A Freshly Picked Valentine Story.

A Freshly Picked Valentine Story.

Guys, my baby boy has a Valentine.

I want to say, "I don't know how this happened!" - but I really can't do that. Because I know exactly how it happened. I dressed up my son, took him over to my friends' house, and we proceeded to play babydolls with our real-life babies.

Sometimes moms need to have a little fun, too. Because there aren't adult jumperoos for us to lounge in all day long. SOMEONE INVENT THAT.

// He's probably just hiding his feelings, Finley. Boys are good at acting aloof. //

// These two. I can't even handle it. //

// HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A PRETTIER VALENTINE. The answer is no. //

// Some couples wear their matchy-matchy Chuck Taylors. Some couples simultaneously rock the Nikes. I once wore matching Vans with my skater boyfriend (yes I was in 7th grade, and yes, I still regret not keeping those rad sneaks.) But these two? Well, they're little moccasin wearers. And by little I mean that they are 6 weeks a part in age and my son is wearing shoes two sizes bigger than her. No big deal. Mom loves him. //

// Here, let me help you open the present I brought you. Here, let me help myself to a snack of the present I brought you. //

// He's all, "This snack is a different flavor than last time. " And she's all, "A book?!" (Feigned surprise, really thinking, "Where's the chocolate and flowers, man??" )

// Mom, he bought me a book. How am I supposed to read into this?? //

// Some boys get nervous to hold a girl's hand. Everett just wanted the chance to hold her foot. //

// Nailed it. //

Everett's Advice for Other Bros:

1. Never Show Up Empty-Handed.

Needless to say, his gift was well-received. This little lady, sweet Finley, politely accepted his on-trend choice and even pretended to look away when Everett lost his cool and was overwhelmed with the urge to NAP. What a classy broad.

2. Look Fresh.

In his case, Everett was looking extremely fresh - hence the footwear. Bathing really helps a brother out, too.

3. Give Her a Compliment.

A nice, "Hey Finley, cool head bow," would do just fine. But in his case he patted her soft rose moccasin and everything that needed to be said in that moment, was said.

4. Suck Up to Her Parents.

This isn't hard one when you're 6 months old and so cute that it physically hurts. Things get more challenging when you can actually open your mouth and say something awkward.

5. It's Okay to Cry.

He's a sensitive, communicative soul. We are lucky that she is so laid-back and optimistic about his opinions.

Match made it Heaven? Only time will tell.

Remember, sweet son, Mommy will always be your first love. And probably your first reason for needing some therapy.

Happy Valentines Day to you all!

Disclosure: this post is completely UNSPONSORED by Freshly Picked. Seriously. It's just that my friend Lena and I have a serious Freshly Picked moccasin addiction. And our kids are just cuuuuuuute in their little Valentine-y mocc selves.

Remembering and Forgetting.

My little boy is 6 months old, and I'm starting to forget.

I close my eyes really tight and try to conjure up the moments leading up to his birth. That incredible pain. Fear. The anticipation of meeting him. The strange wonder if it really was a him or if the doctors had somehow detected the "It's a boy!"-fact wrong. The clinical taste in the room. The sweat slicking all too easily off my skin. The early afternoon light peering through the window, bending in prisms around the Atlanta skyline. My husband's face, spilling over with hope and confidence in me. I can see his mouth forming words, coaching, encouraging, but I can't hear anything. He's speaking to me, for me, cheering me on, but I can't hear. I want to hear it, but I can only feel. His words are pulsing me. My body metabolizes every morsel, each utter, energizing the next push, and the next, and the next. Crying? No, there's no time for that. All the energy, emotion, spirit, power, it's all channeled into these few final, steady, manic moments. Breathe and push. Push like you never knew you could. The intrinsic, most feminine forces of my existence knitting together for the final gasps. This heady, rich sensation. Like being close to death but also very close to life. Everything suddenly crisps and I am there, body stammering, squatting, peeling my way around, and then.

Then.

I. Am. So. Glad. It is over.

He's here. He's mine. Wow, that's what he looks like. He looks so small and yet so so big. Rippled body, ruddy face, covered in a slimy something that I should find disgusting, except that I can't. Because he is so mine. And instantly I am his. And I know know know this is what I was created to do. I don't understand the journey until that very moment, the whole life journey that I've taken, but all of the sudden I know that he was part of the purpose all along.

Well, I guess I can remember it.

But I am forgetting a little bit day by day and I don't know if that's a good thing. Because I want to remember it as much as I want to forget it. And at the same time I find myself staring at him, this little boy who can already do so much, this beautiful specimen that I created, and I just wonder if it happened to me at all. I wonder if it was all unreal, if I'm remembering some scene from a movie, and not the most authentic moment of my being.

These are the feelings I haven't quite been able to process for 6 months. Six months to the day, actually. I'm starting to come out of a fog, though. Out of the fog, and I am grasping for this powerful memory that I may or may not be able to really remember. But as it unfolds itself to me, I am undone and overwhelmed at the gift. Staring in wonder and amazement at my dear-hearted, beautiful boy.

Everett Takes My Sleep.

This is a tease.

Last week, our little family took an impromptu trip to New York City. It was a work trip for Stevie, but Everett & I tagged along so that he could meet all his NYC friends (he has a lot of them!) The trip was a total success and I'm excited to share all about it... however. One very strange thing that my child picked up in the city that never sleeps is a new vigor to also never sleep.

He's been waking up every hour of every night for the past week. And that is not an exaggeration.

Sleep deprivation is a real, true, evil thing, people.

