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Baby "Brudder"!!!! As you can see from the video above (that we posted to social media last night), we're having a boy and we're over the moon ;)

Ben has been saying all along that he'd love another girl, buuuuttt if we were having another girl, he'd want to try for *one more* (eek! Hard to imagine right now!), so it's nice to know that if we feel done after this child, we'll have one of each and won't ever have to wonder what it would be like to have a boy. 

We have a front-runner for a name but will definitely be keeping that info to ourselves until he's born ;) Thanks for all of your excitement for us! So many of you have messaged me saying you're done having kids but are living vicariously through other pregnant people (I get it!), so it's been really fun seeing all of your guesses at what we're having and your joy for us. 

And from what all of you are saying about boys, it sounds like we're in for quite the wild ride! I'm just holding out hope that this will be our "go with the flow," sleep-anywhere child, because as you know by now, Charlie Mae is NOT (haha!). 

I've been pretty nervous about sharing this news with all of you; I'm obviously over the moon to be pregnant again (and out of the First Trimester!), but after my recent pregnancy loss, telling "the world" about this pregnancy felt really scary.

Every time I imagined "announcing" that I was pregnant again, I then imagined suffering another loss right afterward and having to face the sadness of that loss "publicly" when I wasn't yet ready to do so. 

I also thought about all of the incredibly strong women who reached out to me to share their pregnancy loss stories when I shared mine. I thought of the women who are still trying to get pregnant again and I couldn't help but worry that my sharing this news wouldn't help, but instead, would hurt, or re-open old (or still very fresh) wounds. 

If you're one of those women and you're reading this, I sincerely hope that this post doesn't make you feel worse, but that it gives you hope instead. After losing our baby I wanted to jump back into the saddle (haha) and try again as soon as possible because I knew that getting pregnant would help me heal--and it has. But I know that not everyone feels this same way and that it can also take a while to get pregnant again, so it's not always such a simple decision.

I feel very grateful that we were able to get pregnant again quickly and am sending SO much love to those of you who are currently trying or who've had to wait longer than you'd hoped. It's a very intense process to re-enter no matter how much time has passed since your loss and can obviously be way more intense if it's harder for you to conceive. 

There are no words, really. I just hope this post doesn't do more harm than good. 

And despite all of my worries about putting this news out into the world, the fact is that we're really excited about growing our family and want to share this joy with others. I'm trying to move past all of my anxieties about something going wrong and instead of dwelling on my fears about all of the the worst case scenarios, live in the moment and experience the excitement of being pregnant again. Especially after such a devastating loss. 

So, all of that being said, YES, I'm pregnant again!!! I'm a little over 14 weeks and I finally felt ready to share this news for a few reasons:

1. Ben is HORRIBLE at secrets and asks me every. single. day. if we can "announce" yet. He finally wore me down (haha).
   
   
2. Charlie Mae has been telling people that she has a baby in her belly so it's getting awkward not being able to explain where that came from...
   
   
3. This being my second (well, third) pregnancy, I'm showing much earlier than I did the first time and by the end of the day (read: when I'm teaching yoga at night) my core muscles have relaxed, my belly is full, my uterus is relaxed, and I look like I either ate WAYYY too many Christmas cookies (which I did) or I'm pregnant, and I'm starting to feel self-conscious about it. I only have so many baggy yoga tops, ya know!?!?

Thus, here we are. I'm due July 14th and we can't wait (but actually we can because we have a lot to do before then + two kids = OMG!). 

We *are* going to find out what we're having and should know around 18-19 weeks. We haven't decided if we're going to share that publicly yet or not, but if Ben and Charlie Mae have anything to do with it, we probably will ;) 

Thanks for all of your support over the past 6 months of loss and now, excitement.

On two separate occasions at the end of 2018 I saw big, bold, gorgeous double-rainbows that made me feel very hopeful about this pregnancy and this year. Let's hope that those rainbows were signs that 2019 is going to be full of rainbow babies for all of us who suffered a loss in 2018. 

[Oh, and a note about the pic above: I'm *sure* you know this by now but in case you don't, Ben is OBSESSED with basketball. He has a bball training side-hustle and basically eats, sleeps, + dreams basketball. He's had a "vision" for this picture since the day we found out I was pregnant again and although I am not as into basketball as he is (understatement of the year, haha), I couldn't take that vision away from him. So yay for you, Ben!]

If there's one lesson in parenting that life continues to hit me over the head with, it's this: your expectations are always wrong (yes, I have written about this subject before). Nothing big will ever go as planned--at least not when your child is involved.

You think an event is going to be hard for your kid? You're wrong, it ends up being easy! You think something's going to be a piece of cake? Surprise, IT'S GOING TO BE THE WORST THING YOU'VE EVER DONE. You're not sure what will happen but are hoping for the best? Life will throw you a curveball that you never saw coming and you'll get hit right in the noggin.

And here's the other thing: even when you know that nothing will ever go as planned or as hoped, you, the parent, are still royally disappointed when they don't because--despite the odds--you held onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, they would work out as imagined in your dreams *just this once.* 

Take my brother Patrick's wedding this past weekend as an example:

Months ago, Patrick and his now-wife Caitlin asked Charlie Mae to be their flower girl. We all had adorable visions of her walking nervously down the aisle in her little white dress, dropping flowers as she went. We all know that she hates strangers, crowds, and people looking at her, but we thought that if we got her amped up enough and she understood the logistics--that her dad would be walking her down the aisle and I would be at the end of the aisle (where I would be serving as a "groomswoman") to greet her--she could do it. 

So, in the months leading up to their wedding we [read: I] searched for and bought her the perfect flower girl dress for the wedding, pink shoes with bows on them, pink tights, and a little floral crown for her head. She got her first haircut so that it would look a little cleaner for the wedding, and we talked up her job and "practiced" walking around the house in her outfit. She was pumped and excited. So was I. 

On the day before the wedding, we opted to skip her afternoon nap so that she could go to the venue for the rehearsal and practice her role. We wanted her to be as comfortable as possible with the space and the people in the wedding party. She had fun at the venue and afterward, kept asking when we would go to the wedding. She was ready. 

