he is going to take us. Oftentimes, I am so wrapped up in the moment, I don't even notice how big a deal some things are or how quickly he is growing up. This current step has hit me hard though- moving up to a toddler bed. 

*Note* His favorite bear is only ever allowed to sleep in his bed during naptime when I can watch him better.

First, let me just note that the decision to purchase a toddler bed was not an easy one. While I think they are precious, I honestly wasn't sold on the idea of moving forward in that direction. Seeing as we plan to update Reagan's room from nursery to big boy room at the start of next year, Justin and I had anticipated buying his twin bed at that point. Going from crib to bed when he is a bit older (closer to 2 1/2 years old) was our hope. True to form however, our son couldn't care less for our plans. Three weeks ago, after taking him from his crib and tidying the toys from his floor, I turned around to see my son lunging himself back into his crib. It seems he thought his toy chest the perfect tool and his strength just enough to push himself back over the end of the bed. As I left the room to heat up his lunch, I wondered how long it would take him to consider reversing his new skill to escape his crib. The answer- 2 minutes. It took my son all of 2 minutes to desert his toys and try his hand at climbing out. The unfortunate part of course, is that the toy chest and the floor are not as soft and inviting of a landing for toddler missteps. While I would like to say his rough landing and the tears he shed were a lesson learned, I know him better than that. One failed attempt does not deter future attempts. It simply means he made a small miscalculation somewhere. He will always try again, and again, and again...

This is the one we chose. You can find it here on Amazon.

While moving the toy chest did occur to me, Reagan is a tad too persistent for me. Now that he knew he could crawl out, I knew he would just make-do with or without it. Although he is tall for his age, Justin and I didn't feel comfortable moving him to a twin bed just yet. Since we still have the rest of the year to consider, and a toddler bed uses a crib mattress that we shouldn't need for some time yet, we opted to purchase a toddler bed for Little Bit. I was also able to order ours from Amazon in a color that both matches his nursery and his future big boy room. With the order placed, there were only two things left to do- prepare and pray.  Is the room ready? We had already baby-proofed the nursery before Reagan was born, but I did take a second look over the room. I moved a memory box from a low shelf to a safer place in his closet. I double checked all outlets were covered. The cords to all the blinds are still high enough that he cannot reach them, so there was nothing to be done there.  Who are we dealing with? In preparing, Justin and I talked a lot about who our little boy is as a person. Reagan is very independent. He likes to do what we do, and often the way we do it. He also likes routine and stability. Changes in the past haven't been met with too many tears (at least not for too long).  What's the worst that could happen? While Little Bit may be independent and relatively reasonable, he is also a toddler and therefore a person. With a newfound bit of freedom, comes the obvious realization that he may just take advantage of it. We confronted the thought that he may take the ease of getting in and out of his new bed too far and attempt 100 trips out of the bed every 5 minutes. We knew that with the ability to come and go as he pleased, he may attempt to leave his room rather than go to sleep. We knew our late mornings may be coming to an end. We knew we might be receiving some rude awakenings throughout the night either by him standing by our side of the bed staring or exploring in another room. We knew transitioning him from his crib to his toddler was not the only thing we were addressing here. We even knew that there was a slight chance that his claim to his baby bed may be stronger than we realized, and he might reject the toddler bed all together.  How committed are we?  While we were excited to take this new step towards "big boyhood" with our sweet boy, we knew it would be no less a test for Justin and I as his parents. It wasn't just going to be about getting him to accept his new bed by sleeping in it. This would come with the usual tests of our resolve. Would we cave to a week (or perhaps weeks) of poor sleep? Would we let him take water to bed when he never has before? Would we continue closing his door, or would we begin leaving the door open. Leaving the door open allowed us freedom to move about while he slept, and also ensured he would not be leaving his room throughout the night. That said, it also provided him a great deal of privacy; privacy which he might realize could be used to his advantage (aka trouble). Opening his door, meant attempting to be a little more stealth while he sleeps. It meant providing him the ease to move not only in and out of his bed at any given hour, but in and out of rooms. It meant likely sending him to bed repeatedly, and risking a greater mess if he ever decided on a midnight exploration. That said, opening his door meant making our presence more known. It meant the chances of hearing him and seeing him and keeping an eye on his whereabouts might be slightly easier and less dependent on the baby monitor (which only catches so much). At some point, the freedom to come and go from his room would need to be addressed. The question was, was this the right time.  Justin and I realized we had to be fully committed. Like with everything else, we were going to have to take the bad with the good. We had to acknowledge that we could not foresee every scenario, but could only commit to doing what was necessary (whatever the heck that may be). We wanted this big step to be exciting for him and for him to enjoy this new bit of freedom. We also wanted him to understand that the rules had not changed and Mommy and Daddy were still in charge.  While I had big hopes that we would make the switch during the weekend so Justin could loose sleep with me, I remembered a trick from last year. When we began transitioning him from cosleeping in our bed to sleeping in his crib, I decided to introduce him to his crib during naptimes. It seemed kinder to me to let him adjust to sleeping during the daytime for a shorter amount of time in his new space, rather than going all in at night. He complained of course, but he adjusted and it was easier on me to help him adjust during the daytime. Obviously, I wasn't going to have the same timeline as I had before, but he is older now so I hoped I wouldn't need it. I talked the toddler bed up as much as possible. In the four days it took to arrive, Reagan was checking the mail every day with me, and looking at his bed on my computer screen every now and then. Justin put it together the night that it came in, so it was up and waiting in our living room the next morning. I had honestly forgotten until I heard Reagan yell "Bed! My bed!" when he saw it the next day.  After breakfast, I had him help me take apart his crib and move the pieces into the office. Justin and I decided we would be leaving his bedroom door open (might as well rip the bandaid off and get him used to the fact that leaving his room is not an option). That said, we settled on closing the door only so much, leaving it open just enough that we can check in, but not so much that he has every distraction from the rest of the house. With our bathroom right beside his bedroom though, it didn't seem smart to leave his bed in the same spot where it would have full view of the light turning on and off throughout the days and nights. With a little maneuvering, I found a new spot for his new bed. Reagan was ecstatic from what I could tell. He wanted to sit in it immediately, and was more than happy to feel it with his bo-bo's (his stuffed animals). Our usual routine is lunch, diaper change, and nap. I kept the routine the same. 

