Second Time Mom Fears | Little Ark Kids

  

Lately Klair has been talking up a storm and constantly amazing me with her vocabulary and ability to form precise (and oftentimes grammatically correct) sentences. This has been going on for a few months now and increasing a lot lately. You would think I'd be used to it by now... but I'm not. I don't know if I can ever get used to having conversations with Klair because, in my mind, she will always be my baby.

Sometimes, I forget her actual age. She is so skilled at expressing her emotions, and so easy to talk to... that when she actually acts like a 2 year old it startles me and I find myself expecting more out of her. ...until I remember that she is  a 2 year old, and I should probably expect/allow it.  I guess I both love and hate the fact that she acts older. I mean, it's nice in terms of our ability to communicate effectively, but why does she have to be in such a hurry to grow up? She just barley had her second birthday, yet if you ask she'll confidently tell you she's six... and I think she believes it.

I broke down crying the other night to Sam. It was probably a combination of how late we had stayed up and pregnancy hormones, but I was pretty unconsolable on the point that Klair is simply growing up too fast. I know that parenting (like life) is nothing but constant change, but what if I don't want it to change? I really like the way things are now, and part of me would love to find a pause button... or at least a slow-motion option. Klair is adorable right now, and so fun! AND, she loves me... like... adores me, and needs me constantly. She actually wants me around... and I'd be kidding myself if I believed it will be that way forever. At some point I will no longer be mama/mommy, and I'll just be mom. Or, the dreaded "Mo-o-m!" followed by an eye roll. Please slow down baby girl, and stop growing for just a minute will you?

I think I also feel the impending birth of our second child. And, while I'm over the moon with excitement to meet him, I'll be honest: I'm a little nervous as to what another baby will do the dynamic of our family, and my relationship with Klair. Everyone tells me it will be fine, that we will adjust--and I know we will. But let's be honest, she's been spoiled. She has had my full attention during the days for, well, her whole life... and both mine and Sam's attention at night once he's home. It's going to be hard on my first born to suddenly have to compete for our time throughout the day. I know this is ultimately a good thing for her, a healthy change of pace... but I still have feelings of pre-guilt for the abrupt change that's about to take place--something I can't really prepare her for even though we've had many a conversation on the topic to try and soften the blow a little. And then I have feelings of guilt knowing that I won't be able to give our son the same level of attention that Klair received in her first couple of years... it's simply not possible. I want to do it all--be it all--but I feel inadequate to the task. Often times I think, "Ugh, I still have 15 weeks to go! That seems like forever!" Yet, when I contemplate the thoughts above I'm more inclined to feel like 15 weeks isn't nearly enough time. I want to savor and enjoy this time with Klair as much as possible, because April will rapidly approach and life is about to change drastically. I remember having a newborn... newborns are hard. And last time I didn't also have a toddler vying for my attention/affection.

Anyway, there's a peak inside the thoughts that have been plaguing me lately. Does it make sense to be completely excited for something while simultaneously terrified of it as well? Because that's how I feel about having a second kid. Quite the combination of emotions, I know. I can't really make sense of it myself.  I suppose all I can do is put my trust in the Lord and one foot in front of the other. My amazing husband reminded me that despite my own insufficiencies in parenting, He is sufficient... and it's enough to calm my worried mind in times like these.

On a slightly unrelated note, my daughter is pretty cute right? I know some people don't like it when parents openly brag about their kids... but I don't care. I can't help it. I find her absolutely adorable, and I'm in love with these photos that Sam took of her in her new little camera shirt--compliments of Little Ark Kids. Klair is obsessed with this new top, and I can see why. I love how simple Little Ark's clothing is--the type of tees that are easily dressed up or down depending on the occasion. In addition to being cute, this shirt is also so soft--a very comfortable option for a little girl on the go.

Make sure to check out this fun little local shop and their handmade apparel for kids on Instagram and Etsy, and have a happy (and safe) New Year's Eve!

Little Ark Kids

Instagram | Etsy 

Oh, This is Gonna Be a Good Life.

"This could really be a good life. "

I was laying in bed after a heartfelt prayer of gratitude, and this song popped in my head. Suddenly, it dawned on me that I really do have a good life (and then I felt impressed to grab my computer, so the following will be the spontaneous, albeit heartfelt expressions of my mind).