On the big day, I left Ben, Charlie Mae, and Ben's mom (who we brought along as our "babysitter" so that we could enjoy the wedding weekend--game changer!) around 11am to go join the bridesmaids for hair, makeup, pictures, etc. I wouldn't see Charlie Mae again until she showed up for pictures, all dressed up. That made me anxious but I did my best to let go. 

I got news via text that she didn't sleep during her usual nap time, so was prepared for a tired toddler at the 5:30pm wedding. But when she arrived for pictures she was in good spirits and seemed excited, so I got my hopes up again. She was ADORABLE in her outfit and besides being totally against taking any pictures with me (argh...see pic above), I felt like she was going to do a good job as flower girl. 

After pictures, I separated from them again to go be a part of the bridesmaid crew and prepare for the ceremony. As we were touching-up our make-up I got a text from Ben: "We need you down here NOW. Charlie Mae is having a meltdown." I ran to the elevator and made my way down. When I got to the lobby, I was greeted by a red-faced, snot-covered toddler who was wailing at the top of her lungs. The breakdown was happening and the ceremony was 10 mins from starting. 

Charlie Mae--ever sensitive to men and people she doesn't know--had been scared by a couple of people getting too close to her and saying 'hello' right in her face. They didn't mean any harm, but the harm was done nonetheless. I wasn't there to protect her from people who made her "nervous" like I usually do and because of this, she was horrified. 

I took her in my arms as she wailed that she was "scared" and wanted to go home. I tried to comfort her. I took her to a corner where there was no one around and tried to get her to calm down but it wasn't happening. She was overtired and past the point of return. There was no recovering. As I tried once more to give her a pep talk and get her ready for the ceremony, I was called away because I had to walk down the aisle. I handed her, screaming, to Ben, and ran to my place in line. It was horrible. 

A few minutes later, I had taken my place at the altar with the rest of the wedding party and was waiting to see what would happen when it was Charlie Mae's turn to come out. 

When it was, Ben emerged from the back of the room, carrying a snotty (but for the moment, quiet) Charlie Mae on his chest, clinging to him tightly with a sad look on her face. He walked down the aisle with her in his arms and when she saw me, she reached for me. Not knowing what else to do and wanting to keep her quiet, I took her, while standing at the front of the room in front of all of the wedding attendees. 

But as soon as she was in my arms, she started whimpering loudly. I had to leave my spot and rush back over to Ben, who had just taken his seat, and hand her to him [crying, of course] while he rushed her out of the room and the bride walked down the aisle. 

I was crushed. I wanted to be present but I could hear her wailing far away. I hated that she [we] had been a distraction from the main event. I had to force myself to turn my attention back to the ceremony and stop obsessing over what had just happened--while knowing that my child was sobbing in a back room wanting me because she was scared. It was SO sad. 

In the end, Ben and his mom were able to calm her down (thanks, Elmo videos on YouTube!) and I was able to refocus on the BEAUTIFUL ceremony and be present for the special moment. I soaked it in and cried tears of joy as they recited their personalized vows. Ben drove his mom and Charlie Mae home and returned to the wedding. Everything was fine and obviously everyone understood, but I was left reeling. 

How could this have happened? How could I have prevented it? How could I have failed to get a SINGLE picture of her standing in her adorable outfit before the meltdown? Whyyyyyy??

But really, I know the reason: because when you're a parent (and really, when you're a human being in general), things don't go as planned. Because you expect one thing and then another thing happens. Because being a parent and a person and a sister and a bridesmaid/groomswoman all at once is probably going to lead to a little bit of craziness.

And I guess I'm at the point as a mother where I'm realizing that this is one of my biggest lessons to learn. I HAVE to learn to let go of my expectations. I HAVE to learn to go with the flow and let go. I have been working on these things all of my life but it's coming to the point where I have no choice but to learn these lessons or continue to feel confused, disappointed, and distracted when things go wrong. Which they will. Often. 

Fellow parents, are you with me? Please tell me I'm not the only one... 

I've always struggled with anxiety, but now that I'm a mom, I've become intimately acquainted with a new brand of anxiety--one that was programmed into my being when our ancestors were living in a dangerous world surrounded by predators, the elements, and poisonous plants--MamAnxiety. 

This kind of anxiety is a turbo anxiety; it's anxiety on steroids. It causes a mother's brain to imagine the worst case scenario in every possible situation, even the most mundane.

For instance, the other night I was walking out the door to teach my Wednesday night yoga class. I didn't lock the door behind me as I usually do, because Ben and Charlie Mae were playing a few feet from the front door in the room I had just exited.

But as I walked to the car, I started to imagine what would happen now that I didn't lock the door. Ben wouldn't think to lock it before taking Charlie Mae up to bed, and while they were reading together, someone would sneak into our house, tip-toe up the stairs, and kill them both.

So I went back and locked the front door.  

Here's another example: 

Our washing machine is broken (every mom's dream) and the repair person can't come for a few days. Last night, we had a load of wet laundry (that had been only half washed before our washer gave out) soaking in the bathtub. As soon as Charlie Mae got home and walked past the bathroom door, I saw what would occur if I didn't drain the water stat: she would head into the bathroom and uncharacteristically try to climb into the bathtub to see what was happening with those clothes. Of course while climbing, she would immediately fall and drown in the dirty laundry and sitting water. It was a nightmare waiting to happen. 

If you're a mother, I know these inner dialogues and scenarios are familiar to you. I know you've seen these visions, too, whether you see them as frequently as I do or not. They're necessary for our species' survival over time and we're programmed for them, but they definitely aren't fun. 

Every new mom that I've spoken to has had the vision of dropping her newborn down the stairs as she trudges, sleep-deprived, up and down them. I'm sure many mothers have imagined dropping a knife and accidentally stabbing a child, or tripping and flinging a child into a sharp object that immediately impales said child. 

It's pretty gruesome, but this is what happens in a mama's brain. Or, at least, in this anxious mama's brain. 

