the rest of the picture.

She was wearing an orange and purple, green and blue, tye-die tube top and very large, what looked like men's, red, black, and white, plaid pajama pants, with badly worn beige sandals, as she carried her three month old baby boy in his car seat. "He's really big for three months," she said. "He is, he's bigger than my seven month old," I said. It was hard for her to carry him in the car seat, and if you've carried a baby around in a car seat, you know the difficulty I'm talking about. She carried him far, and I mean far. She was visibly tired by the time she made it to her car. "It's almost easier to carry him without the seat," she said. "I know, I usually put mine in a carrier or a stroller," I said. We shared a smile and I told her to enjoy the rest of her day. I got in my car, she and her baby got in theirs, and we parted ways.

It's wonderful how social media has streamlined the "sharing" process. It keeps us connected, it gives us new perspectives, and it challenges us along the way. But life via social media, blogs, forums, etc., doesn't always give us the whole picture.

When all we do, all we are, and all we hope to be is thought to be seen by everyone, we make sure we approve of what we allow others to see, and we let what we see of others determine the value of ours. For some of us, this may be a constant struggle. But I can almost guarantee, at some point, we've all seen the way someone portrays their life, via social media, and thought to ourselves, "They're so much better at ______ than me." 

It happens. To the best of us, it happens. At some point in time, we saw something on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Pinterest, a blog we follow, YouTube, something, somewhere, that struck a nerve. For some, this nerve might be struck over, and over, and over again. For others, it may rarely be struck. But this is for the people who's twitchy nerve likes to get the best of them...

Look at yourself, your life, your worth, your dignity...through a better lens, and try to see the rest of the picture.

In regards to motherhood and social media, I see what other women do, how other people seem, and there are days, there are times, when I fail to measure up. And I will never measure up, because very simply, I am not them. Even though we share universal sentiments, my motherhood looks like mine,  and your motherhood looks like yours. For this reason, yours and mine are just as beautiful. I can't live your life and you can't live mine. And as much as social media likes to count and measure approval, you can't measure beautiful.

One of my best friends reminded me the other day, motherhood doesn't look the same for everyone.  Some moms take time to get all prettied up in the morning, some moms don't. Some moms speak gently to their children, some moms are a little less patient. Some moms stress the amount of veggies their kids eat, some moms don't. Some moms rock the best baby gear, some mom's don't. Some moms sing to their kids, some moms don't. Some moms always play outside, some moms don't. Some moms work and want to, some moms work and don't want to. It doesn't matter where you fall on the spectrum, or if you change this mom scenario and fill in the blank with your specific situation, none of this matters if you are looking at your life through the right lens, one that shows the rest of the picture.

The rest of the picture shows just how bad a** you are, and how you are probably doing the best you can. Our society would have told that young mom with the non-matching, loose-fitting tie-dye/plaid outfit, messy hair, and no-makeup face, that she wasn't beautiful. That her afternoon wasn't worth "liking." But when I saw her that day, non-matching, and smiling at her baby boy the way she did, I saw the rest of the picture. A mother who did her best to make it to her baby's doctor appointment, a mother who may not have much for herself, but who gives all she does have to her child. A mother who didn't care what anyone was thinking because she was exactly where she needed to be.

If I had taken a picture of her and tweeted it (hypothetically, because I don't have Twitter), or put it on Instagram (my new favorite!), or Facebook, or any other social media outlet, she wouldn't have been portrayed through the same lens she was captured. Her picture wouldn't have been liked by many, there would have been very few approving comments, and some would have judged her along the way...but if I could take social media out back for a sec., and give it some serious sass and a stern talking to, I'd say..."I don't really care what you think you see, or what you think you portray in this one glimpse of this woman, in this mother, because there's absolutely no way you can capture, as hard as you try, the entirety of who you think this woman is, you can't, and you never will. You may not see it, she may not even see it, but she is beautiful, and I bet if she looks at herself with a lens, one that's much better than the false lens you provide her with, one that shows her the rest of the picture, she'd see just how beautiful she is, too."

For when we look at what other people have, and when others look at what we have, that which is shown online, through the internet and it's jaded viewpoints, we have to remember, it's never the full picture. We can't assume we know how good or bad others have it based on their social media sites, and we can't judge ourselves on ours either. We can't forget how worthy, dignified, and beautiful the rest of the picture is. 

::

two, too fast.

This weekend, she'll be two, too fast. It's hard to believe. It's hard to imagine what my heart looked like before she moved in, before she softened it like no one else could have. Joseph always like to remind me how much I teach her, encourage her, and show her how to navigate through life all around her, but most times I feel like she's the teacher. She reminds me to love with no expectations, that life is better sung and danced, and that everyone, and I mean everyone, deserves a smile.

