Everett's 1st Birthday Party!

Happy Friday, friends! I hope you have lots of lovely plans in store for your weekend. It's been a really, REALLY busy week in our camp, with our upcoming move and lots of family events taking place, but I will have lots more to share about all of that on Monday. I wanted to take a moment today to share something super special that happened this past Saturday:

My son turned ONE YEAR OLD.

After sneaking into his room to watch him sleep every night this past week (that's not weird, right?), I am still in disbelief that my itty-bitty baby has developed into the most effervescent, beautiful, strong little boy over the past 365 days. The day of his birthday was especially peculiar for me, with my emotions oscillating between extreme excitement for his future and overwhelming sadness that my baby has outgrown himself day by day. I kept replaying videos of him over the past year, everything from his first grunts to his first smiles, first laugh, first crawl, first solid foods, ahhhh it's getting me all over again.

He is so sweet, so good, so infuriating and funny and fanatic and vibrant - I am overcome with gratitude. I am so lucky to be his mom, I am so lucky that he came into my life and surprised me with his joyful presence. His nocturnal, ever-teething, probably forever nursing (ah!) presence. Before I go completely emo-mommy on all of you, I'll cut myself short of all the reminiscing (since I already did that here) and just cut to the chase.

We threw him a pirate pool party with 45 of his closest friends. You can spot my immediate family members because we all wore pirate bandanas. You can spot me because my hair increasingly swelled with humidity every moment of the party. And you can spot my babe because he wouldn't let me put a bandana on his head; instead we had to settle for him wearing it around his neck like a bib. So he looks kind of like a cowboy while the rest of us experienced some rather excruciating head sweat, all in the name of committing to the theme. Honorable mentions go to my mom, who drew a mustache on with eyeliner.

My family is nuts. In case you needed the disclaimer.

Cousins with the she-pirate.

Super mimi!

My best creation.

Watermelon pirate ship. Perhaps my second best creation.

A special smash cake, all for him!

Happy Birthday, Everett Lee!

You can see the progression. He didn't dig it. Well, he dug in, but he didn't dig it.

Sweet boy. It was just such a big day for him, with all the people around him fussing and making a big deal. He really didn't know what to make of it. And he didn't even try to eat the cake. Which is a shame, because Publix really does make a mean birthday cake. THAT BUTTERCREAM FROSTING.

Sometimes a boy just needs his dad. Especially when everyone is staring at the icing on your face.

My little nephews decided to take up their cross and bury their faces in the cake since Everett didn't quite understand the fun in it. These little guys have my heart.

A dip in the pool, to wash away the crazed cake memory. And that stubborn red frosting...

Boom boom. Heart snatchers, both of them.

We had a special present opening on the porch. With Everett's girlfriend. AKA my future daughter in law.

Everything she picked out was his favorite. Of course. Because she's perfect.

Stacking cups for the win.

To all those matchmaking dads who try to make their babies kiss each other goodbye... GET A LIFE. Okay fine, I might have had the camera poised in hopes of capturing the epic moment. Alas, a kiss never came. #theresstilltime

Happy Happy Day.
And just like that. My boy is one. I am dumfounded, caught up in the fleeting wonder of parenthood and childhood and life. Any advice for this mama of a 1-year old, entering the toddler stage with a busssssssy boy? I'm all ears!

More up here next week on the party planning elements - how I made a pirate ship out of fruit, festive food for kiddos and adults alike, and the awesome photo booth that we kind of forgot to use. Oops.

Happy weekend to you! XOX

Psssst - In honor of his birthday, I am hosting a giveaway with Freshly Picked to gift a pair of babe moccasins (our favorite shoes) to one lucky winner! Do yourself a favor and enter here - it's the best kind of birthday favor, I promise!

9 Holes of Golf (Sort of.)

9 Holes of Golf (Sort of.)

Stevie is having a bit of a moment. He has a baby boy.

So obviously, he has taken Everett out to do some man-ish things. Like throw the football. Yes, you read that sentence correctly. Meaning, he has put the baby in the stroller, wheeled him onto the  grass outside, thrown the football around the yard to NO ONE, and explained the basics of the game to my drooling, dribbling 3-month old son. I'm pretty sure Everett needs to be able to grasp Sophie the Giraffe for longer than thirteen seconds before we move on to toying around with pigskins. I watched from the window and howled with laughter. I mean, STEVIE.

Of course, that was a few weeks ago. His latest, greatest idea for some father-son bonding was to take Everett for a round of golf. Yes. Though, for this outing he decided he would need the help of his trusted assistant, so mommy had to tag along. I thought this was going to be the worst of Stevie's ideas for rushing Everett into adolescence (hello, golf balls flying through the air?? Safety hazard!!)  However, it was surprisingly fun. And quiet. We walked the course instead of carting, so it was excellent exercise. And we went at 5pm on one of those recent, freakishly warm weekdays, so we weren't rushed with people playing the course behind us. It was utterly calm, quiet and truly, stunningly beautiful. I kind of get why people like to play golf. I even chipped and putted a bit. And yes. Everett completely dug it. As much as a 3-month old can.

