Currently.

Dreaming of: A table full of family. I'm picturing loud, messy meals around our dinner table, children fighting and laughing, Ray and I overwhelmed and exhausted, but smiling at each other over the family we've created. This is my dream.

We had a friend over for dinner last night with his three kids. We made spaghetti and bought a loaf of garlic bread. By the time dinner was over, the bread was gone and that made me so happy. As I took the bread dish from the table I giggled and said to Ray, "Isn't this dreamy?! A whole loaf of bread eaten. One day we'll have that." God willing.

^^Emmett loved it too. :)

Thankful for: Comments from readers. Just when i was beginning to doubt my love for this space, kind comments started pouring in from readers old and new. Uplifting, reassuring comments from friends-in-the-making that really made me feel good about opening my life up on this blog. So thank you!

Watching: Everything on HBO Go. Game of Thrones is back! And Veep! That show is so hilarious. There's also a new show called Silicon Valley that hooked us with the first episode. I found myself wanting to watch more during the week, so I'm hoping that lasts.

Last night I put Emmett to bed and came into the living room where my husband was perched on the couch, remote in hand with an excited smile on his face. "Ready to watch some awesome tv?!" he said, and it was hard to let him down, but it was nearly 8 and I was tired. So to bed I went, leaving him less-than-broken-hearted with his other favorite show, Vikings. Have any of you seen that yet? Ray started it without me so I haven't watched it, but he wants me to catch up with him.

Pondering: My husband told me the other day that I'm dramatic (read:crazy) 25% of the month (read:period.) I was just glad to hear he thinks I'm normal the other 75% of the time. The older I get, the more I realize that my hormones control me. Okay, control is a strong word. They influence my life more than ever before. I feel the ups and downs throughout the month in a big way. Since having Emmett, but even more since Oliver. I need to figure out how to get a handle on that. Or maybe it's just a mother's lot?

Making up for: I sent Emmett to pre-school this morning in dirty shorts. I boycotted housework this weekend (Do you ever do that? Please tell me you do...), so I made myself clean the kitchen before I could have my coffee this morning. Next I plan to sweep and vacuum, do all the laundry, and pick up the back yard. And work, because I am superwoman. (NOT.)

I hope you had a lovely weekend! As always, I'm linking up with the lovely ladies at A Mama Collective to bring you this week's Currently. I hope you'll join us!

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If you are interested in co-hosting, please email Jenna at info(at)amamacollective(dot)com to get on the list!

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An InLinkz Link-up

A Heck of a Week

Well, I lost Emmett on Wednesday. Cue intense mortification.

He is fine, thank goodness. Everything is fine, except for my heart rate and my pride. We have a gate in our side yard that is always, always locked. But a friend came to visit that morning, and she came in the gate to meet us in the back yard. I didn't think to check and make sure she'd closed it on her way out. BIG mistake.

So after Emmett's nap we headed outside to play in the back yard. I went to grab laundry out of the dryer (our laundry room is outside, accessed from our side yard,) and brought it inside to fold. After a couple of minutes I went to check on Emmett and couldn't find him. I heard faint crying, so I ran all over searching the garage, the back yard, all of the rooms in the house, and couldn't find him. Near panicked by now, I headed for the side yard to check the laundry room and found the gate to the front yard wide open. I flew through that gate faster than I think I've ever moved in my life to see a big blue truck parked halfway into my front yard. I found Emmett crying in the arms of a strange man, who was on the phone with the police.

My first thought was that Emmett had wandered into the street, chasing Bagel, and was hit by the truck. Thank God, he wasn't hurt. The man was driving by and saw Emmett following Bagel down the sidewalk with no adult in sight and he stopped. Thank God. He couldn't figure out which house Emmett belonged to, so he called the police. When I ran out, he told the dispatcher that he'd found the mother and everyone was fine, gave me a tiny little lecture, and took off.

I've never hugged Emmett so hard in my life. I called Ray and begged him to come home. I knew the police were coming and I couldn't fathom facing them on my own. I was mortified. And terrified, and a million other things all at once. But most of all I was relieved that nothing terrible had happened. Thank God.

