The Atlanta Children's Museum (& a walk through Centennial Olympic Park!)

I was feeling really stifled. All the strange cold-warm-wet weather and the wintry hours and let's be honest, CABIN FEVER, were really getting to me. So when Stevie got home from one of his work trips, I sort of exploded (while laying on the kitchen floor) about how I need more adventure and city life and thank goodness for that sweet man, he just asked me what that meant to me. "I don't know - I want to go to more museums!" Don't laugh, guys. I love a good museum. We decided on the Atlanta Children's Museum, because even though its not a real museum, it's recently reopened and we knew Everett would love it. So we ordered tickets online at 11pm that evening and woke up early the next morning, ready to seize the day.

We parked at the CNN Center because - hello! They have free parking for electric vehicles! Nissan Leaf for the win (praise hands, praise hands). And we walked a verrrrrry bitterly cold walk from the CNN Center, through Centennial Olympic Park, to the Children's Museum. Seriously, the wind was out of control and we were NOT dressed appropriately. I keep anticipating Spring, but no. It's still winter. I should have pulled out my Boston coat.

Pictures!

Have you been to the Atlanta Eye? This was the closest we got, but I still think it would be fun to go on at some point.

The Atlanta Children's Museum. Such a great place for kids on a chilly day.

The stairs play musical notes like a piano!

With all the toys and games and activities, you know what this boy wanted to do? THROW A BALL. Well, we could have done that at home, Everett.

They had an interactive story time that was really sweet.

He got SO wet.

This one kills me. I said, "Boys, smile for me!" And look at what I got.

Centennial might not be the poshest of parks, but Stevie asked me to marry him in the middle of this park at Christmastime 10 years ago, so it holds a special place in my heart.

We had such a great time! It felt really good to get out of suburbia and do something different on a Saturday. I will say that we got to the museum right when it opened, and that first hour and a half was the best because hardly anyone was there. Then people started filtering in and it got really crowded - so word to the wise - get there early! Plus everything is super clean then :) I would definitely recommend this at the perfect place to take your kiddos, especially on a cold or rainy day. We could have stayed much longer, it just got a little crowded for our taste. I thought Everett might be too young for the activities, but they offer such a wide range of things to do that it wasn't a problem. He will definitely love it even more when he gets older, but there was still plenty for him to explore as a 19-month-old.

We visited Ponce City Market after this little adventure - check back for those pics tomorrow! xox

Wonder, Waffle Makers and Adulting.

So we gave our son a waffle maker. Technically, this was our "family" Valentines gift, since it was ridiculously marked down at Williams Sonoma and since our son eats an insane amount of waffles. But we let him open it because, lets face it, kids are just really fun to watch open presents. This time was no exception. Everett had no idea what was in that box all wrapped up pretty with paper and a bow, but he sure liked figuring out how to unwrap it, with Daddy's assistance, of course.

This isn't really about the waffle maker though. There was something especially striking to me about Everett's demeanor as I watched him open this particular gift - an unfeigned wonder. He was genuinely thrilled about the present because he had NO IDEA what could be inside. He didn't know that the paper was from Williams Sonoma and he didn't know that the box stating "Breville" meant it had anything to do with kitchenware (or his favorite food!) He didn't know to be anything but himself, opening that gift. He didn't fake his reaction. He didn't think, "I can return this and get a gift card". He didn't have to like the gift at all. He just had to be himself and open it and for me, it was such a joy to watch it. Did I think I would get a strange reaction from my toddler opening up a waffle maker as a gift? Oh sure. That was like half the fun. I mean, what is a kid supposed to think about that? It's not a ball or a truck or a train. It's a waffle maker. I actually think he "got it" a little more than we anticipated. Once the gift was unwrapped, we explained how we would make his waffle in it and he seemed to understand. You guys, he really loves waffles.

As a side note, he definitely understands the concept now. He waits for it to heat up (completely impatiently) and once it beeps, indicating it is pre-heat ready for batter, he almost loses his mind with glee. "WAFFLE. WAFFLE. WAFFLE MOMMY!!!" He points, practically with his whole body, while I pour in the batter and, you know, let it do its thing.

Letting my son open this gift opened my eyes to the simplicity of a child's wonder. If only I could bottle it up and take it myself. I guess we adults would call that naivety - a grown up experiencing life with a childlikeness. But there is something about that spark, I wish I could naturally summon up a bit more wonder in my own heart for the things around me. I wish that opening up my laptop gave me the butterflies. Or driving my car made me feel like I'm in the Jetsons. But its Monday and I woke up a little groggy and a little overwhelmed and honestly, a little uninspired. Then I found these few photos and felt the laughter in my heart over such a silly experience- having my son open up a waffle maker as a present - but also the wonder. And I wish for all of you today - a bit of childlikeness that makes you fond again for the things that may seem mundane.