// Showing Everett how to practice his swing. Oh geez. //

// Sometimes daddy got boring, so... SELFIE! //

Another Family Date SUCCESS.

Is a golf course the best place to bring a baby? Maybe not. But its certainly not the worst. The fresh air, the setting sun and the spacious, quiet course. It was a green dream. And Stevie? Well he was simply giddy to be showing and explaining the game to our son. Whether or not the boy actually absorbed a single thing from it. It has been my mission to find some fun family dates that work for us in this new season of our life, and this was another great (unlikely!) one. Here's to making the most of the great outdoors before winter is upon us!

A Picnicing Trio.

A Picnicing Trio.

Lately I've been feeling a little bit claustrophobic and cooped up. I have a newborn and we spend our days indoors, while I beg him to nap and he begs to differ. So when the weekends roll around, all I want to do is have FUN. And my definition of fun is getting redesigned, since there are only a handful of places that we can comfortably take our newborn child. Without getting glared at. I wish we were in a phase where would could easily tote our little babe along anywhere, but that's just not the case. Enter the perfect solution/afternoon plan: the picnic.

Ah, the picnic. A great American pastime. The darling weaved basket, the iconic food, the oh-so-slurpable wine. Picnicking is what adorable people do, like couples in endless love or families with golden retrievers and approximately 2.5 children (probably donning Land's End polos. Yes, the retriever, too.) Then it dawned on me. WE THREE SHOULD PICNIC. I mean, we live in Georgia again. There are lawns around here. We might not have a precious pup or an assortment of prepster gear, but we like to eat! We should be having some picnics.

// Lake McIntosh //

// What a babe. Both. //

// We thought we would read. The folly. //

// How bout them Braves, son. //

So last weekend we took off for our impromptu outdoor family date. And it was SO fun. We stopped by the fancy Fresh Market, treated ourselves to deli sandwiches and chips and some other tasty delights (that Fresh Market, my oh my, it's almost as decadent as walking through a Tiffany's.) We took our bounty out to a hill, overlooking Lake McIntosh in Peachtree City. Okay, we might have crashed a golf course and spread ourselves out on the lawn aplenty. But it had been a long time since I experienced such peace and joy. I breathed in the crisp air and held my baby close. Laughed at my awesome husband who has done everything in his power to make me happy. We ate and laughed and talked and played with our baby. And it was so so fun.

// Perfect view for feeding my little man. //

// Happy feet! //

We munched, Everett lunched, and we got to be OUT TOGETHER. As a family. Because we're a family now :)

Best of all? Everett could yelp until the cows came home and no one cared. Stupendous.

Life Lately.

Life lately.

A lot has been happening. All big changes. New experiences. While my son is hard-wiring for his lifetime here on Earth, I feel like I've transported to life on another planet. I'm wildly exhausted and scurried, yet I feel like I'm getting nothing done all day. I know that raising a baby is the MOST IMPORTANT thing I can do with my time right now. But it can be challenging to constantly remain positive about it when the days are endlessly long and pretty freakin' hard. And when I feel like my brain cells are being depleted and I am morphing into a mere milking, diapering, baby-holding buffoon. I used to have real world skills! I think. My emotions vacillate from over-the-moon-infatuated with my darling baby to... purely depleted and sometimes weepy. Just depends on the hour. And how much sleep I've gotten.

My life lately?

Midnight milk parties, consumed by my little babe's sleepy noises and milk-laced grins. And of course, these are the moments I so desperately want to capture, and CAN'T, because the room is so darn dark. I wish the iPhone made an infrared camera.

I keep finding colic tablets in my sheets. Am I producing them?

Re-swaddling the maverick child who un-swaddled himself, then knocked himself in the face with his puppy-hands, then cried about it. Then woke me up. Then mommy cried too.

Eating the same foods everyday because they are the most surefire way to NOT upset his tummy. 24 hours of a baby wailing because I ate garlic, yogurt or salsa just isn't fun. And it also isn't worth it.

Trying every possible comforting sound, movement, song and dance (yes, I am baby whipped and dancing like a monkey) just to give my under-stimulated, overly-bored and often-times tummy-aching child some distraction and relief. I've run out of all the good ideas. But I'll attempt all the lame ones too.

My daily mantra: "Please God, give me grace and give Everett peace. Let him know I love him so much. And get me to my 8pm glass of wine."

Don't even get me started on how often I get peed upon. I've started to think about it as the anointing of the mother/son relationship.

Now don't get me wrong. There are a ton of gorgeous moments, too.

Like when I pick him up as he's screaming and he immediately softens. Reaches up. And wraps his darling Popeye arms around my neck. And then smiles RIGHT INTO MY EYES. Cue heart melt. Oh wait. I'm crying again.