It's not that I haven't realized this before. Daily I am awestruck by the quiet, simple, beautiful moments that I'm blessed to experience. Like a tender embrace from my husband after we've both had a long day. His warmth and reassurance envelops me and eases all my tensions. Or, the quiet moments when I am able to sit and think of the life within me--my child to be--and allow the joy of pregnancy to overtake me. And, truth be told, often times my beautiful moments are much louder--full of songs, animal noises, giggling, and squeals of "that tickles!" from my ever-energetic toddler. Basically, I'm tremendously blessed.

But, as this song entered my mind and began playing (without much thought on my part) I was suddenly taken back to another time in my life. In past posts I've mentioned that my dad died when I was a kid. I was 14 to be exact, and the entirety of my universe came to a screeching halt as I watched his monitors flat line one cold and dreary January morning.

I remember that shortly after his passing someone gave me a blessing. Sadly, I don't remember exactly who it was... likely an uncle or a close neighbor... there was a considerable outpouring of love at the time from many we were close to. The priesthood and blessings from amazing men in my life were a great comfort to me. And, honestly, the surrounding weeks around my dad's death are pretty foggy in my mind... likely due to some unintentional yet very real suppression on my part.  Defense mechanisms of the brain I suppose. Anyway, it's not the vessel through which the blessing came that really matters (although I am grateful to whomever it was that gave it) but the fact that words came from my Father in Heaven. Ultimately that's who I remember speaking to me. They were his words, it was his promise to my aching soul.

I remember being told that despite this pain, I would continue on to live a good, happy life.

The line stood out among the rest, and it has survived the past 11 (almost 12) years and my brain's attempts to erase every memory I have of those days. At the time, I couldn't even begin to imagine a happy life. I was too caught up in the grief and despair of losing one of the most important people in my life. I was a young girl, and I had just lost my daddy. Happiness, and the promise of it, seemed unfathomable. Yet, I clung to those words and the promise inherent within them.

Now, more than a decade later, I can say with complete and honest transparency that those prophetic words delivered to a little girl in her time of need were true. My life is good. My life is immensely happy! Is it perfect? Of course not. Am I perfect? Heavens no! Far from it. I am flawed. Life is still often quite hard. But, I have the gospel and all of the hope that comes with it. If, even for a moment, I can stop focusing on the trees in front of me and allow myself to take a step back, gain some perspective, and look at the bigger picture... it's enough to render me speechless and utterly humble. The tapestry of my life is being woven with such beautiful, vibrant, happy threads. In these moments of increased vision there is no room for anything but gratitude for the weaver, each piece bound together by His love.

"If the world could remain within a frame like a painting on a wall then I think we'd see the beauty then, we'd stand staring in awe at our still lives posed like a bowl of oranges, at the beauty told by the fault lines and the soil."- Conor Oberst 

I still have insecurities and fears about the future. It's hard not to in this world. Yet, as our beloved prophet President Monson so eloquently and succinctly put it:

"The future is as bright as your faith." 

God is good. His gospel--the good news of Christ--is on the earth in its fullness. It gives me strength daily. It affords me the ability to cherish the present, and maintain high hopes for the future. Because of Him, I am able to hold my head up, looking towards the unknown with the utmost certainty that--

"This is gonna be a good life. A good good life."

Klair Marie is 18 months! | The Photo Shoot

Exactly 1.5 years ago today I held the most precious, perfect child in my arms for the first time. Born wide-eyed and smiling, when our eyes met for the first time my heart stopped, my breathing ceased--and I've never been the same. My capacity for joy, sadness, anxiety, contentment...basically my ability to feel was magnified exponentially. I became both stronger and more vulnerable than ever. And, in a year and a half, I've learned more about life, love, and eternity than I managed to in the (almost) 24 years before her. She is my greatest teacher. She is God's love unfeigned. 

Because we consider her to be our princess and angel, dressing her this way seemed appropriate. I'm one lucky mama. And a lucky wife! Sam captured all of these moments. I think he's pretty talented, and it was so sweet to see the love in his eyes as he photographed his baby girl. 