I am so grateful to that man who stopped to pick up Emmett and keep him from coming to harm in the street. I'm thankful to him for not yelling at me or lecturing me too hard or making me feel worse than I already did. He was kind and gentle with both of us and I'm sure he must have been an angel.

Ray came home and calmed me down, and left again after 20 minutes or so. The police hadn't come, so I thought we were in the clear. They finally showed up after about 45 minutes (isn't that insane?! You'd think a missing child would warrant a fast response!) and said they just stopped by to make sure everyone was okay. They were menacing and scary but kind. Thank God.

I've heard countless stories in the last couple of days from other moms who've been through similar nightmares, and even though they don't make me feel better or less foolish, they do help. I learned a major lesson about keeping an eye on Emmett and checking all exits before letting him outside, and I'm not sure I'll ever forget the endless heart attacks I felt at the thought of him being hurt or lost, even for a few moments.

Needless to say, I feel like an idiot/bad mom/total disaster. I had a hard time not beating myself up all night long. Then, after a night of tossing and turning, I woke up to Ray realizing I'd left the door to the refrigerator open over night and all the food had gone bad. Fail.

Thank God each day is new and fresh. Rather than holding on to that feeling of defeat and self doubt, I decided that the day could only get better, and I was going to do better. As a mom, wife, refrigerator closer, and everything else.

Please tell me you've had an experience like this. Just knowing other mamas- amazing mamas who I admire and respect- have also been through something like this makes me feel better. So please, tell me your stories!

And have a great weekend!

Love in Miscarriage

To kick off our month-long Love in Motherhood series, I want to share a time when I really struggled in motherhood, and how God weaved love into my story. Brace yourself, this is going to be a long one.

This summer was a really hard one for us. Every summer is hard for me because we live in Arizona and I'm not a fan of extreme heat (or cold, so I guess I need to live in... Hawaii?), but this one was particularly brutal. I was working full-time in a very, very busy office, struggling to survive the long days and feeling incredibly guilty about leaving my little at home so much. If only I'd known what was coming.

Eating his birthday cake. :)

Emmett turned one in July. Ray and I decided when he was about nine months old that we were open to getting pregnant again, and after what seemed like months, we saw that glorious second line on a pregnancy test. It was so faint I almost missed it, but it was there, and our hearts soared. I was scared, and worried because I know a lot of mamas who miscarried with their second pregnancies, but after a few days I became really excited and started to fall in love with the tiny baby growing inside me.

After about a week of bliss, I noticed a tiny brown tinge on the toilet paper one night in the bathroom. At first I didn't think much of it, but a fear started growing and I called my doctor first thing the next morning. The sweet nurse was reassuring, but they asked me to come in right away for some tests. They drew blood, and we did an ultrasound to check on the baby's age and development. It was too early to see a heartbeat, but the doctor was hopeful and sent us home feeling confident that everything would be okay.

The bleeding didn't stop. It was very light, and would slow down for hours at a time, but each time it came back I was hit with an incredible fear all over again. I called the doctor again the next day, and then the next, and they told me to come back in. I was sure I was miscarrying, so I called my boss and told him I needed some time. Thank God, my boss is a father and a husband and he was very kind. I took a few days off, and went in for blood work nearly every day. The doctor put me on progesterone because my levels were low, but my hCG continued to rise, so we continued to hold out hope.

Here's a passage from a post I wrote in early September, that first week:

The next day, Thursday, I woke up to more spotting. I called the doc and they told me to come in for another blood test. Ray was already at work so I went on my own. When I got there I sat down to have my blood drawn. My friend the PA, who happens to be about 36 weeks pregnant, knew that I was there, so she came out to see how I was doing. She was kind and gentle and I was so afraid. I broke down in that chair and she squatted down next to me, big belly and all, and rubbed my back while I cried. She told me that I would be okay, and that they were all praying for me. I looked up to see the nurses and the girls at the front desk watching me and I knew that they were praying for me then. I could see that they felt my pain and that they really, truly cared, and I felt reassured. We decided to order my labs to come back that afternoon. That way if the baby had stopped growing, I wouldn't have to go through the ultrasound the next day. As I left, the sweet nurse held my hand and told me not to be afraid, but to have faith. It felt like a lightbulb went off when she said that. "Oh yeah," I thought, "I'm supposed to have faith." I wasn't supposed to be afraid, I was supposed to believe that God had a plan for me, and for my baby, and I needed to have faith that He would take care of us, no matter what happened.