At times, I'm thankful for this MamAnxiety. I think it really does help me keep my daughter safe and think about what could happen before it happens [and thus, prevent it]. 

But at other times, I'm resentful that I have to go about life imagining so many horrible disasters around every turn. That my husband isn't plagued by these same visions, that he isn't always looking two steps ahead and trying to prevent something bad from taking place. 

Then I look at my daughter and am reminded that she is the most important thing in my life, and as humans, when we have something that we really love and value, it's only natural to do what we can to protect it.

So I hug her, and I repeatedly move her away from pointy corners of furniture, tighten her seatbelt straps, and wrap my hands around her waist when she stands up in the bathtub. And then I thank my lucky stars that I was given this role to play in life, even if it is one that has caused me more anxiety than ever before.  

PS. Obviously this pic was taken over a year ago (look at how short and wonderfully chubby CM was!!!), but I feel like it accurately represents what I'm talking about here. 

The image above was taken on August 12th, just over 2 months ago. I was 10 weeks along and felt like my belly had just started to pop; this being my 2nd pregnancy, my uterus knew what was up and had started to expand immediately. I was over the moon, feeling great, and excited to hear my baby's heartbeat at my 10 week appointment in just a few days.

Needless to say, I didn't ever hear my baby's heartbeat. What I didn't know when this picture was [excitedly] taken was that my baby's heart had already stopped beating. Our baby had stopped growing at 8 weeks, but was still nestled inside of my uterus while I--oblivious to this fact--snapped pictures meant to capture what I thought was my growing belly. 

Within a few days of this picture being taken, after the appointment where my midwife couldn't find the heartbeat with the doppler, after the excruciating 24 hours in which I waited for the ultrasound that would tell us what was happening inside my body, after the heartbreaking 10 minutes lying on a table in the dark, watching the ultrasound tech move her wand around my belly without saying a word--and knowing what her silence meant--we'd scheduled a D&C, a surgical procedure that would remove our deceased baby from my belly. 

It was horrible. It felt like a nightmare. I couldn't stop crying and I felt like it was my fault. All of the cliches about the emotions associated with pregnancy loss are cliches for a reason: I felt all of those things. 

While some women say that it wasn't helpful for them to hear how common pregnancy loss is, I found it very helpful. I took comfort in the statistics that 1 in 4 pregnancies end in loss. Not because I wanted this for other people, but because if it was extremely common, then maybe that didn't make it my fault. Maybe my baby really wasn't going to be able to survive in this world and that's why it stopped growing, not because I took an ibuprofen long before I knew I was pregnant, or demonstrated a deep twist in one of my classes when I was just a few weeks along.

And I took comfort in all of the female family members who called to tell me that this had happened to them in the past, too, in between child 1 and 2, or child 2 and 3. It gave me hope that I would be able to go on and have another healthy baby someday, too. 

The thing about pregnancy loss is that you're not just mourning the loss of this child that you were growing in your belly and are no longer going to get to meet, but you're also mourning the life plans that you had set up around this baby's impending arrival.

Ben and I had started planning what our maternity and paternity leaves would look like. We knew what the rough age difference between our two kids would be and imagined Charlie Mae having a playmate sooner rather than later. We had a hazy outline of how the beginning of 2019 would go; after all, if we were having a baby in March, that would change the year in a big way. 

But then in just 24 hours, we'd lost all of that "stability." We knew our plans weren't really stable in the first place, but we'd hoped that they could be and had talked things out because that's what you do. We'd done this before and it had gone smoothly (the pregnancy part, not the child birth or child raising part, ha!) so we had just gone ahead with our life, planning around this big event as if it would happen for us again. 

And then out of nowhere, it ended. And we had to deal with that. 

I will say that in my personal experience, I felt that our loss was made easier because we already have Charlie Mae. I was able to look at her and hug her and not only feel enormous gratitude that I already had a healthy, wonderful child, but also be reminded that my body had done this before and that hopefully, that means it can do it again. 

I was also acutely aware, during all of this, of just how difficult it must be to suffer multiple losses, one after another, while hoping for a child. Or to be someone who can't get pregnant at all and wants to. It's all so devastating and complicated and just plain sad. So much sadness.

But then you have to wake up and go on with your day: you get up early and get your child ready, you take her to the park, you respond to emails, you eat lunch, you teach a yoga class, you scroll through your phone, you go to the grocery store.

No one knows that you've just been dealt a big blow and you don't tell them because you don't want to talk about it, but you carry it around, feeling empty inside when you felt so full only one week ago. 

And then you keep waking up and going through your days and dealing with life and the sadness starts to fade. At one point you think, 'I won't be able to talk about this publicly for a long time' and then only a little while later, you realize that it's National Pregnancy + Infant Loss Awareness Month, and you see everyone else sharing their stories of loss and you're surprised to find that you're ready to talk about your loss, too. If nothing else than to tell that woman who is scrolling through her phone while in bed, recovering from a miscarriage or another loss, that she is not alone, that you understand, and that you're sorry. 

You're so, so sorry. 

We've all heard the saying "the days are long but the years are short," and while I get the sentiment (I really do!), I have to disagree. I think the days are short and the years are short--it's all so short and fast and it's just such a wild ride!

As we celebrated Charlie Mae's 2nd birthday this past weekend, I was floating somewhere between total amazement at my little kid (because she really seems like a little kid now!) and wondering where the heck my baby went. I don't want to spend Charlie Mae's childhood posting pictures of her looking grown up with the crying emoji (x10) beneath them, but I see why we do this because it is all so emotional and it feels so fleeting.

So, moving forward, I'm going to try my best to celebrate Charlie Mae's growth and who she is becoming as she gets older, instead of mourning the precious days that are already in the past. 

Thus, today's post is a celebration of the the celebration that we had for 2-year old Charlie Mae this past weekend. We loved setting aside some time to acknowledge who she is at this point in time: a fun, adorable, strong-willed, sweet, opinionated, sensitive, and funny little soul.