I wanted to post this pictures as soon as possible because I couldn't wait to share them, but I do have an update post in the works complete with some videos of baby girl's current "Klairisms" (as I like to call them). She is so smart and funny these days, I feel like video is the only way to accurately capture her ever-evolving personality. I'll hopefully have that posted by tomorrow. 

In the mean time here are some of my favorites from the photo shoot. 

The face she pulls when we ask her to say "cheese:" 

The face she pulled after she finally managed to pull her headband off 

(a feat she had been attempting throughout the shoot): 

Happy half birthday Miss Marie! 

Mother's Day | "MOMories"

"Mama."

This is who I am--my identity. Later it will likely change to "Mommy" then "Mom" and, on occasion during those lovely teen years "MO-OM!" (pronounced "mah-ahm" with an evident bit of annoyance).

I'm a MOM. !!! 

Wow. I'm still trying to wrap my brain around that one. I'm not sure I ever will. I brought a life into this world. My body housed and nourished a child for 9 months, and fed her for another 14 after that. I know I did these things. I remember them, I have photographic evidence... but it still seems so surreal. The whole pregnancy process is mysterious, amazing, and beautiful. All of motherhood is.  I continue to feed, nurture, teach, and love her, but she teaches me more. She is my daughter. She looks to me for comfort, safety, love, assurance, guidance, and fun. We have so much fun! I turn to her for everything. She and her dad are my world, and every moment I spend with either of them strengthens the love I have for both. I have spent more time with that little girl than anyone else in my life. We know each other so intimately, yet... there's still so much to learn. And, I wouldn't have it any other way.

My Klair Marie has captured my heart. She has taught me to love in a way I didn't know was possible until that blue eyed, mischievous little blonde came along. She showed me what it means to truly live. She is the embodiment of the love that Sam and I share. Before her we were happy, but now... now our happiness is at a level that we could never have dreamed of. She is everything good, beautiful, and pure in this world, and I am humbled to be able to call her mine.

With Mother's Day approaching, I can't help but think of all the beautiful moments that I've been able to experience in the past couple of years. I was recently approached by Dropcam for a "MOMory" campaign that they are doing in honor of Mother's Day. Thus, with this cute little pun in mind, here's a link-up with a few of my fondest "MOMories" with Klair:

 The moment we discovered I was pregnant--when we found out she was in fact a she. The first kick. The ultrasounds. The magnificently beautiful, transcendent moment Klair was born. All of her firsts--her first cry, her first smile, her first laugh, her first word ("mama"), her first scoot (she was a scooter) her first step. I even remember some of the harder moments with a bittersweet sense of fondness. When she has been sick or sad, she clings to me for comfort, and in those moments I am able to calm the storm within her--not because of me, but because of what she inspires within me. 

Additionally, as Mother's Day approaches, I can't help but think of my own mom. She went through so much, struggled so terribly at times to keep it all together in a family that was constantly being barraged by the fierce winds of opposition. Yet, through all of the pains in our family, addiction, illness of every variety, the death of my dad--she somehow made it through. And, although there were hard times, I always knew that I was loved. I had a sense of security. I had a home. I knew I could go to my mom, and she would let me lay my head in her lap while she played with my hair. I have many fun, beautiful, and tender "MOMories" of my own mom. And, now that she's a grandma, I'm able to see her in a whole new light that only adds appreciation for the mother that she is.

Lastly, with Mother's Day just a few days away, I can't help but think of all the strong, loving, nurturing female figures in my life who have "mothered" me in some way or another. I don't think that motherhood is reserved only for those who have children. There are some women who give birth that never mother a day in their lives. While there are others without children of their own who mother every day of their life. I believe when we, as women, accept and embrace the divine potential within us to love, to nurture, to inspire, to lift the hearts that hang heavy, then in those moments we truly embody the essence of what it means to be a mother. There have been many women, too many to count, who have extended love and true charity to me in a way that only those with a mother heart really can.

Motherhood. In a world where the role of a mom is viewed as less than--is constantly diminished and relegated to the sidelines in terms of what is important, or worthy of a modern woman's time--I'm grateful to know how important moms and mothers of every variety really are. I'm thrilled to be part of a church that honors, even reveres the sacred work of women--of mothers. Because of Him, I have strength, guidance, and perspective. Because of Him, I have true purpose and joy.