Already, God was working love into my story.

After about a week, there had been no change. I had a second ultrasound, and although we still didn't see a heartbeat, we knew from my NFP charting that I was only just five weeks along, and we saw growth since the first ultrasound a week earlier. I flew home with Emmett for a long weekend at the beach with my family, and told them about the baby. I was afraid, but peaceful. I knew God would take care of us, and I had hope. I was able to rest in my family, to relax, and to pray almost constantly. It was such a blessing to be away from my incredibly stressful job for a few days.

All of my labs continued to be positive, and I was able to stop taking the progesterone. My doctor was still confident, but the bleeding was only getting heavier, so we knew something was wrong. My thyroid was enlarged, so I went in for an ultrasound of my thyroid. I was still afraid, but peaceful.

When I returned to work, my boss called me into a meeting to tell me they were cutting my hours from 40 to 20, effective immediately (read the full story here.) It was a huge blow and we were stressed, but we jumped into action and came up with a plan. My boss told me my accounts were complaining that I hadn't been around during some of the busiest months of the year, but then told me I could take more time off if I needed to. It was all very strange, and felt like being kicked while we were way, way down, but almost immediately I saw it for what it really was: a blessing.

Tuesday, September 10 (my dad's birthday), we got some not-so-good news from the doctor. My last round of blood work showed that my hCG levels had slowed, and the doctor told me she suspected I was having a molar pregnancy (see the full story here.) Wow. What a terrible, horrible, bizarre turn of events. I was numb, and so afraid. I wrote this post, trying to pull myself out of the black hole I was falling in to.

Looking back on that post, I see the love I was feeling for my family. For Ray, Lucia, and my dad specifically, but for everyone in my life. It's amazing how loss brings you closer to your loved ones, and strengthens the ties that bind you together. Again, there was love in the midst of darkness.

We had a third ultrasound that Friday, and by then the bleeding was constant and fairly heavy. I was terrified that the pregnancy would turn out to be molar, that I never even had a baby, but I was peaceful that morning. We went in to the ultrasound dreading what we thought we'd see - a blob of tissue instead of a sweet baby. The ultrasound tech didn't say much, and we couldn't tell what we were seeing, but we knew there was no heartbeat. We were quiet and scared and numb, until we were alone again. I broke down and Ray comforted me, and then we were strong together.

When our doctor came in to see us, he said the magic words: "We see a baby." I was overcome with relief, and forgot to be scared after that. I forgot to ask questions too, but that was okay. Our doctor told us it wasn't over yet. There was no heartbeat, but we weren't totally sure when we conceived so it could just be that it was still too early for a heartbeat. He told us what to expect in case we did miscarry, and we went home feeling so much better. We still had hope.

Then that night, the contractions began. They came slowly, and then disappeared again. Same thing on Saturday, and then again on Sunday. They were getting stronger, but I was still clinging to hope. I lay on the couch with Ray Sunday afternoon, and didn't let myself think about it, even when I suddenly felt the urge to push. I was still in denial, so it hit me like a ton of bricks when it really began. I was in shock, and in so much anguish and pain and agony. My heart broke, up there all alone in the bathroom, birthing my tiny, quiet, lifeless baby on the toilet. And I wailed.

Ray sat outside the door offering silent support, just waiting for me to need him. After a while, when I could speak again, I asked for him. He was love to me then, in the way I needed it most. He was there with me in my darkest hour, and loved me. We called my doctor at home and told him what happened, and he confirmed what we knew. I had miscarried.