As with every slumber party we ever went to, it was all fun and games until the lights went out. Still, Reagan did so well. He did leave the room a few times. I wasn't angry or frustrated. I just cheerfully walked him back to his bed, tucked him in, and reiterated what we were doing again. Let's go back to bed. It's time to take your nap. Night, Night. This was his first time, so I didn't want him to be discouraged with the idea that he could do this "wrong" or that the "big boy" bed was harder than his crib. After opening his curtains a bit more, I left the room and he settled in. Two hours later, he woke up happy from his nap. He took his time getting up, walked quietly out of his room, and peeked his head into the living room to tell me hi. I was so proud! That night, we followed the same routine. He did get up about 20 times to tell us hi, check in on us, make sure we were still doing good. You know... what babies do. Each time, Justin and I stayed cheerful and walked him back to bed. Finally, he decided life after he goes to bed didn't seem to be the party he imagined, and stayed in bed. (We saved our usual bowls of cereal for after he went to sleep. ;)) He did wake up in the middle of the night. I could hear him walk into our room, and fully anticipated for him to walk to my side. Funnily enough, he went to Justin. I had no idea until Justin turned to me fully awake and told me that our son was staring at him. I got up and walked to the other side of the bed. Reagan's bottom lip poked out, but I kept smiling and he took my hand knowingly to follow me. I checked his diaper to be sure there hadn't been a mishap to wake him up, and when all was clear I quietly put him back to bed. He even reminded me to pull the door to behind me. I could hear him fighting to get comfortable and hitting his head against the headboard in the process, so I did opt to sneak back in and loan him one of our thinner decorative pillows. (We had a toddler pillow ordered, but it was a day late.) He went straight to sleep, and didn't wake up until Justin's alarm went off the next day. 

"Seriously, Mommy, what do I do again?"