When my mind isn't an overwhelmed, exhausted mess of mush, I'll be back here.

Prayers, advice, thoughts on how to overcome this phase are more than appreciated. Mama is calling out an SOS here.

Halloween Shenanigans.

Halloween Shenanigans.

I have never been trick or treating before. Until Friday night.

My parents (and surprisingly, also Stevie's parents) weren't into celebrating Halloween back in the day. They didn't agree with the origins of the holiday, and so instead of encouraging us to dress up and trick or treat, we often enjoyed the day as a family in a different way. Many times, my mom would check us out of school and we would have a fun day going to the movies or a museum. My parents really made the day special so that my sisters and I didn't feel like we were missing out on something that all our friends were talking about. I love that about my parents. They really stuck to their guns and raised us in a way that felt right to them. They aren't the kind to cave into peer pressure. It is a really great example that they set.

So is it wrong that I still wanted to dress up my baby as a tiny little fox for Halloween this year?

I absolutely. Could NOT. Resist.

My parents shook their heads at me. Until I showed them these pictures.

Foxes. Are so in.

I decided a few weeks ago that I wanted to dress Everett up as a baby fox. Because. Well, foxes are VERY in for baby boys. They are all over toys, gear & clothing this fall. And since apparently I'm a mega sucker for tot trends, it was decided then and there, in that Target aisle, that we shall be a fox family for Halloween. Mad props to my stylist sister, who helped me concoct the costumes for this grand event. Though when I handed Stevie the sparkly hair paint so that he could be the patriarchal "silver fox", I'll admit he put up more than a little resistance. But I just told him I would dress as a vixen and most of the argument ended. Little did he know that I would be the most wholesome, COVERED vixen ever to tread such ground. Heh. Plus! I had already bought Everett a little fox onesie! And it can't be returned! Tags had been removed! Muahahhaa. Call me the sly fox, thank you very much.

I made our ears and tails by (loosely) following this amazing tutorial. Gosh Pinterest is full of so many goodies when it comes to costume creation. I'll admit that as the countdown to Halloween was impending and I was still unshowered, teeth unbrushed and haphazardly choking on faux fur, I might have resorted to just stapling our bits of tail parts together. Forgoing the much studier hot glue situation. Oh well, it all worked. Other than Everett loathed his ears, so they only lasted for the pictures. And only a few of them.

// Toothpaste, Gingerbreadwoman & the sweetest Turtle I ever saw. //

// Kitty cats and Dinosaurs. With quite a bit of pizazz. :) //

// In all our costumed glory. //

"Trick or Treat!"

We trick or treated in an adorable Mayberry-esque neighborhood with all of Stevie's brothers and sisters, parents, and of course, our awesome nieces and nephews. We went before the creepiness of dark was upon us, and we were already done with the thrill of candy rush by about 7pm. It was pretty perfect. I love this family that I am so privileged to be part of. And my parents and his parents? They've relaxed a whooooole lot about the Halloween shenanigans. In the words of my darling mother, "We did what we thought was best for you. And now you do what you think is best with Everett."

Well, I think a little baby fox is perhaps the best thing I've ever seen. Of course, I haven't dressed him up as Santa yet. OH THE THINGS TO COME.

The Many Faces of Everett + Travel Tips?

The Many Faces of Everett + Travel Tips?

I really have tried to resist over-sharing baby pictures. Yet somehow I have turned into that monsterous baby-crazed lady, snapping 100+ photos a day of my child laying, playing, sleeping, screaming. I love them all. ALL. And yet I do feel sort of coo-coo for being that way. How did this happen? TO ME. I kind of can't believe it. I was never even a baby person. Not until Everett.

And oh my, Everett. He is full of personality. Has the strongest will. He is so funny and expressive. He gets bored way too easily. He doesn't just cry, he knows how to WAIL. He wants China to hear him. He really doesn't do anything half-heartedly. He is 100% present in all his feelings. And he has a lot of feelings. Like just now. He is feeling super annoyed that I put him down in his pack n' play to write this post. He's all like, "Lady, you think this mobile is entertaining? WHO DO YOU THINK I AM." And now he's crying. Translated from baby talk, that means he's hollering at me. Confession: I always hated it when other people's children would cry. It just sounded so irritating and distracting. And like, loud. However, when my baby cries, I just feel super bad for him. I find myself asking him over and over again, "What do you need? What can I do for you?!" - as if he will open his mouth and respond. Well, I guess he does respond. We just aren't speaking the same language quite yet. Although... we are getting there!

So I had to share a few of these wonderfully sweet photos of my babe-man from the past month. He cracks me up. It's okay if he doesn't crack you up, that's understandable. But you can humor me. BECAUSE I MADE HIM.

I'M BORED MOM.

// He likes to keep a little extra in his neck roll. For later. //

// I mean... seriously? Middle left?! BOTTOM RIGHT!! My uterus just skipped like 6 beats. //

In other news, we are heading back to NYC for a quick trip in a few weeks. Any tips on how to fly with a baby, get around a big city with a baby in tow, and any special products to pack would be suuuuper appreciated! I'll admit that I am a little nervous to fly with him because he just isn't the kind of child who will sit quietly in the corner. NOBODY PUTS BABY IN A CORNER. (Sorry, couldn't leave that one unsaid.) But seriously, he is not a docile, sleep-everywhere-all-the-time kind of kid. So... yeah. Help please.

Are you ready for Halloween? I am trying so hard to convince Stevie to do a family-themed costume for the 3 of us. So far he is putting up all kinds of "NO" to my ideas. But we will see if that lasts :)