We spent the next few days quietly together. I didn't feel strong enough to go out, to face the world, broken as I was. I remember laughing a little bit in those days, but crying a whole lot. After so many weeks of not knowing, of waiting and seeing, we were relieved it was over. And I felt guilty about that, because all I wanted was to be pregnant again. I remember pain, but peace too.

We were able to bury our baby, who we named Oliver, a couple of weeks later. What a blessing that was for me. (You can read the full story here.) The sweet ladies at the cemetery were like angels- gentle and kind and like a light in the darkness. It was a beautiful day, and gave us so much peace.

Since those days, I've received countless emails, text messages, cards and flowers from strangers, loved ones, and friends. Women I've never met who read my story tell me it helped them, and that makes it worth it somehow. Recently a dear friend of mine lost her baby nine weeks into her pregnancy, and it hurt me so much to see her go through that pain. It still hurts. But I was able to be there for her, to understand her pain, and that makes it worth it somehow.

I told that friend the other night that losing my Oliver has changed my entire life, and every single relationship I have. It has made me stronger, made my life more beautiful, and made me love harder. It has strengthened my marriage and made me a better mother to Emmett. It has made me want to be nothing but love to those I meet in my short life. Nothing but love. I've built new friendships because of this story, and strengthened many old ones. I see the people in my life in a whole new way, and feel love everywhere I turn.

It's strange to be grateful for a miscarriage, but in many ways, I am.

Our little family at Christmas, 2013.

I love you, little Oliver boy.

Today we begin a month-long series on Love in Motherhood. We (and a few of our blogger friends) will write a post about the story of enduring a struggle of motherhood (guilt, temper, busy-ness, comparing to others, etc.), and how someone weaved LOVE into our story. A friend, a spouse, a stranger, our children, God, anything/one.

Each of the hostesses will be sharing and we want you to play along!

THE HOSTESSES:

1. Anna Kate of Home Away from Home
2. Jen of Defining My Happy
3. Jenna & Mary of A Mama Collective
4. Kristen of When At Home

HOW IT WORKS: First, head to each of the hostess’ sites to check out their posts!

Then, write your own post about Love in Motherhood. We want you to tell how love rewrote your story!

You will then link up on any ONE of the hostess’ sites. Our links will be interlinked which means that your post will be displayed on all of our sites!

We will have a new post go live every single Tuesday for four weeks to continue to spread the love in motherhood story. You are welcome to link up with us every. single. time. Or just once. You choose!

Please share on instagram with the hashtag #loveinmotherhood so we can support each other. We can't wait to see what you all have to say about the journey of love in motherhood for you.

An InLinkz Link-up

Love In Motherhood Link Up!

Today we are teaming up with a few of our favorite bloggers! We wanted to announce this idea with y'all so you can join forces with us to spread Love in Motherhood.

We are about to begin a monthlong series called "Love in Motherhood." We will write a post about our story of enduring a struggle of motherhood (guilt, temper, busy-ness, comparing to others, etc.), and how someone weaved LOVE into our story. It can be a friend, your spouse, a stranger, your children, God, anything/one. Each of the hostesses will be sharing and we want you to play along!

THE HOSTESSES:

1. Anna Kate of Home Away from Home
2. Jen of Defining My Happy
3. Jenna & Mary of A Mama Collective

HOW IT WORKS: First, head to each of the hostess’ sites beginning Tuesday, February 11th to check out their posts! Then, write your own post about Love in Motherhood. We want you to tell how love rewrote your story! You will then link up on any ONE of the hostess’ sites. Our links will be interlinked so that your post will be displayed on all of our sites!
 
We will have a new post go live every single Tuesday for four weeks to continue to spread the love in motherhood story. You are welcome to link up with us every. single. time. Or just once. You choose! Please share on instagram with the hashtag #loveinmotherhood so we can support each other. We can't wait to see what you all have to say about the journey of love in motherhood for you.

Can't wait to hear your stories!