I'm overjoyed with growing with her and dreaming of what the next years will look like as she continues to grow and blossom, but it's so bittersweet because I know how much I'll miss these days, of her being my best little companion. Days when my craziness is the coolest thing ever in her eyes, after Barney and Tinkerbell, of course. Days when we pray for giraffes, because giraffes need our prayers, too, and days when we sing songs for absolutely everything. I'll miss 'just because' hugs and kisses, and a little girl who always wants her mama's company. I'll miss it all.

Despite how hard it is, moving on and letting go of baby stages that have come and gone and will never come again, I couldn't imagine life without all these scenes, without all these changes, without all these heartaches. Because as heart wrenching as it is to watch our baby grow and change right before our eyes, we would do it all over again, even if that meant having to let go one more time. That's how much their love is worth it.

Happy two, sweet pea. We love you more each passing day.

::

I build.

a tiny Marabelle and me.

I'm a builder.

I didn't know it before tonight, and even if my heart knew it, she kept it a secret, only to be disclosed on a night like tonight, when my ears would be gentle enough to listen. When my voice is the only one heard, when my husband is working late. When the sun's clocked out, on this side of the world. When my two little ones are sweetly resting underneath their blankets, one in her big girl bed, my boy nuzzled beside me, both beneath this shingled roof, directly below the stars. When I have time to spend attending to that which is mine. My heart waited for a night like tonight to share her secret.

Things have been challenging, partly because life likes to be difficult, partly because I like to be annoyingly rough on myself. It almost makes sense my heart chose to speak tonight, when I'm weary with an exhausted and sick spirit, it's as if she waited for my guard to be down. She waited for the moment when she knew I wouldn't have the energy or the will to fight back.

As I lay here, recollecting myself from my day spent wiping noses and changing diapers, singing songs that make absolutely no sense, kissing ow-ies and making them all better, cleaning up leaky sippy cups and messy floors, folding laundry multiple times after little hands let themselves in, and addressing the mound of dishes that seems to be never-ending, you can't help but hope and pray that it's all seen, someway, somehow.

Not by facebook, or twitter, or instagram, or whatever else. But seen, really seen.

And it's then when she spoke. This soft heart of mine, she spoke. "You're a builder. You build," she said.

After listening and reading some seriously touching perspectives, including Nicole Johnson's insightful imagery shared here, I started to see.

As a mother, so much of our work, our days, our struggles, our triumphs, our love, goes unseen. Especially by the one person who desperately wants to see it the most, ourselves. We often ask ourselves questions related to these, "Where did this day go?" or "What did I accomplish today?" All the while, our hearts are waiting for a quiet moment to whisper, "You built, woman. You built."

We build castles, cathedrals, temples, palaces. We build fortresses that take years, sometimes centuries to complete. We build beautiful dwelling places, ones where blood, sweat, and tears accent the mortar. Sometimes we build because we have to, and other times because we really, truly want to. But even when we feel the worst about our efforts or ourselves, we still build.

We may not be around to see the finished product, to stand before the completed castle and stare with awe-struck wonder at all that came to be, but I hope it's a warm place, with stained glass, and plenty of windows. 

I hope it's the kind of warm where cozy consumes you. I hope there's plenty of stained glass to show how perfectly the light of the sun uniquely sparkles when it bounces off of different hues. I hope there are windows, so many windows, enough windows to remind all those who dwell there, to venture, to reach, to step out. And I hope they feel love, not just a broken love from this imperfect heart of mine, but the love of God who's the only other one who would have seen the entire build, every single stone laid, from start to finish.

I can't promise I'll be easier on myself, or that I've miraculously seen the light and will never turn back or face another dark moment. But after being a mom for almost two years {cannot believe Marabelle's almost 2!} I can honestly say I can see a little more clearly than before. And I guess that's what building is all about. Having a clearer vision with every passing brick. Years go by and people will see a building but forget the builder. The castle will long outlive it's maker, so you hope the builder found purpose in her work through it all, and that she knew how worth it, all her hard work is, and will someday be. For little do I know that when I feel alone, I have His company, and every single second, tired or energized, defeated or determined, I build.

::

undeserving.

Two days will mark a month since our baby boy, Jude, has come out to play. So for those of you who were wondering....he's here. And I think big sister has finally figured out, not only is he here, but he's here to stay. ;)

When I think back on this past month, a little part of me is upset I haven't written sooner, but a bigger part of me is extremely glad that I just took it easy and laid low for a while, simply enjoying time together as a family, just the four of us. There's been lots of adjustments and even more time juggling. There's been numerous times when we've figured things out while bravely chugging along. And there's been even more moments, thanks to the Mr., when we just drop everything and we hug it out...yes, we hug it out...never underestimate the power of a hug on an exhausted soul. Never.