We kept her sheep-themed party small with just family this year (probably the last year we can get away with having just family!) and I tried my best to keep my decorating/themed-party urges in check so I wouldn't lose my mind getting ready for the simple get-together. Here are a few fun snapshots from the party!

(Oh, and I know the food tables look pretty lame in these pics, but I never got a chance to take pics once the feast was laid out ;) 

This girl = 100% down with the birthday hype now. She gets it. She was ALL IN on the presents, cake, ice cream, singing, and attention. She's already excited about the next family birthday party and the presents she's going to get on our trip to GA this week!

Which brings me to my next note: there will be no #SJOTW this Friday because we'll be in GA to celebrate my grandmother's 90th birthday (!!!!). We'll be back in town next week and I'll get back to it then.

Have a great week + a great Labor Day! 

Today is Charlie Mae's 2nd birthday! Our little nugget has been around the sun twice now. I can hardly believe it.

Obviously, this means that I had to interrupt my regular SJOTW programming to share some pics of our girlie + turn this week's edition of this column into a Charlie Mae-focused extravaganza ;)

So, here are some [mostly] Charlie Mae-centric simple, sensory joys from the past week + summer...

HEAR: Charlie Mae's singing voice + wide range of songs
Charlie Mae can sing, y'all. She knows so many songs that they're not worth listing here at this point, but suffice it to say that she can sing the the entire ABCs and has been singing happy birthday to herself, to Sayde, to her blanket, and to all of her stuffed animals for weeks now. I love how high, loud, and off-tune her voice can be when she sings and how much she enjoys singing everything from show tunes to Elmo songs. We have fun.

[PS. I have a great video of her singing her ABCs that I'll share in my Instagram story today if you want to see it!]

SEE: Charlie Mae wearing the two *adorable* handmade dresses that she was given as birthday gifts
Do you see the precious dress that Charlie Mae is wearing in her 2-year pic above? That dress was HANDMADE by Starr Struck's very own Sara! She sent her two handmade dresses that arrived last week and they are both the sweetest things ever. Thanks SO much, Sara!  

TASTE: Family ice cream outings
This summer has been a really busy one for us as a family (work-wise + schedule-wise, not necessarily social engagement-wise) and we haven't spent as much time together as a family unit as I would have liked. But, we have made the time to go out to ice cream as a family at least once per week, and it's been a definite highlight. Charlie Mae can eat some serious ice cream and so can her parents, so we've all enjoyed it. We went this week and as usual, it was delicious and fun. 

SMELL: Charlie Mae's scent
I know I'm not the only crazy person who smells my child's clothes, blankets, and pajamas after I take them off of her, right!!?!? It's a pretty wild thing how biologically, we are so drawn towards the scents of our loved ones. Even if I had no other senses, if I smelled Charlie Mae, I would recognize her anywhere; it's my favorite scent in the whole wide world. The biology of motherhood is pretty awesome. 

TOUCH: Wrestling with Charlie Mae on the bed
Yesterday, despite having plans to go to a playground and then storytime, Charlie Mae and I ended up spending the entire morning at home, instead. The reason for this? We were just having too much fun. And when I asked her if she wanted to go, she said, "No, stay home and wrestle and snuggle with mommy." So that's what we did (after I picked myself up off of the floor where I had become a puddle of love). Snuggling and wrestling in "the big bed" with Charlie Mae is one of my favorite activities. 

And there you have it! Just like that, it's been 2 years since I gave birth to Charlie Mae; and what a wild, beautiful, exhausting, and love-filled 2 years it's been! 

If you missed the first year or so of her life as it was captured here on the blog, you can check out the posts below to get caught up:

• Charlie Mae's Birth Story
• Charlie Mae's Newborn Shoot
• Charlie Mae's First Birthday Party
• Charlie Mae's First Birthday Shoot
  
  

Thanks for being a part of this motherhood journey with me! 

{Images above: the adorable little reason for the following...}
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Last week, I did laundry on Monday. I carried the basket of clean clothes upstairs in between things and dumped it out on the bed so I could fold it later. At bedtime, I went upstairs and found our bed covered with clean clothes. So I scooped them up and put them all back in the basket, put the basket on the floor, and got into bed.

The next day after hastily pulling the comforter over the bed to make a "clean" flat surface, I dumped all of the clothes back on the bed to be folded. That night, when I went to get into bed, I once again scooped up the unfolded clothes and shoved them back into the basket.

You would think I would learn, but this happened on Wednesday, too. 

I finally folded the clothes on Thursday. 

--

In late December, I ran out of contact lenses. The first appointment I could get that would be covered by my insurance was in early March, so I decided I would go without contacts until March and then get new ones.

When the day of my March appointment rolled around, we had a huge snowstorm and the Eye Doctor's office called to tell me that they were closed and would call me back to reschedule after the storm. I missed their follow-up call the next week and still haven't called them back to reschedule.

I've been without contacts for over 7 months.

The other day I looked out the window at the fuzzy leaves on the tree across the street and remembered my missed appointment and the fact that I used to wear contacts.

Then I thought, hmmmm...maybe I don't need contacts, after all!?

--

A few months ago, Charlie Mae was having a blast sitting in the driver's seat of my car, pushing all of the buttons on the dashboard (as you do). The next time that I turned my car on, I found that the radio settings had somehow been changed so that sound only comes out of the back speakers.

I have no idea how to fix this and no time to look up how to fix it so for weeks now, when driving around, I have to decide if I want to listen to music that is just a tiny buzzing from the backseat or drive in silence.

I mostly drive in silence [for longer rides I put on my headphones and listen to a podcast. Duh.] 

--

The debris in our garage--the Elephant Graveyard of our household for the past two years--has been building and building. This past weekend I finally couldn't take it anymore so I started cleaning it out with about 15 minutes until the lunchtime/naptime routine and while in charge of Charlie Mae (not my most productive time of the day).

We don't really drink beer around here, so every time we've hosted a cookout and had leftover beer, we've stowed the unused cans in the garage, leaving us with a garage floor littered with little clusters of half-used 12-packs (again, #ElephantGraveyard).