 “Motherhood, is near to divinity. It is the highest, holiest service to be assumed by mankind. It places her who honors its holy calling and service next to the angels." 

-The First Presidency of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints 
...

Our Matching Outfits.
Yep, I'm one of those moms.

Mine (similar items): 

Chambray Shirt | Midi Skirt | Pumps | Necklace 

Klair's (similar items): 

Chambray Shirt | Dress | Necklace (vintage) | Shoes | Bow (homemade--tutorial here) 

Sharing Style: The Comfortable Mom (Without the Mom Jeans)

Do you ever have one of those days where you just need to be comfortable? When getting dressed feels like a chore--one that you definitely don't have time for? Whether you're a mom with demanding little ones, a college student with a chemistry final on your plate, or a career woman with one day off to try and finish your errands and juggle the demands of your personal life... I think we've all been there. I've been each of these at different times, and maybe you're all three. I currently fall into the first category, and it's amazing how demanding one little baby can be on my time. There have been many makeup-less days where baggy sweaters and the high, half-hearted bun have become my default. And while this isn't necessarily a bad thing, I definitely think there is value to feeling a little put together, maybe even a little pretty... especially on, those days. This look is one that comes together quickly, and is comfortable enough to let me tackle the tasks of the day (like running all over town and chasing after a toddler). 

This easy side-braid is a nice alternative to my typical top-knot and high ponytail (thanks, Katniss!). I paired it with printed leggings, a flowy tunic with pretty gold detail, and the comfiest flat booties around. Throw in a few staple pieces of jewelry (I always gravitate to my gold necklace and watch) and voila! You have a look that is both fun and practical, easy yet polished. 

What are some of your go-to quick styles for those days? 

Similar Items: 

Tunic | Leggings | Booties

Growing Pains

I've heard the term before. (Apart from the 80's sitcom) I've always understood it to refer to the general aches and pains that a child feels when they're going through a growth spurt. Or, maybe even the typical emotional stuff that we all go through as they try to navigate the tricky business of, well, growing up. This past year the term has taken on a whole new meaning. No one was ever kind enough to clue me in to the fact that growing pains are not just for the kid. In fact, I'm now convinced that the parental component is sometimes worse than the achy shins I felt when I was 12 (and achy shins were pretty awful). These past few week have been one of those times: 

I'm trying to wean Klair.
And, even though her world has been completely turned upside down,
I think I might be taking it harder than she is. 

I've done everything I'm supposed to when it comes to feeding Klair. They recommend exclusively breastfeeding for the first 6 months and then continuing to breastfeed with solids until a year. I did that. 12 months came and I was pretty proud of my accomplishment. But then 12 months went and the "official" recommendations ran out. I guess I always (naively) imagined that the magical 12 month mark would come and she would begin weaning herself in some natural coming of age progression. Not so. She is now 13 months old and I'm left guessing what's best for the next step.  

There are so many "unofficial" ideas about what is best floating around the internet. It's dizzying to say the least and trying to siphon through all the opinions seems pretty pointless. At Klair's 12 month appointment I was hopeful to receive some direction from her pediatrician. No such luck. At the end of the day he and the AAP essentially say it's up to the mother and the child... but, last I checked Klair can't really make these kinds of decisions for herself. 

So, basically what I'm being told is "good luck, Mom! It's up to you to figure it out." 

Without a conclusive stance from the research, and a husband who is supportive of whatever I decide (which translates as "Yep, Sweetie, that's your territory") I was left to my own devices. My original intent was to reduce the number of feedings down to one before bed and keep this up until 18 months or so. In my mind, this seemed to satisfy my desire to keep breastfeeding for a bit (because Klair and I enjoy it so much) while staying within the bounds of what is culturally acceptable--a.k.a. not too weird. I don't want to be one of those moms featured on Time magazine after all. Additionally, I thought it would be beneficial to continue giving her antibodies through cold and flu season. It seemed like a reasonable plan. 