When I think back on this past month, I see the differences in myself as a second-time mom. I'll never forget the moment my parents went home after visiting us in Tallahassee when Marabelle was born...we felt so overwhelmed and unqualified - who signed the permission slip certifying we were capable of caring for this precious new baby on our own? And were they out of their mind??? As a new mom, the most important thing to learn is the value of trusting yourself and your own natural, God-given, motherly instincts, but that's not always easy to do when you're anxious, or tired, or too busy worrying about almost everything. But one night, while daddy was working and big sister was sleeping, baby boy and I had a moment to ourselves and I realized how precious the chaos is and just as we got through and survived Marabelle's first few months, we will make it through these long sleepless nights, too, and we will begin to trust ourselves even more as we learn how to tread in these new "family of four" waters. 

But one of the best things about thinking back on this past month, is seeing a young mom looking back at her two babies sitting in their car seats, and thinking to herself, how lucky she is, how blessed she is, and how undeserving she is. Yes, for those of you who were wondering, there have been moments in the past month when I've thought to myself, how am I going to do this when Joseph goes back to work? Am I seriously going to survive? But as I fight the urge to pull out all of my hair when tough moments hit hard, that heavy, emotional, earthshaking feeling sets in and I realize just how undeserving I am because as hard as the hardest days are, this is what we're made for and I wouldn't trade the chaos for anything in the world.

Nothing I've done is deserving of the most loving husband and the gift of caring for these two innocent souls. Nothing. And it's incredibly humbling realizing just how undeserving we are and how even the most challenging times are some of the most beautiful. Thank you, God, for our family and these two beautiful babies...thank you, thank you, Lord.

♡These last two are from Jude's newborn pictures, taken by our good friend, Jackie.

::

seventeen & eighteen.

She's eighteen months.

She's brought us joy, a joy like we've never know, for a year and a half.
After each other, she's the most serious relationship we've both ever had.
She introduced us to a love, 18 months ago, a love we could have never imagined.

Months 17 and 18 of hers have been full, full of activity, full of love.
This mama has been nesting and preparing for our family of 3 to meet its newest member and with end of summer activities and all that comes with preparing for new littles, our days have been full.

These past two months, in particular, have truly been something else for her.
Her vocabulary has almost doubled and she's learning something new every single day. It's the most incredible thing to watch. To witness a tiny person, a small child who has you completely smitten, discover her world for the first time and begin to connect the dots of understanding is like celebrating triumph after triumph, day after day. And watching her experience all of it, leaves you in awe at the beauty and wonder by which we are all created.

For 18 months, she's been our world.
And the three of us have had some pretty sweet adventures.
But sometime soon, within the next two weeks, a new little person will join our crew.
But before he shows up to play, I want this sweet 18 month old to know a few things...

I want her to know she's changed me, forever. I want her to know she's changed her daddy, too. I'm no longer the only woman he's completely captivated by. I want her to know I'll always cherish all of our "new" moments in the past 18 months, when mama was learning the ropes for the first time. I want her to know I've had so much fun being her best little friend and playmate and I will always, always, always remember our days spent alone together.

But I also want this 18 month old to know, she is going to be the best big sister. Yes, her baby brother will be crashing our daily dance parties but he will only add to the fun. He may get under her skin some days, but brothers are one of the best blessings the good Lord could give a sister...trust mama, I know. He will surprise you with the size of his love and he will teach you that your heart has no limits, especially when you love him despite his "little brother" tendencies that are sure to come with time.

Sweet pea,
You came into our world and brought a shimmer and shine that make even the stars jealous.
And soon, very soon, all of our worlds are about to get a little brighter.
Here's to 18 months and all that's yet to come.
Here's to radiating an even greater sparkle.

::

a mother's prayer.

oh Lord,

this prayer is for them, the little hearts you've blessed me with. 

the ones who challenge me, the ones who bless me, the ones who bring me to my knees in prayer. 

it's for them, their hearts, their lives, their purpose, their generation. 

it's for the world they will begin to know. 

may they always make time to run through the rain. 

may they laugh until it hurts. 

may they love without fear of rejection.

may they stand up for truth in the face of persecution. 

may they experience the strength of your love. 

and most of all, may they know you deeply. 

not a God they'd like you to be, or one whom others perceive you to be, 

but the God of love, mercy, and peace that breathed them into life. 

may You be the one they turn to, may you be the one they trust, may you be the one they know will never abandon them.

and may you protect them in your perfect care. 

from my heart to yours, oh God. 

amen. 