As a part of my quick cleaning job, I decided to start rounding up the beers, stacking them all up on a shelf. When Charlie Mae saw what I was doing she was overjoyed to see a job she could help me with.

One by one she would bring me a dirty, spiderweb and who-know-what-else-covered beer can and say, "'Nother seltzer mommy???"

--

During a snowstorm in February or March, the rubber padding on my back windshield wiper came off, rendering my back windshield wiper unusable. I've been without a back windshield wiper ever since. 

--

It's really easy to let the burden of all of these little things (and there are OH SO MANY more where these come from) get me down. But every time that my mind starts to go down the "undone" rabbithole (which I've talked about here before), I just have to remind myself that I am raising a special little human being right now; that every unfixed windshield wiper, dusty garage floor "seltzer," and silent car ride is worth it.

Charlie Mae won't remember whether or not the clothes went unfolded for a week or whether or not I could see with my eyes (HAHAHA), but she will remember the quality time we spent together dancing to Hokey Pokey in the kitchen (actually, she probably won't remember that because she's so young but you understand the sentiment). 

And as annoying as all of these undone tasks are, in a weird way, they're also a reminder that my priorities are in the right place right now. And that we're not "failing at life," as Ben keeps saying when he remembers something we've let fall through the cracks (Ben...), but that we're doing our very best and that's all we can do.

At least that's what I keep telling myself. Over and over again. 

But I should probably get my eyes checked and contacts reordered, huh? 

I was listening to an episode of the On Being podcast yesterday (this one--it's definitely worth a listen!) and the host, Krista Tippett, said, "Children teach us that love in it's purest form is a kind of service." When I heard her say this, I immediately pressed pause to jot it down.

Let me repeat it for you: Children teach us that love in it's purest form is a kind of service.

In one quick sentence, this quote distilled motherhood for me in a way that I had never heard it distilled before--love as service, love that is so strong that you would do (and do do) everything for that person. And not necessarily in a sacrificial or selfless way (although it can be in that way, too), but because you want to. 

This kind of service-based love is new for me. Maybe because before becoming a mother, I was never a super service-oriented person (or should I just say, because I was very selfish with my time and energy?). I've never had to be the primary caretaker of a sick or disabled family member or friend, I've never volunteered long-term in one particular area of service, I've never had a job as a caretaker, and besides Sayde, I'd never had another being rely on me for survival. 

But now that I'm a mom, I really do see that pure love is a kind of service.

​I want to give Charlie Mae everything she could ever need. I don't because I can't (and because I know that ultimately, that wouldn't be good for her), but I am "at her service" and I actually enjoy it (not all the time, of course, but most of the time). It feels good to think about someone else, to be pulled out of my brain and out of the endless loops of my monkey mind, and instead, be forced into the present moment by a toddler who needs me and needs me NOW.

It also feels good to love someone SO much that I want to do things for her that I don't particularly enjoy. It's nice to love someone so much that when I find a booger on her leg, I pick it off without even thinking about it--and then it gets stuck on my finger in public and I can't get it off and there are no tissues in sight but I'm still not grossed out (ha!). It's a relief to take care of her and know that I'm doing something important even if it only looks like I'm sitting in the grass in the back yard playing with weeds. 

After I heard this quote about having children I called Ben and read it to him. I said to him, "We need to remember this--that love in it's purest form is a kind of service--and do more for each other. Because it's true, when someone does things for you it makes you feel more loved and doing someone for someone else is a tangible act of love." 

I think this is the part of love that I often forget about. I know love is a feeling and an emotion and that it's really powerful. I know that when it's the healthy kind of love, love motivates and dictates and inspires. But I often forget that love is a kind of service.

It's a choice to take care of someone else and to be there for them even when you don't necessarily want to be. That's what makes true, long-term love so hard but also makes it so special. And that's what motherhood has taught me without my even realizing it until now: in it's purest form, love is a kind of service. 

I am so grateful that I get to serve Charlie Mae as her mother. 

Last week's post about being the Household Manager said a lot about Ben and most of it wasn't positive, per se. I know that despite my stating (twice) that the post wasn't meant to be a bitchfest about Ben, some people just skimmed it and decided that it was, in fact, just a bitchfest about Ben.

Ben even said that he had two people ask him "if everything was okay" between us, despite my saying the following in the first few paragraphs of the post:  

Before I go any further into my own experience with this frustrating subject, I should say that this post is not a critique of Ben at all. Ben is an amazing father and husband; he carries quite a mental load himself and does a lot around our house: he cooks all of our dinners, he does almost all of our grocery shopping, he pays all of our bills and maintains our yard, he does his own laundry. Three nights per week, he comes home from work and immediately handles all evening Charlie Mae duties while I head out to teach yoga. 

Of course I go on to say a lot about what Ben doesn't do around the house, but the point that I was trying to make in this post is that it's not Ben's fault that our society {a Patriarchy} has taught him that all of the extra things I handle around the house are "just the things that women do" and thus, he doesn't have to worry about them.

It's not his fault that I saw my mom doing everything for everyone as I grew up (and she saw her mom doing the same as she grew up...) and therefore just took everything on without even realizing or thinking about it ["because that's just what moms do"].

It's not Ben's fault that he doesn't even know that the invisible workload I carry around in my mind exists. Or that he wasn't raised in a society where he was expected to be the one to stay home with the sick child when both parents work. My frustration is way bigger than my relationship with Ben--it's about how impossible it is to do everything that women are now expected to do in our culture while working (if that's something a woman wants to do, which I do). 

So, just to be 100% clear: Ben and I are good. You don't need to worry about us. 

Sure, we have stuff to work on as a couple and as you can tell from my post, we're still figuring out how to run a family + household together in a way that works for everyone, but we're in a good place and still very much in love, very committed, and very happy together. We had a hard first year as parents [aka sleep deprivation wreaks havoc on everything] but we've reconnected and I think he's the greatest. 