Survival Mode

You know those days when you have a million things to do, so you whisper a quiet prayer as you lay your little on down for his nap, begging God to let him sleep for at least 2 hours? Just two hours, that's all you ask! And then after like 45 minutes, he wakes up full of energy and ready to get on with his day? Then he spends the rest of the afternoon hugging your legs and crying to be held because he's tired and fussy and needed to sleep longer? Yeah. That was my day today. I know you've all been there.

I have work to finish and presents to wrap and mail and fudge to make and cookies to decorate for the cookie exchange party I'm co-hosting tomorrow. There is laundry to be done and dishes to wash and damn it I just realized I need a candy thermometer for that fudge. Anyone have a candy thermometer I can borrow?

Emmett had a huge diaper blow out smack dab in the middle of the longest Post Office line anyone's ever seen this afternoon. I should have seen it coming. The same thing happened yesterday at Safeway while I frantically searched for Karo syrup, which by the way, is located next to the maple syrup and NOT -- I repeat -- NOT -- in the baking aisle. I finally found it, no thanks to the 15 different employees I hunted down to ask for help. "In the baking aisle," they all said. After all that I bought dark Karo syrup instead of the light Karo syrup that the recipe calls for. Wonderful. I blame the smell wafting up at me from the flailing child in my arms.

Some days you just have to survive. Some days you give up on living life to the fullest and just try to get through it all. Take me for instance. I had big plans for this afternoon. Instead I changed a poopy diaper in the backseat of my tiny car in the Post Office parking lot. Then angry-texted my husband ten-times-too-many cursing about candy thermometers and Karo syrup and why the hell is it 82 degrees outside today?! At this very moment I'm watching Emmett throw dirt at the dog in the back yard while I practice calming breathing techniques and type out this blog post. Just keeping my head down and doing what I have to do to survive. And I'm okay with that.

Moms Just Want Clothes...

I came across something interesting on Facebook today. My good friends over at A Mama Collective posed the following question on their Facebook page, and the response was incredible!:

Post by A Mama Collective.

That's 137 comments in 4 hours. I've almost never seen that kind of response to a post on Facebook written by a blogger. 137 mamas (and counting!) answered that question, and their answers were really something. They were just what I expected, but surprising at the same time. The most common response was one that I expected to see: clothes. These mamas just want clothes that fit. That's all. If you gave them $1000 today that they HAD to spend on themselves, and you really do have to stress that rule, they would buy themselves clothes that fit.

Isn't that just like a mom? These women spend all of their time, energy, and money on their families. Their kids are clothed, fed, and loved, and there's not much left over for the mamas. As mothers, our instinct is to give everything to our children and to think of ourselves last. We all know women like that; most of our own moms live by this philosophy and have unwittingly passed it on to us. We can't help it. If it comes down to clothes for us or clothes for our kids, we'll choose our kids, 999 times out of a thousand.

Of course, there were other, less practical responses. Some want new cameras, plane tickets to visit friends, or even $1000 worth of babysitting time to just sleep (great idea!!), and quite a few spa days. But clothes was the answer given most often, and I can understand why. When we become mothers, our bodies change. Pregnancy does a number on our figures. Then there's the crazy roller-coaster called the postpartum period. Breastfeeding, stress, lack of sleep, etc often cause weight loss or weight gain, or both! If you have multiple children, all of this is multiplied and the changes you undergo are basically non-stop. So it's no wonder that most mamas struggle to keep a closet full of clothes that actually fit!

This Christmas season, I hope to appreciate mamas more. I hope to find small ways to bless all of the wonderful mamas in my life. And I hope to remember this post on Facebook next time I'm trying to think of a gift for a new (or not so new) mom! If you're stumped, give them a gift certificate to Gap! ;)

Keepin' It Real + Our Weekend

I hope ya'll are having a wonderful Thanksgiving week! We're having a blast in Georgia with my family! I'm especially enjoying the fireplace and the food. Emmett is in heaven, and has already adjusted to the time change, waking up a whole two hours earlier than normal each morning. Yay! And thank God for grandparents!

I just wanted to share a quick Keepin' It Real moment from last week to link up with Corinna over at Track 8!