♥ me with rosary in hand on the day of our wedding, picture courtesy of Tina Bass

::

to my son.

To my son,

This is us now, tonight, 26 weeks along. We're pretty cute together, if I do say so myself.

I don't normally write on the weekends but your big sister is sleeping and your dad's visiting family, and since it's just you and me tonight, I thought I'd write a little letter to you.

I think you should know, I love our date nights. And in case you didn't know, every night is a date night while you're within me and really, you're a perfect date. You make me smile, you make me laugh, and you jump around with excitement whenever I eat ice cream.

I hope you don't mind that I'll be your very first love, as flawed and imperfect as I am, and as fragile and broken as I am. But I pinky promise you, I will always hold your heart in mine, as dependable as the sun is, rising in the morning, so is my love for you, for I love you always, all the days of your life and mine, and for all eternity thereafter.

And for anyone who's ever questioned the validity of your sweet, precious in utero life...feeling you kick, nudge, and wiggle around within me, already knowing your schedule, and recognizing the difference between you and your sister's belly movements and how you each are uniquely different, even in the womb, confirms all the beauty of life at it's earliest stages...and what an honor it is to keep you safe and protected within me.

So, here's to the remaining two and half months of back-to-back ice cream date nights with my littlest man, I can't wait to kiss your sweet face.

 ♥  mama

::

just one.

Exactly a year ago, tonight, I experienced one of the most emotional nights of my life. I was 41 weeks pregnant and extremely anxious to give birth to our sweet daughter. Just like any good woman would, she made us wait for her. I stayed up all night crying, praying, begging, pleading, "...if I can have just one prayer answered tonight, please God, bring Marabelle into this world safely and if possible, soon and very soon." I just wanted to meet her, hold her, kiss her, protect her, and love her as best I could. I wanted to meet our sweet princess who's sparkle would reflect joy in ways we could never imagine.

Like any emotional mama, this week I've been busy driving down memory lane like a madwoman in denial that our baby girl is actually turning one on Friday. But after driving past all of the sweet hot spots, I realized so much could be said about just one year. Everyone tells you when you're about to become parents how your heart is about to explode with love like you've never imagined, and even if you can wrap your head around that concept, there's nothing like experiencing love's mega blast that happens when you hold your baby for the first time. Dynamite's got nothing on the explosive power of baby love, and when I say nothing, I mean nothing.

I'm filled with gratitude when I think back on all we've experienced in our daughter's first year. Not all moments have been easy, but even the most trying times were filled with grace. As a new mama, there were challenges I could have handled better, times when I let frustration win, times that I'm not proud of, and then there were those magical moments when I pleasantly surprised myself with how much and how strong I could fight for and protect someone, simply by loving them well.

In so many ways, it feels like this past year has sprinted past us but in just as many ways, its hard to imagine our life before her. With just one soft touch, with just one innocent coo, with just one contagious smile, with just one magnetic giggle, with just one sweet kiss, with just one beautiful little life, the world is forever changed. And with her determined spirit, her infectious joy, her piercing eyes, her outspoken nature, and her caring awareness, I trust God has big plans for this beautiful soul He's blessed us with nurturing.

Marabelle, sweet pea, before we ever met you, we knew we'd rock it out with you by our sides. Little did we know, how much just one year with you, would rock our worlds with love. And even though BabyCenter keeps telling us that your baby days are over and your toddler days have begun, you will always be our baby girl. Always.

♡These are some of my favorites from her first birthday shoot, taken by our good friend, Jackie. 

And the adorable flags in the background were made by Pretty Paper Parfait.

How yummy is this little princess? 

::

ten and eleven.

Apparently, my little MacBook from 2006 is getting old and wrinkly. With it's aging status, my hard drive space is significantly diminishing and the few pictures I actually do have {since I'm not the best mama at clicking the camera every 5 minutes or even at every monumental milestone} seem to be frozen in this restricted land, as if they are stuck in time, and my computer is making it almost impossible for me to access any of my pictures...frustrating? Hmm, yeah.

But somehow-someway-thank goodness, I was able to access a few pictures from her tenth and eleventh months and since I haven't written about these sweet months of baby girl's, I thought I should pay them homage before her big 12 month birthday roles around in a few weeks. Here are some of my favorite things about months 10 and 11...