We are on our 2nd week of life in his toddler bed and not much has changed. He does still attempt to get up initially. While the first few days I was sugary-sweet about this, we agreed by the third day he knew full well that he was safe in his new bed and therefore he needed to understand this was not okay. Thanks to our handy dandy baby monitor, I can usually catch him trying to leave the bed before those chunky little feet touch the actual floor. So far I have only had to threaten to shut his door once- a punishment he has made clear is too much for him to dare. We do still walk him back to bed, but only twice. After that, we have learned it is all a power play for him and he just wants to see if he can make us follow. After that second hand-held return, it becomes firm, clear directions to get back in the bed. So far, he has not ventured past his room. He doesn't like the dark, so I am assuming the pitch black rooms beyond his and ours are nothing he cares to venture into. Every time he wakes up- whether it be from his nap or his bedtime, he quietly walks to his door, peeks out into the hall, and looks for us. There is always an uneasy "Hi?" to see if he can get up yet or not. He did initially get up with Justin's alarm, but on the second day Justin told him to go back to bed. He has slept through every alarm since so far. He also woke up too early this past Sunday, but without even seeing me, my whispered instruction to go back to bed sent him quietly walking back out of our room and into his bed for another hour of sleep.  If you follow my Instagram feed or my Snapchat, you know that there have definitely been some humorous moments as well. Usually Justin's office is the one room we keep closed, but this weekend it was open. At some point, he did sneak across the hall and swipe a magazine during naptime. At least, we are assuming. It may have  already been in his room and I just missed it somewhere. Also, because I do not keep an eye on the camera the entire time, he has managed to sneak to his toy basket a few nights and grab his flashlight to take back to bed. Funniest thing EVER! He scared himself with it, and likely thought he was busted the first time he turned it on. With this fear, he actually leaned forward to cover it up the first night.  Justin and I have taken this big step one day at a time. We know at any second he could likely turn the tables on us and throw us a curveball. There is no going back though, so we have to make this work as far as we are concerned. The longer this goes on, the more he proves what we already know- he is ready for this and he can handle this responsibility...with our guidance. We could watch the camera every 10 seconds and we could be a tad more detail-oriented (ex. no flashlights in bed and no sneaking toys to bed). At the end of the day though, the things he takes to bed do not interfere with his sleep. He still knows he has to go to bed and stay in bed until Mommy and Daddy say. If that means playing with a flashlight for 5 minutes, or reading a book for 30 minutes, or rearranging his stuffed animals for 20 minutes, we'll take it. Whether he means to or not, he is settling down for the night and eventually going to sleep.  For now, our routine is a bit changed at night. Now, he helps settle his animals into bed. I adjust the covers while Justin changes his diaper. He crawls into bed and waits eagerly for his bible story. I sit on one side of the bed and Justin the other. We read him a short bible story, hand him his book for the night, say prayers, give him kisses, and leave the room. While we only meant to switch beds, we have actually found new time together as a family as well as begun a bedtime tradition I have been praying for for a long time.  To anyone about to venture into toddler beds or big kid beds, I would just say this: Remember that this is your baby. They need your help to tell them how to do this right, and your encouragement to teach them that they are capable of handling this very big step. Be as prepared as you can be. Be excited. Be patient. Also, don't worry when you realize you still have to be firm. It is all part of teaching them, and they (and you) will be so much happier when they take this big step and run with it like the amazing little person they are. 

Trying for a Season of Joy

I have long since said that I hate spring/summer. I include the two together because every spring I have ever known has been a unified season (aka summer). Just last week, my sister got onto me and began describing spring as one of the most welcoming and endearing of seasons. I am not quite sure where she has known such a spring, as I have only ever known spring as muggy, HOT, and full of storms. Funnily enough though, she seems to have foreseen something as for the last 2 weeks we actually have had some of the most beautiful weather (almost fall like). Because this is not the usual experience however, and because I do not want to waste another season full of excuses for why I lack adventure and enthusiasm, I have decided to proactively find the joy in absolutely every season this year. Hear that, Spring? I am talking to you.

