My Mother’s Day

You might not know this, but Sunday was actually my second Mother’s Day. Last year when I was pregnant with our daughter, my husband was incredibly thoughtful and bought me a Mother’s Day present. The card attached said “I am so happy you are the mother of my child. Happy first Mother’s Day.”

How sweet is that?

I was so touched that he wanted to celebrate me on Mother’s Day last year. So you can see that he set high expectations for himself. This year, he definitely met those expectations.

On Friday afternoon, Hubby came home from work and was clearly excited. Picture a little boy on Christmas, and you’ll have a pretty good idea of what I mean.

I was rocking baby girl in her bedroom when Hubby came in. He asked if he could give me my Mother’s Day present early. What was I going to say? No? So he brought a plastic shopping bag into the room and pulled out two beautifully framed pictures.

We took at trip to Peru in 2008 and brought home these gorgeous watercolors. I’ve wanted to get them framed for a long time but never expended the effort to make it happen, so Hubby did it for me. I love them!

But it’s definitely not the present that made my Mother’s Day special. It was how much thought and effort went into that gift. It was knowing that my husband loves me for lots of reasons, and one of those reasons is that I am the mother of his child. We have a gorgeous baby girl, and I’m proud to be her mama.

Didn’t you know? Babies are communal property of women everywhere.

You know how pregnant women’s bellies become communal property by month 9? Apparently, the same is true once the baby is born.

This morning, baby girl and I were sitting with my parents at church while Hubby sang with the choir. When our daughter was about a month old, Hubby and I both sang in the choir and my parents took care of the baby. They pretty quickly asked if one of us would kindly sit with them. Going to church with a 10-month-old (Can you believe my baby’s 10 months old today?) can be, well … interesting.


Help! Which advice is right for us?

Let’s face it: being a mom is scary. It seems like everywhere I turn there is something new I should be worried about for my daughter. When I was pregnant, people constantly said “You can’t eat that.” or “Are you sure that’s good for the baby?” After my daughter was born, I read parenting magazines that suggested feeding baby certain foods will make her smarter. Over the first few months of her life, people have said things like but she’s so small! or are you sure she’s getting enough to eat?

To all of them, I say thank you. I appreciate their advice. Really, I do. But how am I ever supposed to figure out which advice hubby and I should follow?


Recipe: Cheesy Chicken and Potatoes for Baby

I love, love, love cheese. Turns out baby girls does too. I discovered that my daughter likes cheese when I arrived at daycare to pick her up for one afternoon and found her munching away on shredded cheese. While I wasn’t thrilled that she had a new food without my knowledge, it turned out to be great because I wouldn’t have thought to give her cheese, and it’s one of her favorite foods.

So why do I tell you that since this is supposed to be a chicken and potatoes recipe? Because I use cheese to flavor the chicken and potatoes. Here’s the recipe: More

I’m totally a believer now

Even before baby was born, people would tell us how great it was to get her on a sleep schedule. It seemed like everyone – parenting magazines, other mommies, the pediatrician – talked about why I shouldn’t rock/nurse baby to sleep. But I figured What’s the big deal? Babies have been rocked to sleep for thousands of years.

And so I let baby girl nurse herself to sleep. If she woke up after eating, I gave her a pacifier and rocked her until she fell asleep again. Then I would put her in her crib.

It worked well enough. Baby slept at least 4 hours each stretch, and I never felt completely sleep deprived. We were happy, and I loved my night time rocking sessions with my baby girl.  More

The Great Sippy Cup Dilemma

My daughter loves, loves, loves to drink water. Since she was about 5 months old, she’s experimented with drinking out of my glasses. Usually she ends up covered in water, but it makes her happy so we let her do it anyway.

It’s pretty entertaining to watch her with cups. She sort of gets the concept and knows which side she should be able to drink out of, but she tries to drink regardless of whether or not there’s anything in the cups. See exhibit A from last night*:


Dog: baby’s role model

A friend of mine had a baby two weeks ago, and hubby and I brought our little girl to meet them this week. When we arrived, we were greeted by the tiniest baby I’ve ever seen. Little O is only 5 pounds and 10 ounces at two weeks old, but she’s healthy and perfect. She has those beautiful wrinkly baby feet and a teeny tiny little nose.

When we introduced my nine-month-old daughter to O, she smiled and gingerly put her hand on the little baby’s shoulder. That’s my girl, caring and gentle.


Adventures in eating out with baby

I love to cook, but I’m not great about grocery shopping, so hubby and I end up eating out a lot for dinner. Last night we went to Ruby Tuesday’s. The food was great, and I love their salad bar because I can get little bits of things for the baby to eat without having to bring something along. See? This is what I’d call a totally balanced baby meal: cucumber bites, peas, edemame (minus the shell) and shredded cheese.

Anyway, we finished up dinner and I decided it was time to change the baby’s diaper. So we trotted over to the ladies’ room to take care of it. I got the wet diaper off her and was digging in the diaper bag for the tube of Boudreaux’s (yes, I use Butt Paste – hate the name but it works like a charm). When I looked back up, there was a steady stream of urine quietly soaking my child, the changing table and her clothes.


Joining the Mommy Club

My entrance to the mommy club came early in my pregnancy. The morning after my husband and I discovered that we were going to be parents, I was still in shock. I arrived at work and promptly asked two mommies I knew if a positive pregnancy test really meant I was having a baby.

They assured me it did.


You see, I wasn’t overjoyed at the thought of having a child when we first found out we were pregnant. Although hubby and I wanted to be parents eventually, getting pregnant less than three months into our marriage wasn’t in our original plans.


The Mommy Club

Everyone says that women talk to each other about everything. That might be true throughout life, but for me, it didn’t really begin until I became a mother. Now that I’ve been through the whole pregnancy and childbirth thing, conversational doors seem to open everywhere I turn.

There’s a not-so-secret society that women enter once they become pregnant for the first time: the mommy club. For the most part, you don’t get a choice about whether or not you want to join. That’s probably because when you first find out you’re growing a little creature inside you, you likely don’t want to share the ins and outs — the joys and grossness — of that experience with women who are basically strangers.

Don’t worry, you’ll grow out of it. (Or should I say into it?) And we’ll initiate you anyway.


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