♥ "mama" and "dada" being used on a daily basis, ♥ a first flight and a first snow in our nation's capital, ♥ receiving intentional kissies, when we request them and even sometimes just for fun,  ♥ little baby Indian imitations, ♥ almost, really close, take a few steps and fall walking,  ♥ finally being able to decorate a nursery for baby girl {pics coming soon, hopefully!}, ♥ baby girl consistently sleeping through the night, ♥ giving sushi {cucumber rolls} her small stamp of approval, ♥ lots of high-fives and little clapping hands, ♥ learning that a baby with glow sticks and a smile make an awesome wedding reception accessory, ♥ baby gestures of "hi's" and "bye's,"  ♥ feeding herself and attempting to use the spoon like a big little girl, ♥ and the continued discovery of the personality and soul behind those beautiful brown eyes of hers. 

It's incredible how even at a whopping age of 10 & 11 months, she is fully capable of knowing what she likes and rejecting what she doesn't. Just like her mama, she can be a little stubborn as she enables her free will and chooses to do/not do things in her own little way. But most remarkable, is her ability to show love and joy and sprinkle them to everyone she meets, everywhere she goes. It's really a crazy beautiful thing to witness and be a part of. So, thank you, months ten and eleven, your memories are some of the best yet.

P.S. Marabelle was born on Ash Wednesday of last year and it's Ash Wednesday today, so Happy Liturgical Birthday, baby girl! This year we can make it to Church. +;)

::

mexico.

Someone told Sara Bareilles that dreams live in Mexico. I guess I can see that. 

But for some reason, I don't think my dreams live in Mexico. I don't think my dreams have a permanent address. Scratch that, they do. They have their own place. They pay rent, utilities, water, and they even cut the grass after it rains. But they like to leave, they like to go, they like to get out. And then, with a souvenir, a lesson, or a picture, they come home.

My dreams are frequent flyers. They are madly in love with airports. They fly just so they can write at 30,000 feet. They're more motivated there. And so, they board planes as often as they can, they sit in window seats, they stare out into the sky, they reach out and touch the clouds. They get tattoos and don't care who objects, they have perfect hair, they have all the time in the world to get ready, and they exercise often. They dance and sing all day long. They're never scared. They crave big cities and all their mystery, but secretly long for the dependability of a wide open field in a small town.

My dreams play the piano. They hit one key, wait, and hit another one, one that's farthest from the first. My dreams string the first key together with the second, as if they belonged together, as if they were created to be played, together. 

My dreams get the whole truth and nothing but the truth. They don't have to worry about making sense out of two different sides, both with supporting evidence, compelling research, and fancy letters crediting their names. They ask a question and the answer is theirs. 

My dreams own a smoothie shop and make smoothies all day long. They hand out love letters and give two to disbelievers. They make amends with people from their past, ones they let go of after holding on for a long time. They speak out, they are strong, they are healthy {I guess the smoothies help with that part}, and they are constantly growing. 

After my last post on the magic of dreams, I hope you don't mind this continued dream rambling of mine but as I began to write tonight, I caught myself staring off into space, my head rested on my hand like this...which if you ask Joseph, is pretty typical for me. And while staring at one of baby girl's toys that creepily sings whenever the room is completely quiet, I realized that we're flying this weekend and I suddenly got really excited. There's something about airports, I guess you can say they live in my dreams. Well, baby girl's never flown before, so we'll see if she likes soaring through the clouds as much as her mama does.

I think my love of flying was born when I was sixteen and flying to New York for the first time. I had a paper due for AP English that I decided to write on the plane. I still think that essay is one of the best things I've ever written. I only wish I knew where it was hiding. I'm not sure if it was the actual writing itself that I'd categorize as some of my best, but rather, it's impact was incredibly unforgettable. It resonated confidence by redefining purpose, so much so, I wish I could have mass produced it's shimmer, only until I realized it's sparkle was due to it's rarity, and well, mass producing that sort of gem would only devalue it's worth. Impacts like these are hard to come by. The way my sixteen year old self felt when I clicked, "save," and closed my laptop, was like I could do anything, be anything, dream anything, or accomplish anything, as long as it was written within me. I felt creative. I felt capable. I felt worthy. I felt alive. It's that feeling that resonates within my dreams. And I don't know about yours, but as I alluded to above, my dreams seem to have similar habits, they tend to dress alike, and they like to hang out in the same hot spots.

Although we're not going to Mexico this weekend, we are flying, and that means if baby girl grants me a quiet second, I will probably meet my dreams somewhere in the clouds, think with them, pray with them, and catch them at some of their favorite surroundings. Maybe I'll get lucky and I'll write with them on the plane, like I did my junior year of high school, but my mama self knows that's probably a little unrealistic with a 10 month-old wiggle worm sitting on my lap. But one thing my mama self's got that my sweet sixteen status lacked, is a little one tugging at her leg asking mama to show her the way. Maybe, on one of baby girl's next plane trips, we'll stare out the window and talk about her dreams and what they look like and where they live. Maybe, her dreams will wear princess pajamas and mismatched socks and camp in forts made out of pillowcases and towels. Maybe, hers will wear ribbons in their hair and eat cereal for dinner. Maybe, hers will be even more random than mine. And maybe, just maybe, her dreams will live in Mexico. But on the off chance they don't, my dreams have first class tickets to wherever hers are.
::

a sweet second and one brief minute.