Like when I put him on his play mat and show him how to reach up and touch the rattling mobile with his hand. AND THEN HE DOES IT BY HIMSELF. I taught him something and HE LEARNED IT. Crying over here.

Like trading in my R&B Pandora stations for Baby Einstein. We jog and sing to the hokey pokey, twinkle twinkle, and thankfully, those songs that Jack Johnson did for some children's movie. Yeah, the other outdoor exercisers in the neighborhood can hear us coming. Straight from old McDonald's farm.

Like when he's just finished nursing, and he looks up at me with those sleepy-happy eyes, milk dribbling down his cheek, and just yawns (and often farts), wriggles around a bit and finally sighs himself into a deep sleep. Knowing that I met all his needs is the BEST feeling.

I think I'm becoming a mom.

A Month of Motherhood.

A Month of Motherhood.

Aaaaaaaaaaand we're back! I've taken the past month off from the blog to, you know, adjust. To life with a baby. But I am finally starting to get some sleep (keyword: some) and I've missed writing and this wonderful community of wonderful readers (that's you!)

The past month has been the biggest shift in my life. A bigger shift than getting married and moving in with a boy. A bigger shift than moving to a different city (more than once) and "starting over". This has been the big one. Laboring and delivering this child was no joke, but the responsibility for another human's life? That's hefty. That's not the kind of thing you want to screw up. But when you're new at it, you have NO IDEA how to keep another human alive. Especially when they're tiny (well, mine is sort of tiny), and rightfully needy. Feed them? Change them? Um, get them to go to sleep?! How does one do that?! Perhaps for some ladies, knowing how to care for a child is innate. But I was never the babysitting type. I was never an ooey-gooey baby-loving person. I never wanted to hold other peoples' babies, I was just fine looking at them from here, thanks very much. I'm the kind of aunt that never changes diapers, I just like to give presents and play with them until the tears set in (too intense!) This isn't a secret. And I don't feel all that bad about it (although my sisters might wish that I wanted to change their kiddos diapers a bit more.) However, I see that there are some benefits to being aware of baby-ish things before you actually have one of your own. Because PEOPLE. I'm pretty clueless.

Well, I should say I was clueless. The past month has felt like a college crash-course. Stevie and I have been soaking up every experience, attempting to trouble-shoot our child's needs and identify the "what" and "why" for every noise he makes - it is a stupendously serious learning curve. It has been awesome and sometimes a little bit awful. But we have laughed and marveled at our sweet son way more than we have cried. So that's positive. But there are a few things that I have learned this month... mostly to just BE OKAY with this hilarious, humbling process of becoming a parent. Hopefully, a good one :)

What I've learned in the Past Month of Being a Mom:

- It's okay to wear your maternity clothes post-birth. In fact, you probably have no other choice. Yes, you might have lost twenty pounds in the hospital, but there still isn't one thing in your closet that will fit your bod. AND THAT'S OKAY. Rock those maternity sweatpants. Yes, rock them for weeks.

- It's okay if your baby projectile poops all over you. It's organic.

- It's okay if your baby pees all over you. More than once in a day. He's just spirited.

- It's okay if the most glorious part of your day is when you get to take twenty minutes to yourself to take a shower. Note: I remember hearing this from a lot of moms when I was pregnant, and I honestly thought it was the saddest, most pathetic thing. Taking a shower? Like, that's a luxury?? Sad, sad women. Well, I stand corrected. TAKING A SHOWER IS AWESOME FUN. I think I will go take one now.

- It's okay to commandeer your baby's burp cloth as a tissue for your tears because HE WON'T STOP CRYING. Your tears are bigger than his tears, so you need that burp cloth more than he does.

- It's okay to feel mad at your husband for going back to work after paternity leave. Yes, I know he has to work to support us. Yes, I know he has to actually sleep at night in order to actually work the next day. I know all of this. I'm just still mad.

- It's okay if you feel quarantined from the real world during those first few weeks. That's because you are. But you're healing and you're getting to know your little smoochy-poo. All is right in the world. Just be okay with it.

- It's okay to online shop at Baby Gap on your phone during those late-night baby feedings. Oh wait, maybe that one is not okay...

- It's okay if you feel like you are using too many wipes and diapers. How many wipes does it take to change a diaper? Sheesh I don't know. Like 15??

- It's okay if your husband thinks you're using too many wipes each time you change a diaper.

- It's okay to send your husband to the store multiple times in a week to buy more wipes.

- It's MORE than okay to eat your heart out. Literally. Nursing a baby depletes all your energy and you need the calories. So eat up! But I mean, make it good stuff. Because your baby is suuuuuper impacted by everything you consume.

- It's okay to cry a lot. Like, a whole lot. YOU ARE NORMAL AND THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH YOU.

- It's okay to take a lot of time to process your labor/delivery experience. I still am. Things never go as you planned. Talking to people about it really helps.

- It's okay to drink wine now. HURRAY!

There is more to be said, but as the post has gotten lengthy I will just sum up. It's all okay. It's just going to be okay. Okay? K.