May you feel a sense of wonder today while you go out into the world and, you know, adult with the best of them :)

Then he said "Love you."

Stevie has been traveling a good bit for work lately. It's caused me to be in full-on mom mode all the time, which is kind of exhausting. I'll be honest, I've had to work on my heart about it. I have to remind myself that he's not off having a good time without me - he's working. And obviously, I hope he's having a good time while he's gone. But it's hard to not feel like, oh great, he's off in London pal-ing around with, you know, probably the Queen, and I'm stuck here reading Paddington Bear for the drillionth time. You get my vibe? I'm not saying I've had a good attitude. I've been working on it.

But with all his travel, it's caused Everett and myself to bond more than ever. We have been doing literally everything together, all day everyday. And that little kiddo is learning at such a lightning speed - he's got a great ear and is able to mimic my words and sounds remarkably well. I mean, at least I think it's impressive. I'm sure every kid can do exactly what he's doing, but I get to experience his learning curve quite literally, word for word, and it's simply amazing. This is the part about parenthood that is shocking and fascinating and so so fun. His favorite words? "Show" (means Sesame Street), "Elmo" (his favorite character), "Beep beep" (trucks and cars), "Chair Waffle Sausage!" (he's hungry and wants breakfast like right now), and "My Daddy" which is the one that kills me the most, because that's the first phrase he's said where he puts two words together. My daddy. Isn't that just the sweetest, most precious, most unbelievable thing? Sorry for all of you who aren't parents and think I'm being all goony - but I swear, one day you will understand. This little fella absolutely melts my already mushy heart.

The one thing that Everett has not repeated is the most important phrase of all - I love you. I say it to him a million times a day, and so does everyone else in his extended family. He has all his aunties and uncles and his Nana and Didi and Mimi and Papa and even his babysitters who tell him all the time, "I lovvvvveeee you, Everett!" and he just stares and then says, "Bye bye", mostly because I think he associates that phrase with leaving. But for all our coaxing, he won't say it.

I guess I should say that he wouldn't say it. Past tense. Because you guys. It finally happened.

I was putting him to bed the other night, and Stevie was still out of town. We had already done bath time, read a bunch of books, turned his little lamps off and tucked him into bed with his favorite "babies" (stuff animals). I was closing the door as usual, waving night-night and saying my usual, "I love you, sleep well" And as the door clicked shut, I heard the faintest sound.

His miniature little voice.

"luh ooh."

My heart jumped. Literally out of my chest.

Did I just hear that right? It couldn't have been...

And then again!

"Luh ooh."

Oh my word. My baby.

I quickly opened the door and let the hallway light flood into the room. He looked right at me. And then again!

"Luh ooh! Luh ooh!"

My voice almost cracked as I smiled through my cresting tears, "I love you, too! I love you too, Everett boy!"

He kept saying it and so I kept saying it and we both let the light and dark paint our vision while we whispered our love words all around.

My little boy loves me.

And he said it all by himself. Not prompted, not forced, not bribed with a cookie (not that I've tried that or anything). He decided to say something that he had heard so many times, spoken so tenderly to him, by all his adoring family.

Those words. They really are powerful.

After a long time of repeating the phrase, punctuated by a lot of "night-night" and "sleep tight", I finally closed the door. But I stood in the hallway a while and let the feelings feel me. This is what people are talking about when they say that having children is the most rewarding thing in the world. I've connected so very often to the feeling that having a child is the hardest thing I've ever done. Because it's seriously the hardest thing. But feeling that reward, that sense of pride in parenthood - I don't think I've felt it's effect quite like this. Until now. The love - it's just so strong it's almost hard to swallow.

I know that everyone has a different frame of reference for what love looks like in their own life. I know that love means different things to different people, and that the phrase "I love you" can bring up feelings of hurt as well as feelings of beauty. But I just want to say, especially to those of you who don't feel a sense of hope in your current state of love - this love thing gets better. Love is probably the one thing in life that really gets better with age. It gets sweeter, it gets stronger, it becomes more trustworthy and more surprising, all in the kindest way. I could have never imagined that the love I felt on my wedding day could be trumped, because up to that point it was my favorite day of my life. But already in my short tenure of marriage, I have felt even more love - even more comfort and challenge and triumph in that love that I get to share with my husband. And now, living smack dab in the middle of parenthood - truly, the hardest thing I've ever done - I am confronted with an even more confounding sense of love, presented to me by my innocent, astounding masterpiece baby boy. This love, well, you could try to break me of it. But there's no way you would have any success. I would gladly lay down my life for this love. This tender, tiny, and yet somehow simultaneously mountainous love.