With updating our new home and getting ready for Christmas, our days have been packed, our time management skills have been tested, and our lives have been slightly hectic. Needless to say, baby girl's nine month birthday came and went last week. Nine months is a really fun age for her first Christmas, especially since she enjoys ripping up paper. I'm sure she'll love playing with all the tissue and wrapping paper she'll get...{oh wait}...you mean there's more to that gift? ;)

But her ninth month has also been really active for baby girl. She's always a wiggle worm, never wanting to stay still, and constantly wanting to be on the go. Well, with her walking along coffee tables, couches, chairs, and anything else she can get her hands on...she's going somewhere fast - opposite of when she was a newborn, when she was perfectly content with sitting still while resting on me. But with her now being so active, there hasn't been as much cuddle time lately...sad face for mama bear.

Surprisingly though, a couple days ago I was blessed with a sweet second. Baby girl had just woken up from her afternoon nap and her sleepy, calm, still-waking-up self was in the mood for some mama baby cuddle time. The room was quiet, the computer was off, my phone wasn't important, and all that mattered was her resting with me. That little head on my shoulder slowly lifted and wanted to be awake, but rather than abruptly crawling off to conquer the world, she decided to take one brief minute to spend with mommy, playing with mommy, laughing with mommy. Literally, 60 seconds later, her afternoon adventure was calling and she was ready to answer.

It may not seem like much, it may even seem a little silly, and not necessarily noteworthy, but the stillness of that sweet second and one brief minute painted a memory in my heart that I pray will last forever.

Time is a highly desirable entity. Many of us pray for more time, although, there are some instances when we wish away the hours while waiting for someday, something, or someone to arrive. But even while we're waiting, time's desirable quality stays consistent, making time undoubtedly precious. 

The days, feelings, hopes, memories, events, and emotions all leading up to Christmas all seem to quickly come and go. For me and mine, I'm praying for millions of sweet seconds and brief minutes full of peace, laughter, and love this Christmas Season. And because you all mean so much to me, I'm praying the same for you and yours.

::

patient for patience.

Our first Tea Room giveaway winner is announced! Click here to see if you've won. 

Last week, baby girl turned 8 months. And much like the first aggressive 'baby on a mission' picture below preciously depicts, 8 months has been one of our most challenging months thus far. My mama self has really felt the demands of this super rewarding job. I always thought I was a woman with very little patience, but after looking back at all the ups & downs we've gone through lately with sweet baby girl's innocent needs, I hope to say I, now, have a small idea of what patience looks like.

In one of it's wise ways, patience is realizing how precious time really is and recognizing that certain thoughts of wanting a moment to pass or quicken, can be selfish if you're not taking into consideration the needs, circumstances, or situation of yourself or the other. Many of us are always in a rush, wanting frustrating moments to quickly pass, or not wanting to be "put out" or effected by someone else's sidetracking situation. Well, If I didn't realize it before now, 8 months has taught me to get over myself. Being a mom is not easy but being a mom really isn't about me, is it?

Love is a selfless gift, an unconditional devotion, a sacrifice offered while not expecting anything in return. As beautiful as the faithfulness of true love is, it's sometimes hard to pursue, truly. Our stubbornness can get in the the way of love and halt us from appreciating where we are and where the ones we love currently are, right now, in this moment. Love's location isn't where we wish to be or wish other people to be, love is in the exact place we are and present where the ones we love are...and to love someone in that way, exactly where they are, while not expecting them to be any different or better than they are right now, is the way everyone deserves to be loved - and this love requires every ounce of patience we can scrounge up within ourselves.

So, for those of us trying to be a little more patient, for those of us wanting to get where we're going, and for those of us wanting someone else to be where we desire them to be...we have to be just as patient with ourselves as we hope to be with others, we have to recognize life is too short not to try to have a little more patience, and we must be patient for patience as it makes it's way into our hard-headed hearts.

::

big girl remedies.

The past couple of days have been a little rough with a growing baby girl who is trying out a new sleep/nap schedule while giving all awake hours a run for their money, along with tasting lots of new foods that are hoping to make it on the weekly baby menu, and not to mention, experiencing tons of growing pains {what's an adjustment period without a tooth or two showing up and crashing the party with their as always, grand entrance}.