The other day I let Emmett play with a box of tampons while I made the bed. He does this from time to time- don't judge me- it keeps him distracted for a few minutes while I clean up or fold a load of laundry. A couple of minutes went by before I realized the toilet might be open. I sprinted to the bathroom, but I was too late. Way too late.

And yes, that's me in my slippers. Just all kinds of real going on in this picture.

Here are a few more photos from our weekend (linking up with Mary Beth at Annapolis & Co for Our Weekend!):

Daddy's home from work, the weekend can start!!

Working on the car in the rain. Such a man!

Let me go outside!!!!

Apparently Emmett loves boots. Funny story- he put a pair in the stroller's basket and
I didn't realize... We beeped on the way out of the store and I almost died of embarrassment.

Airplanes!!

Playing sticks with his papa!

The world's most bundled baby!

Oh, how I love seeing that baby in that backyard! This place is so full of memories from my childhood, and more recently from our wedding, so it's a wonderful treat to see Emmett running around and enjoying it too!

B.A.N.A.N.A.S

Emmett learned a new word recently y'all. "Nana" for banana all day long. Like really, all day. Every time we walk into the kitchen, or go to the grocery store, or see anything yellow, or shaped like a banana, or anytime he's hungry, or sees anyone else eating, etc etc etc. He really likes bananas.

A couple of weeks ago he wouldn't touch a banana with a ten foot pole, and then he learned to say the word and all of a sudden he'll eat 12 a day if you let him (I don't). It's like he's proud of himself for learning that word, all on his own, and he got really excited about bananas because he could express that he wanted one, all on his own.

It goes a little something like this:

"Eat, mama? Nanananananananananananananana"

"All done!"

Watching him learn is such an awesome thing.

Bath Time

When he was about 11 weeks old, Emmett started going down for the night promptly at 6:30 pm, every night. Of course he woke up a hundred times in the night (still does, most nights), but he never wavered on his 6:30 bedtime. This was so hard on me while I worked full-time. I would come home at 5:30, rush to give him dinner and a bath and a few short minutes of playtime before he started to melt down and we had to get him ready for bed. So hard! Until a couple of weeks ago.

One recent night he wanted to stay in his bath longer than normal. He was playing so happily that I just let him stay up, and each night since then he's been the happiest little boy in the evenings and stays up a full hour later than he always has. It's been so much fun! We linger in the bath, take long walks after dinner, and he runs around laughing and playing before we finally take him to bed.

Bedtime is another thing that's changed lately- Since he was born, I've always rocked and nursed him to sleep. I know they say you aren't supposed to, but I had such little time with him each day that I needed that special time with him each night, so I did it anyway. I'm glad I did because those are some of the sweetest moments we've had together, cuddled up and warm in his rocking chair, saying our prayers before bed.

Now we're working on weening him, so we slowly cut out the nursing and rocking at night. He fought me for a few weeks but now when we head to his room each night, we say his prayers and he just leans his head back towards his crib while I hold him, letting me know he's ready to lie down and go to sleep. It's peaceful and sweet and he's just such a good boy, I almost can't handle it! He's been sleeping so much better, even through the night a few times this week (!!!!!), so we are all really loving the later bedtime!

So now each night he takes really long baths. I sit on the floor next to him the whole time and he just plays and plays and chats with me. It's so much fun and I know I'll always remember these night as some of the most fun times we've spent together so far. I take tons of pictures and videos and send them to my family so they can see him so happy and funny. It's awesome!

"Little Weirdo"

Corinna's post this morning about Evie and her Altoids had me laughing out loud at my desk, so I thought I would chime in with my own little weirdo story.

Last night Emmett found a pair of socks in his room and his face lit up like he'd found the world's coolest toy. He tucked his little sock under his chin and wrapped it around his neck and walked around like that for an hour! So silly. I think maybe he was trying to wear it like a scarf like his mama does, but who knows.

I'm constantly amazed by the way he views the world. The simplest things make him happy and everything he sees is exciting and fun. Keep up the weird little Emmett!!

Linking up with Corinna at Track 8 and Annapolis & Company!