On the other hand, me and my role as Household Manager? We're not so good. I don't want the Household Manager job on top of all of my other jobs--or, I don't want to fill this role alone. I want a co-Household Manager in my husband and I think I deserve one.

I also think that Ben is up to the challenge and can do the job just as well as I can if given the chance ;)

Image above: Charlie Mae sees the path ahead of her and is NOT impressed. If nothing else, we need to change this system to give our daughters another option!
​
On Mother's Day, my social media feeds were filled with sweet posts about moms. They were really beautiful and I loved reading them--especially the ones written by husbands about their wives. You know the posts I'm talking about, right? The husband posts about his amazing wife and how much she does for the family, the household, and the kids. He says how grateful he is for her and her ability to hold everything together despite _____. 

But then Mother's Day passes and the mom featured in said post goes back to grinding it out. Or maybe she doesn't even get a break (not a real one) on Mother's Day--I'm sure lots of mothers were left cleaning up the kitchen after their husbands and kids made them breakfast, or folding laundry and catching up on their own work while their partners napped off their "exhausting" mornings with the kids.  

The conversation about the mental load (often called emotional labor and/or The Invisible Workload) that women and mothers carry around is not a new one, but it feels like it's been everywhere lately and as a new[ish] mom who has just recently started to feel the effects of this phenomenon, it's become increasingly important to me. 

[Note: Many articles about this subject have captured the issue way more succinctly than I ever could, so I've included a couple of my favorite posts about this subject at the bottom of this post.]

Before I go any further into my own experience with this frustrating subject, I should say that this post is not a critique of Ben at all. Ben is an amazing father and husband; he carries quite a mental load himself and does a lot around our house: he cooks all of our dinners, he does almost all of our grocery shopping, he pays all of our bills and maintains our yard, he does his own laundry. Three nights per week, he comes home from work and immediately handles all evening Charlie Mae duties while I head out to teach yoga. 

But what he doesn't understand and will never understand is the hefty mental burden that I carry around at all times as our Full-Time Household and Child Manager. 

[And Historian. And Administrator. And Scheduler. And Organizer. And Decorator.]

Ben has never had to think about what season is coming up and whether or not Charlie Mae has appropriate clothes that fit her for that season. He has never done a single load of her laundry, has never clipped her fingernails, has never even thought about whether or not we have enough diapers or wipes. He doesn't have to worry about her daycare schedule and who will drop her off and pick her up. When she gets a splinter in her foot, he isn't the one researching the best way to get it out and then holding her down while she screams and he tries to remove it. 

Ben has never changed out a roll of toilet paper in our house and when something is missing, he has no idea where to look (duh). He has never changed out a moldy shower curtain or washed a bath mat or cleaned off the base of the electric toothbrush. Every time that Sayde has an accident in our house (which unfortunately, happens more regularly than we'd like), I have to ask him to clean it up and he then asks me how to do so (despite having done it himself many times in the past).

I write the thank you notes and remind Ben to call and thank people who give him gifts. I remind him to make doctor's appointments for himself--or rather, I beg him to make doctor's appointments for himself and often have to research the doctor and give him the name and number of a doctor covered by our insurance before he actually calls.

While I was out of town this past weekend (with our child), Ben called to tell me that Sayde had gotten into some sort of nighttime altercation with a critter when he let her out (yikes!) and that unbeknownst to him, had bled all over our comforter and sheets. When I got home a few days later, I saw that the comforter was still on our bed, that our sheets were still splashed with blood, and that Ben had no intention of handling the situation; he'd rather just sleep on bloody sheets. 

Again, this is not meant to be a bitchfest about Ben, but rather, a comment on what we Household Managers have to handle and think about that the non-Household Managers don't have to handle or think about. It's a post meant to show you that even as a feminist--and as someone who came into my relationship, marriage, and parenting experience focused on equality and sharing the responsibilities--we've fallen into the exact same roles that SO many couples do. Because these roles are ingrained in us since childhood. 

Despite the fact that we both work and my schedule is just as full as his (if not more so!), I am still the de facto CEO of the household, too. I have to remember what has to be done and ask Ben do to it. I have to delegate ("nag"), remind ("nag"), and cajole ("nag"). Often, I end up having to just do it myself rather than have the fight caused by the "nagging" it takes to get him to do the things I ask him to do.  

It's exhausting.

And I can't imagine what it would be like with 3 kids, or a job that required me to be in an office 40+ hours per week, or with a partner who had a much more demanding work schedule. 

So I guess what I'm saying is that it feels like no one is immune to this disease of inequality in the home because it takes GREAT effort to undo what year and years and years of gender inequality have done to our household roles--and ain't no frazzled mom got the time or energy it would take to even things out. It's easier to just do it herself and move on to the next thing. 

BUT! We can try. And I've decided to try harder because it's important to me to model a different way for Charlie Mae as she gets older.

I've sent Ben some Required Reading (he loves when I do this) and fellow Household Managers, if this post speaks to you, you can do the same. If you haven't already, read the following articles and then send them to your partner!

• You Should've Asked: A MUST-READ in comic form. It explains how we got here and offers solutions!
• Women Aren't Nags--We're Just Fed Up: YASSSSSS. 
• The Default Parent: A really funny take on this same subject. 
  
  

And once you've done that, do some of the small things that Emma recommends at the end of her "You Should've Asked" comic:

• Go back and start from the beginning and divide up recurring chores.
• Learn to be okay with things lying around until your partner handles them (if it's one of his duties). 
• When you remember to do so, purposefully leave the house without preparing everything for your partner and make him handle things on his own (this is how we learn!). 
  
  

We can do it, you guys. Household Managers UNITE!

There was a day last week when I was feeling pretty frazzled. Mentally, I was being pulled in two different directions: it was a non-daycare day, so Charlie Mae was home with me, but I also had a bunch of client emails coming in about work that needed to be done ASAP.

The two places where I put most of my time + energy were competing in my mind--my work needed me and my daughter needed me. And I needed them both. 

I found myself feeling that familiar sense of anxiety creep in...and a sense of resentment and undirected anger. I never have enough time for all of my work. I hate having to choose between my daughter and my work. I hate feeling like I never get to spend as much time with Charlie Mae as I want to...