Well, with baby girl needing lots & lots of mama, I take advantage of small "me" moments to help rejuvenate my conquered self. Some recent remedies yielding lovely little pick-me-up sentiments include chocolate in any yummy form, brief moments of silence, big deep breaths, bear hugs from the nearest warm body, pleasantly hot tea with spiraling honey swirls, and perfectly emo playlists that make feeling down or overwhelmed feel, 'oh, so good.' 

These big girl remedies may provide mama a breath of fresh air and a tranquil moment among the chaos, but none of them relieve the symptoms of a tired and worn spirit as much as the recognition that the race is being run for a purpose...and knowing that my sometimes draining efforts to help sweet baby girl grow to become a bright-eyed big girl is, ironically, the best big girl remedy of all. 

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rest assured.

We're back from our family road trip and unfortunately, we didn't run into any baby bucket swing relatives but all of us, including baby girl, somehow managed to get sick.

And whenever we're sick, we love playing any of the whiny - "I don't feel well," "hold me, please," and "I just want to sleep" cards. So, what happens when everyone in the family feels entitled to play any or all of these needy cards at the same exact time? We throw a welcoming pity party and delegate sleep shifts, soup shifts, cuddle shifts, tea shifts, and even more sleep shifts. Welcome to our sick world...what can I say?

Since baby girl's sleep shifts have required mama's company, (please, don't leave mom - I sleep better when you're near), I've had lots of extra thinking time about life, writing, and this little blog of mine. Like I've mentioned a few times - I've really come to love this blog and to all of you who have reached out in your own special ways to make it a point to let me know how much you love reading - your enthusiasm for my writing makes me want to write more, more, and even more. So, as always, thank you for keeping me company along this writing journey of mine. Rest assured, your company is the kind that I feel safe enough to throw on my favorite sweat pants, put on my glasses, tie my hair back, snuggle up on the couch and just write it out...which, in this commonly superficial world frequently lacking authenticity...me feeling encouraged to write and just be me, is a huge gift you all have given me and I will always, always, always thank you for that.

With that said, I will continue to write here because of how much Marie Tea has meant, not only to you but to me, but there may be less frequent posts {in the next few weeks}, as I aggressively work on finishing up my first book. Rest assured, it's not because I'm not writing, but it's actually because that's exactly what I'm doing...writing. As much as blogging has been incredibly enjoyable, I also have to be faithful to my lifelong book writing dreams...because like I've mentioned here a few times, if we're not faithful to our dreams, who will be?

So, rest assured, I will continue to write blog posts and share parts of my heart here with you, just like I've done from the very beginning. I only ask you to be patient with the frequency of my next few posts. I have a baby girl and a dream and neither one of them are getting any younger...so that means I've gotta chase them both now, while I still can.

Have a great weekend - I'm sure ours will look something like this.

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thank you, baby girl.

Just wanted to take a little minute, while you're sleeping, to say thank you to my most cutest bestest little friend, baby girl.

Thank you for standing up in your crib - it makes me have to check on you more often and gives me more excuses to peak in on your pretty little face. Thank you for having a head full of brown hair - I'm able to have fun accessorizing you with bright bows. Thank you for crawling everywhere in record speed - you keep me on my toes and teach me that every second matters. Thank you for getting excited with your newest toys - you remind me of the joy that exists in learning something new. Thank you for giggling when I tickle your toes and make raspberries on your cheek - I would do anything just to hear your little giggle. Thank you for smiling at me and reaching out for me to pick you up - I'm pretty sure that's your way of saying, "I love you." And thank you for always giving me a new reason to say thank you - because these few reasons don't even scratch the surface of all my thankfulness for you.

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walk it out.

It's been one of those weeks. A week of weakness - that is, weakness defined by my own superfluous standards. I've been preoccupied losing multiple things, excessively tired wanting to sleep all day long, and for simplicity's sake - just blah and totally out of it. And to add some extra sprinkles to the little Debbie Downer cupcake I'm stuffing down my throat...I miss my Autumn leaves, tremendously. Does Fall even come to the beach? Gosh, I hope so - it's my absolute favorite season. I guess we'll find out soon. {Totally praying for some golden auburn leaves to magically blow my way.}

Like I always say to people when you can't undo what's done...don't cry over spilled milk. Ok, so maybe that's a little harsh. I guess I should be more sensitive. Well, what's a girl supposed to do when she's all in a funk about her totally-out-there funky-feeling self? Umm...walk it out, of course! Baby style. :) So, baby girl and I ventured out into the suburban terrain that is the block. Yep, we said the heck with everything bothering mommy and we walked it out. Not entirely sure if that's the kind of "walk" Unk referred to when he coined the hip-hop term, but I think we made the block smile - and even if we didn't, baby girl seemed to enjoy the stroll down asphalt way, mommy got a chance to breathe and get a little exercise, and the stroller finally ditched the trunk and experienced the light of day. Never did I think I could walk it out better than that one time in college. Who knew?