It gets better, friends. It's getting better and better and better all the time. So take heart, brave ones - love is for us all.

P.S. - I didn't mean for this to happen during Valentine week. It's just the uncanny wonder of it all.

*Photo: Rachel Koontz, Eyesong Photography

Thoughts on Another Baby.

Stevie and Everett are my whole world. They are the hands I hold, whether we're in our back yard or at the park or on the city sidewalk. These two kindred spirits are my sweethearts, my heartbeat, my greatest voyage. They are mine. And I am almost painfully grateful for the gift it is to serve these two gentlemen with my life. Feminists, no need to cringe - I am treated like royalty by these two. We've got a mutual admiration society going in our household. We honor and serve one another, and my hope everyday is that Everett is catching on to that culture. Taking the cues from his Dad and learning from his mom. It's such a privilege, this opportunity to shape his worldview and raise his understanding. I am just in awe that I get to do this parenthood thing.

But with all of that love and adoration and basking in the adventure, I am often so exhausted I go numb. I am baffled by the enormity of what it takes to be a fully-present wife and mama. I am dumbfounded by how other women do it. How are they doing this so gracefully? Of course this leads to comparison and mom-guilt, which is stupid and unproductive, but it's real. How do women who work full-time do it all? How does that mama of 4 children do it all? I can't seem to keep my house clean, let alone manage all the other needs of this gig. These two boys have completely absorbed my life, and every last drop of my energy has gone into their happiness and wholeness.

Any mom can tell you that having a baby is hard. And any mom who chooses to breastfeed can tell you that choice is a sacrifice. And any mom whose baby won't take a bottle will tell you that it's an alarming scenario, because that means you can never ever EVER leave your child. And I will say "Amen" to all of those circumstances, because that was my situation when Everett came into my life. He was such a surprise. Such an immense blessing. The greatest gift I never asked for. And the most unraveling of my psyche. Being a mom is hard you guys. Don't get me wrong - there is nothing I would rather do than what I'm doing right now. But it's not a passive gig, having a child. It's not all Instagram cuteness and snuggles and reading books. It's sleep deprivation and body fluids absolutely everywhere and doctors visits that scare the hell out of you and being faced with decisions that you're 100% not ready to make. That's what having a baby is.

Is it crazy that I kind of want another one?

Yes. It is absolutely ludicrous.

I am grateful for the past six months. I feel like the pendulum has swung back in my direction, gifting me with my brain and my senses again. The first year of Everett's life was so intense and full-on, I felt like I was in survival mode to keep my head above water. I felt moments where I was tanking, and I often reached out to my right and my left for help. I am so grateful for the lifeboats all around me, those sweet souls whose words of truth and encouragement kept me afloat. And now I feel like I am really driving my ship again, doing my very best to steer in the direction I want to go.

Which is why, I'll be very honest, the thought of having another baby is a little frightening.

When I see my son playing with his little cousins, and I know he would thrive with a sibling in the house. Especially one that is close-ish in age. And when he sees other kids that are younger than him, he points and yells, "Baby! Mommy, baby!!" and is just so thrilled. I am certain that he would benefit enormously from a little sibling. And Stevie and I want a big family. We are both super close with our siblings and feel so much strength and camaraderie in those relationships. I certainly want Everett to experience the closeness and life-long companionship that is the gift of sibling-hood.

But honestly, it feels scary to go back to newborn land.

Is that selfish? I guess it probably is.

It's not just my selfishness that causes me to pause. It's also the fear that I won't love another baby as fiercely as my first. I LOVE my Everett so much. His presence in my life is the most illuminating gift I've ever been given. He causes me to see the world completely differently; so much better. He is hilarious and smart and silly and super free. I can already tell he is confident. He is poised to devour the world with his curiosity and humor. I can already sense his weaknesses. Even when he is prostrate on the floor, in an all-out tantrum, I can't help but giggle a little bit, because this boy has some fight in him. And I genuinely love his will and that spirited nature of his. He certainly won't go silently into the night. Heck, Everett didn't go silently into the night for the first 6 months of his life. As in, HE DID NOT SLEEP FOR 6 MONTHS STRAIGHT. But truly. How can I possibly love another little person just as much as this gorgeous, game-changing boy of mine? I mean, SERIOUSLY. What if the love just isn't as strong for another? How can my heart possibly expand any more? These might seem like silly questions, but they are the questions in my heart.