And then out of nowhere, I was struck with a thought: but I have chosen this life. And I continue to choose it again and again. I have TOTAL free will when it comes to my situation and I have made all of the choices that have led me to this moment. And I continue to make those same choices. 

We could add another day of daycare if I really wanted to or needed to. Our daycare has the space and we can afford it. Or I could take on less work so that I don't have as much on my plate; of course we need my income, but we could make it work if that's what I wanted.  

But I don't want to put my child into another day of daycare because I would miss her too much and it would make me too sad. And I don't want to scale back my work any more than I already have because I enjoy it too much and I love the sense of purpose and satisfaction that it gives me. 

So I choose this. It's messy and lacks the boundaries and padding that I like, but it's what I want. And I'll continue to choose it until [or unless] there comes a time when it is truly no longer working. But until then, I want to let go of the anger and frustration that I feel towards no one (myself?) around my chosen situation.

There is no perfect balance, or job, or home-life situation. Anyone who makes it look like they've got it all figured out doesn't--not really, not one hundred percent. But maybe what sets me apart from the person who seems to have things more "figured out" is that she has accepted her situation and learned to work with it.

Therefore, this is going to be my new mantra every time I start to feel those negative feelings bubble up: I choose this. I have chosen this. I keep choosing this. If I am not happy with things, I can make another choice and change them.

But for now, I choose this. 

Author's note: I hate the term "baby weight" and the whole culture around "losing the baby weight." I think it's stupid and plays into the idea that women should be able to "bounce right back" after their bodies have gone through the biggest transformation + journey possible. That being said, I've written this post partly in jest and partly in all seriousness because I think that the way our bodies change because of pregnancy is interesting and because my relationship with my body + body image issues has changed *so* much since becoming a mom. 

Before I was ever pregnant--before motherhood was ever really on my radar--I was always worried about the weight gain that would come with pregnancy and childbirth. I'd heard all of the stories about how hard it can be to "lose the baby weight," and as someone who has struggled a lot with body image and eating issues in the past, I worried that the extra pounds associated with this life change would be a big deal for me (if and when I had a child).

In reality, they weren't.

I was lucky; I had a healthy and active pregnancy and I felt great in my body the entire time. I was able to walk, workout, and do yoga right up until I gave birth, and despite suffering from some birth injuries, I was able to start moving again fairly soon after labor and delivery. 

And my worries about what my body would look + feel like after having a baby? They were really a non-issue. After having Charlie Mae, for the first time in my life, the shape of my body just didn't matter that much to me anymore. I had something much more important to think about now--keeping my baby alive, getting through the day, and trying desperately to find time to get some sleep. Everything else fell to the wayside. 

Once my body had carried, birthed, and fed my child, I also had such a newfound appreciation for it that I no longer felt like beating it up. Similarly, as I've already noted, I just didn't have the time and/or energy to think about my dimply thighs or softer-than-normal belly anymore because I was too exhausted (have I mentioned that I was tired during the first year of Charlie Mae's life?!?). 

Which brings me to the title of this post, "How I Lost the Baby Weight." Here's how I "shed those extra lbs" (HAHAHA) after having a baby, which was *totally* intentional and took lots of planning, time, and energy on my part--all of which new moms have plenty (LOL):

1. Because I didn't have the time to think about what I was eating, I just ate when I was hungry (which was always) and ate whatever was put in front of me. After having Charlie Mae, I was so exhausted and overwhelmed that I didn't have time to obsess about what I was eating. For the first time EVER, I didn't think about which foods were "good" and which foods were "bad" and I didn't think about portions or having seconds or anything else; I ate when I was hungry and since I was always hungry, I ate a lot. Ben took over making all of our meals and when he made me food--whatever it was--I would eat it. This is still the case; he cooks and I eat whatever is presented to me. Ain't nobody got time to think about calories or fat content or any of that mumbo jumbo anymore! And wow has that been freeing. 
   
   
2. My child didn't ever take a bottle and has literally been latched onto my boobs for most of her life. So this means that for 19+ months, my body has been producing breastmilk and my baby has been sucking all of my calories out of my body. Seriously, this girl was a breastfeeding fiend and was still getting most of her nutrients and food from me long after her first birthday. I *do not* recommend having a baby who won't take a bottle to anyone (so. hard.) but in the end, I do think that this challenge helped me "bounce back to my pre-baby weight" (HAHAHAHA. How do people write things like this without dying inside the whole time?).
   
   
3. I have a psycho little dog who would drive everyone in the house INSANE unless I got her out for a walk every day. Sayde is wonderful and we love her so much but as you know by now, she is also a total ball of energy/is totally crazy and she needs her exercise. Because of Sayde, even in the early days and in the middle of winter, Charlie Mae and I would bundle up and go outside to take Sayde on a long walk (every. single. day.). This was not by choice and I often dreaded all of the gear and time it took to get us outside, but it did keep me active. So, HOT TIP! If you are trying to lose the baby weight, just get yourself an anxiety-ridden rescue dog with an anger management problem and a never-ending supply of energy and you'll drop those pounds easily, too! 
   
   
4. I had to get active again [quickly] because my job as a yoga teacher required me to be active. I had planned on getting back to teaching yoga around 10-12 weeks postpartum, so I had a legit reason for needing to get back to yoga and fitness classes ASAP. This was great "motivation" [aka it was kind of stressful!] for getting back to building my strength and flexibility as soon as I could. In retrospect, I went back to work too early, but that's another post altogether. Similarly, my coping method for stress and anxiety is to move my body, get on my yoga mat, or go take a class, and since I have never been as stressed and anxious as I was in that first year as a mom, I would sneak out for a class whenever I could (which was WAY less than before, of course). 
   
   
5. MommaStrong. This one is totally serious and it has been a LIFESAVER. It's a cheap but super effective online fitness program for moms that only takes 15 minutes per day and is geared towards our messy, hectic lives. I became a member when Charlie Mae was about 4 months old and have been doing it regularly ever since. This one has taken some serious effort on my part (and dedication) but has been well worth it because I know it has made me stronger and kept me sane. 