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mm, mmm, good?

Baby girl experienced something new this week - a yummy green & yellow, soft & smushy avocado. Did she like it? I'm pretty sure the answer's "yes," but her jury took some process time before they established that the little avocado was pretty cool after all. 

Watching her try it made me think of a dear group of girls who all just started college. One of them, whom I deeply admire and care for, (oh how I wish I had her maturity when I was a college-bound freshman!) called to share her experience thus far. And with any new adventure, some adjustment time is required. As baby girl tried the avocado, it wasn't initially clear if she enjoyed the newness of the fun fruit, but she gave it a chance. Once her face was covered in green, she figured out that it was better than her first bite of - "what the heck is this" - "never had this before" -  and "not sure if I like it," conveyed.

Starting college and introducing baby solids both encourage growth. So, to anyone experiencing something new for the sake of growth or betterment, just give it a shot and allow yourself some time to become acclimated. It might seem foreign initially, but maybe with some perseverance and patience, it might turn out to be mm, mmm, good & much better than your first bite suggested.

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on call.

"I work 24 hours a day. I am a Mom. 

I am an alarm clock, a cook, a maid, a teacher, a nanny, a nurse, a taxi, a security officer, a photographer, a counselor, a jungle gym, and a comforter. 

I don't get holidays, sick pay or days off. 

I work through the night. 

I am on call all hours and get paid with hugs & kisses. ♥"

I saw this on Facebook last week and thought I'd re-post it. It's undeniably true.

I'm not gonna lie though, I sometimes dream about what I could be doing (career wise) and think of all the jobs I could potentially have and sometimes fantasize about them. But then I hear a squeal, a giggle, or see baby girl smile and realize nothing could compare to being on call for her. It's a sacrifice for sure, of time and finances, but it's the choice we chose.

So, when I think of all I could be doing, it's nice to remember all the jobs  
I currently hold as "mama of baby girl" and how there's
no place else I'd rather be than right here with her. 

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pretty darn beautiful.

Listening to Name by the Goo Goo Dolls when I noticed the verse - "Scars are souvenirs you never lose," and I started thinking about my most recent physical scars. Let's be real. If you're a mom or soon-to-be-mom, you may notice your body doesn't look exactly like it used to. Unless of course you are the exception to the rule that every woman secretly envies and your body returned perfectly to it's original state - girl, you defy gravity (on more than one level!) But even if you're a woman thinking about future motherhood, you may realize your body could eventually change. This reality is like a large pill, difficult to swallow, especially when none of your clothes fit you the same and the image in the mirror isn't the reflection you're used to seeing, but it's not any less attractive, nor is it the end of the world. For real.

I'm not saying we shouldn't exercise or stay fit, but your mom body doesn't mean you are any less gorgeous than the you before any noticeable or less obvious changes. There are SO many products and surgeries aimed at getting moms back to their pre-mom self. Why? And please do not say "for my man." Because if he, at any point, makes you feel fat, or scarred, or less appealing, or not sexy, or boring - from the bottom of my heart, I'd like to punch him...hard. Just stop to think about the little person who has the most personal contact with you. They never knew your pre-mom self, in fact, the body with stretch marks and all the other fun motherhood side-effects is the ONLY body of yours they know and love. All I have to say is if we are capable of receiving little heart melting grins like these, then mama bodies must be pretty darn beautiful.

:: victoria marie

available.

Baby girl's needed a lot of extra love lately, teething is no fun. We wish we could take her pain away, but realize it's all part of life. Sometimes growing and changing, even when for the best, can still sting a little.

Reality check for us - this is the first of tough aches and pains, bruises and bumps, growth spurts and stretches for this beautiful baby girl. Not exciting. As precious as she looks with her pouty face, her hurting isn't cute. We can't control her pain or make it stop, we can only be there for her - available to hold her extra tight, kiss her all-the-more, and cuddle her to sleep...but that's pretty much where the buck stops.

My mom may remember my first heartbreak as vividly as I do. She hated that I felt so broken, but she did the little she could to ensure I knew she was there. Although it may not have been much, knowing she was available for girls night out or a trip to the mall made all the difference.

Granted, baby girl's not sixteen with a broken heart, but she is hurting in her own little way and there's not much we can do but be available, with all the extra love we have to give.

Here's to being available for the people we love, family & friends. Because the peace for baby girl tonight was knowing we were there, right by her side. Sometimes the comfort in pain is simply knowing someone is there, someone is listening, and someone is available.

:: victoria marie