I'm just being really transparent. And my transparency is melting all over the weakest places in my heart and leaving me to wonder - will I ever, really, be ready though? I wasn't ready the first time around.

Are we ever really ready. For anything. Ever.

I have no poignant way to wrap up this conversation, because it is an ongoing dialogue in my head. But I am interested in hearing from those of you who decided to continue growing your family. I would love to hear the rationale behind the timing of your decision, how you spaced your kids apart (if you had the luxury of planning it!), and your fears, feelings, and joy about the outcome of those choices.

I know one thing for certain. I am ridiculously blessed to be Everett's mom. Best thing I've ever done with my time, ever. EVER. I guess that's kind of my answer right there, isn't it?

Christmas Snapshots 2015.

I hope your Christmas was wondrous, full of surprise and brimming with love.

We had an new set of experiences for Christmas this year, because we celebrated on our own in our new home! It was wonderful. However, in the week leading up to Christmas, Everett got a wicked case of pink eye (in both eyes!) and a virus that kept spiking his temperature super high. We were working around the clock to get him healthy, trying every remedy in the book (on top of antibiotics and fever-reducer) including lukewarm baths and tons of water with a little bit of juice thrown in for good taste and lotttttts of snuggles. And Elmo in pretty much every form - on TV, in books, in stuffed animal form, wherever we could find him, we would take him. Everett is in a hardcore Elmo phase right now. It's pretty cute. Anyways, we kept calling the doc (and went in twice - we are such first-time parents) and asking what else we could do for him, and they just said it had to run its course.

Babies should never ever get sick. It's just wrong.

Like the Christmas miracle that it was, Everett finally woke up from his second nap on Christmas Eve without a fever, the first in many days. We celebrated so big. There is truly nothing better than being in good health, especially when you've spent four days home bound with your sweet little boy. We were all feeling pretty stir-crazy, between being stuck in the house and all the torrential rain we've been getting (this weather! Why is it a steamy 75 degrees everyday in DECEMBER?!) But alas. All came together in perfect timing for Christmas day. And Everett was 24-hours fever-free before he saw any of his cousins the day after Christmas, which felt like a real win (not contagious!)

Is it funny that I'm here to tell you about Christmas and all I can do is talk about my kid? It was a bit harrowing for us. But Christmas is really all about kids! Am I right?!

Once we got to Christmas morning, Everett learned what those boxes under the tree were all about. He did such an adorable job, unwrapping each gift and gasping at what was inside. He is hilariously expressive. It was so fun to give him a few "boy" gifts, like toy cars and trucks (even one he could ride around in!) and a nerf football and even a little trike. He was in Heaven. We were in Heaven. Having a kid for Christmas is more magical than any presents you could open for yourself. And this is coming from a girl who is a former present hog. But it's just so true.

My parents and sister and her new hubby came over on Christmas Day, singing like carolers and armed with gifts and breakfast ingredients. My parents make a mean eggs benedict every Christmas, and because of Everett not feeling great, they brought Christmas (and breakfast!) to us this year. They are just the kindest. After Christmas with my parents, we headed over to my in-laws and did round 3 of Christmas with the cousins - whew! When I say I was overwhelmed by so much love (and good food! and gifts!) I mean it. When the three of us finally came home from all our Christmas shenanigans, we just sat out on the porch (in the tropical weather, thanks El Nino), and sat. In awe.

I am so grateful for this family of mine. I know I'm starting to sound like a broken record these days, but seriously, my favorite gift of the year was seeing the transformation from my sick baby boy back to his healthy self. No one's baby should ever be sick. It's an injustice. And they should definitely NEVER be sick on Christmas. I'm so thankful that he healed up and that we had our sweet family Christmas morning together.

I'm learning that life never looks quite how you planned, or imagined, or expected. I am learning how to be an adaptable one, learning to be flexible with the circumstances that come our way, and learning to find ways to be "good" with things that happen. Obviously, I wouldn't wish a sick baby on anyone, but instead of letting it be the absolute RUIN of our holiday, we just decided to make the most of our time in the house with Everett for the four days. While he napped and let his body heal itself, Stevie and I cozied up and binge-watched Madame Secretary on Netflix and made popcorn and didn't do all those last-minute Target runs I was sure we needed. And you know what? Christmas still happened, without all the items on my to-do list (ahem, expectations) getting met. And Christmas was really beautiful. These are the days, my friends. These are the good old days. Let's make sure to recognize it. xox.