1.My first tool in this venture is this beautiful cookbook that my parents gifted me for my last birthday. Isn't it gorgeous?!?! The recipes are ever so adventurous, while also being light and equally beautiful. One complaint I always have during our hot weather is that my mind goes blank on what to cook. Who wants to suffer the summer heat indoors or out, and then have to come in and cook a hot meal. Yuck! On the other hand, if I am going to put forth extra effort with a new meal, if it looks this pretty and sounds this delicious, it may just be completely worth. (New recipes)

Much prettier in person. Click picture for link!

2. If I am going to experiment with new meals, well, I just may need a new spring/summer table cloth. Maybe some fancier meals at the dinner table will encourage me on the hottest of days to keep up my efforts in an already hot kitchen. Pioneer Woman seems to have been one step ahead of me here. I located this beauty just the other day during my outing with Little Bit. 

3. Enjoy the outdoors more. Hot is hot and in Louisiana there is nowhere that is not. I am going to have to learn to deal. Our home is too nice, and our yard needs too much love to simply stay in the a/c for half the year. Plus, Little Bit thrives outdoors and he would likely live outside if we provided that option. Though that is not about to happen, we really do want to make our yard more enjoyable. One child in the house makes our house seem smaller. The thought of adding more in the future alerts me to the fact that we need a bigger play area for our family. What better time to start putting all of our plans into action than now. I need to post more pictures, but if you have been watching my Instagram feed then you have already seen some of the fun changes we have been making.

4. Find better clothes for the heat. Y'all, I LOVE boots, jeans, bulky sweaters, leggings, and long sleeved button-ups. Oh, and let's not forget a cute coat. None of these are acceptable for spring and summer however. I recently went through my clothes and began clearing the collection. I have made so many efforts to find my "style" over the years and my hot weather wardrobe is just one mad mess. I cleaned out the bulk though and am trying to embrace my new style. Funnily enough, so far I do not resent my "mommy" clothes. I feel like I have a better mental checklist that potential clothing items have to meet. It weeds out a lot of bad buys (or has so far at least). I am pretty conservative when it comes to my clothing. I won't even venture into patterns half of the time. That said, a little bit of color and patterns here and there is just too much to resist these days. If I have to be in the sweltering heat, I want to love my clothes.

5. After such a crazy season, I could so easily fall into a season of rest. Submitting to the heat and hiding from the sunshine are character traits that I have practiced heavily for the majority of my life. Like I said, it is often too hot for me to dream up any real adventure or creativity in any aspect of my life. That isn't fair though- not to me, and not to Justin and Little Bit. When I don't get to do XYZ, I get cranky. When I get cranky, it falls to those around me to be more cheerful or join in the misery. Who wants that?!?!? No, no, that won't do anymore. While I am all over decorating our home, there is so much more I want to try. As a teenager, I dreamed of the day that I would be able to host beautiful dinners, bake fresh breads, and mix new drinks (ex. flavored teas, fresh lemonade, etc.). I am here though. I am right where I need to be to try all of these new things. If I want to venture into gardening, we have the yard and the time to try our hand at it. If I want to grow herbs and try to incorporate them into our meals, I need to do it. If I want to diy cleaners and better manage our home's finances, I can actually do that. No excuses. No more waiting. There is nothing stopping us. Now is the time to venture out and try all of these things. I have every opportunity. Spring might just be the best season to start trying my hand at these new skills that will benefit my home and my family. 

Small indoor project we finished this weekend!

While in some ways all of these plans can make me sound very busy, I really want be. I want to appreciate the season I am in to the very fullest. I don't want to lose anymore time & become so lost in future plans (fall, birthday party, big boy room, etc.) that I miss out on the opportunities I have everyday. I want to give Reagan the fun memories that I had when I was little, along with some new memories I come up with all on my own. I want to enjoy rainy days, and soak up sunshine at home. I want to take it up a notch in the kitchen, and find more reason to smile. I want to be grateful and find the joy God is giving me in the every day- especially when it isn't easy. 

Look how cute!!!

Anyone else finding warmer weather is a hindrance? Anyone have any fun plans or advice?