Her 12 month appointment threw a wrench in my plans. Her stats for weight and height came in and the data was slightly worrisome. She has always been tall for her age, and this didn't change. She came in at about the 80th percentile (a slight dip from her previous 90th percentile, but tall all the same). Her weight was a different story. She went from being in the 75th percentile for weight, down to about the 35th. I had noticed that she was thinning out--her rolls on her thighs went from 2 per leg to 1--but I was unaware how much she had lost. The doctor indicated that this was a pretty normal trend for breastfed babies, and that even though she was skinny he wasn't too alarmed--provided the trend didn't continue. Ultimately I could continue breastfeeding, but I needed to make sure she wasn't forgoing food in favor of milk and exacerbating the weight loss. 

Over the next few weeks I noticed that she started doing exactly this. When she first started solids she was so excited about them that it was all she wanted. Apparently food lost its novelty because her desire for it waned a bit and milk became cool again. At the year mark she did the opposite of what I had hoped and decided that milk was the bees knees and that food was barely tolerable. She continued to thin out and the need for weaning became more and more apparent. 

Thus, I started the dreaded yet evidently necessary process. I quickly got rid of her afternoon feeding (it was more of a snack) and was down to three feedings a day--morning, nap time, and bed time. I then eliminated her morning feeding without too much fuss and it seemed the process might actually go smoothly. I was wrong. I attempted to stop feeding her at nap time and bed time (thinking that it would be too confusing to stop one and not the other pre-sleep feeding) and she. lost. it. !

I have never seen my baby so upset. I knew she loved breast milk. I had no idea that her entire universe revolved around it. 

To borrow a term from the Book of Mormon, there was a lot of "wailing and gnashing of teeth." She cried so hard I thought she might throw up. Nothing I could do would console her (well, except breastfeeding of course). Luckily, Sam was home for the holidays so he stepped in. He had to deal with a fair amount of crying, but with his super human patience (and a lack of milk to give) he was able to get her to sleep. I, on the other hand, had to remove myself from the equation entirely or she would lose it all over again. 

I had literally gone from hero to zero in her eyes. The tension between us was palpable. The whole process was extremely emotional and painful for me... hence, the title of this post. I had discovered how applicable growing pains are to the parent. 

Despite how hard it all was, it was working. Klair was doing well enough adjusting for those first couple of days and I hoped this meant she could make the transition and maybe even learn to like me again. 

...and then Sam had to go back to work. 

Pardon my French, but all hell broke loose. That first day that I tried to put her down for a nap without feeding her was nothing short of a disaster. She was obviously exhausted--quite ready for a nap. But, when she realized that I wasn't going to breastfeed her she started the crying. I tried everything I could think of--reading, singing, rocking, swaddling, swaying--but nothing could stay the incessant, heartbreaking cries. Finally, after over an hour of this, I broke. I started crying, trying to explain to her through my tears why I was doing this. 

To my surprise, a miracle happened. She turned her head, peered into my tear-filled eyes, and stopped crying. She looked confused, yet contemplative-- as if trying to work through it all in her mind. Then, she deliberately and tenderly touched my face and started babbling in a calm, happy manner. It felt like she was trying to reassure me--no, actually... I'm convinced that is exactly what she was doing. I marveled at the empathy, and all around brilliance my child had just displayed. In that moment I caught a glimpse of how truly wise beyond her years my baby girl is. 

After our tender moment, she wasn't so resistant to my efforts to help her sleep. I re-swaddled her, she relaxed into my arms, and we rocked until she finally drifted off. She had compromised. 

I decided to do the same. 

I started feeding her before sleep-time again. I think perhaps in my efforts to wean her, I had tried to do too much all at once. Now that she is down to just two feedings a day, she is eating more solids and it seems her appetite has increased. And, with some semblance of normalcy restored for, she is happy again. Apparently she wasn't ready to go cold-turkey...and neither was I. I still plan to wean her completely in the near future, but I'm not sure of the time table quite yet. 

Has anyone had any similar experiences with a baby who just wouldn't wean? Am I the only one who feels like this process is a confusing, roller coaster of emotions? 

Klair during nap time after throwing a fit to go to sleep. We put her in her crib to see if her tiredness would overtake her. Apparently it did...while she was sitting up. Stubborn girl.