So there you go. I've also been drinking way more red wine these days, eating dark chocolate every night (total mom cliches, I know...) and in general, working out way less than ever before (time and frequency-wise).

Who knew these were the keys to a normal body weight!?!?!

All of that being said, I do want to emphasize that my body is very different now. Even though I may weigh the same amount as I did pre-baby, my skin is saggier in places, certain parts of my body that weren't even that perky before are even less perky now (again, HAHAHA), but my acceptance of my body is so different it's striking.

These days, what my body looks like to others just doesn't matter to me; what matters is how I feel inside of my body. And although my lower back is sore from picking up my toddler all the time and I'm always tired and have way more break-outs post-baby than I did before (WTF has happened to my skin!??!!), I feel pretty good inside this body right now, regardless.

And that's one of the biggest non-Charlie-Mae-related gifts that pregnancy and childbirth has given me. 

This past weekend, Ben and I finally pulled together all of our tax documents to send to our accountant (Tax Preparer = best investment EVER). As we were looking back at our finances for 2017--and comparing them to our 2016 and 2015 finances--I was once again reminded that having a baby has affected our finances in a BIG way.

Before you have kids, people you that "kids are expensive" and that your financial situation will change once you're parents; but just like everything else when it comes it parenting, it's really hard to truly understand what this means until you're experiencing it firsthand.

It's like the sleep deprivation that comes along with parenting: it sounds doable and exaggerated before you've ever dealt with it ("How could it possibly be that bad?") and then you realize that everyone was right and it is HELL ON EARTH AND NO HUMAN BEING SHOULD EVER HAVE TO DEAL WITH THAT KIND OF TORTURE ON A NIGHTLY BASIS.

But I digress. My point is that it doesn't seem like your finances should change that drastically when you have just one little baby (or toddler) but for us, they really have. And one of the main reasons for this is because I work for myself. 

As I've explained here many times before, when you work for yourself in the way that I do (in a primarily service-based area of business), for the most part, you only make money if you're working. Meaning, if I'm not able to sit down at my desk and "clock-in", or go into a studio and teach a yoga class or workshop, I don't get paid.

My income is variable and is mostly based on how much I can get done in a day, a week, or a month. My schedule is also variable which allows me to work when it's most convenient and scale back when needed. 

Because of this, our current financial situation is VERY different than it was at this time two years ago; we have to pay much more attention to when and how we're spending our money now, we're not putting as much away into savings each month, and things just feel much "tighter" now than they ever did before we were parents.

But this change in our finances is so much bigger than the statement "kids are expensive" would have you believe. It's not just about the child care costs or the cost of diapers and clothes--although sure, those things play into the total cost of having a child--but more about the hidden costs of having a baby and especially the hidden costs associated with being self-employed and having a flexible work schedule (blessing and a curse).  

Here's how some of these hidden costs have affected us over the past 18 months: 

When you have a child and work for yourself, you immediately experience a huge decrease in the amount of time you are able to work (even if you have child care!) and thus, your income decreases accordingly.

I know this sound obvious but here's the reason it's a "hidden" cost: I knew I wouldn't be able to work as much as I used to. I knew I would be scaling back. I planned for part-time childcare (vs. full-time) because I wanted to be home with my child some of the time, and I knew that would result in lost income.

But what I didn't understand about being self-employed? Whenever things fall through, you're the one who is "available" to pick up the slack. So when Charlie Mae is sick, I'm the one who is home with her. When day care is closed because the owner's child is sick or because her power is out (which has happened twice in the past few weeks!), I'm the one who "takes the day off" to be with Charlie Mae because I'm the one who has the flexibility to make super last-minute changes to my day. 

Similarly, in addition to these uncontrollable lost work days that all parents deal with (but that those on salary still get paid for), I didn't expect that there would also be additional "controllable" but still desired lost work time.

You all know that I love what I do and that I adore working, but I also adore spending time with my child and it's really important to me to be sure I do so every day. On some days--even if I'm slammed with work and could use every second of childcare possible--I pick her up early from daycare so that I can spend some quality time with her before I have to go teach in the evening.

And despite the fact that my business (and stress levels) could definitely benefit from adding a fourth day of daycare each week (we currently only do 3), I won't do it because I want two days at home with my child. I couldn't have anticipated how my strong desire to spend time with Charlie Mae would result in a decrease in even more lost work time.

Lastly, I've lost a lot of the time that I used to spend working in my mind, if not at my desk. For instance, I used to take Sayde on hour-long walks every day during which I would listen to podcasts and get business ideas, learn about current trends in my field, and get inspired. I also used to spend more time reading about business, doing continuing education, and taking e-courses. All of that is gone. I don't have the time to do any extras right now. When I walk Sayde, I'm also pushing a stroller and entertaining a toddler and my mind is full. This also results in lost income. 

When you don't have as much time to work, you have to start outsourcing tasks that you used to do yourself, and thus, have more business [and household] expenses. 

Although this is related to the above points, it's also slightly different. When I thought about the expenses related to having a child, I didn't think about that fact that I would have so much less time to devote to both business and household tasks and therefore, would have to pay someone to do the things that I used to do.

For instance, in the past 18 months I've had to rely much more on Sara, who works for me at Starr Struck Design Studio, than in years past. She is a Godsend and has SAVED me in so many ways since having Charlie Mae, but it's also much more expensive to pay an employee for more hours of work. 

Similarly, because my precious "free time" needs to be spent working, we've had to pay to outsource more of our household tasks: we sent Sayde away to a very expensive doggy training bootcamp because we didn't have the time to go to weekly trainings ourselves and knew we had to train her. We upped our house cleanings to 2x per month because we simply couldn't stay on top of the cleaning ourselves. We've hired someone to do a bunch of home improvement projects that we might have attempted on our own in the past but knew we would NEVER get to now. We've had to get a lot more takeout in the past 18 months because there have been many nights when neither of us were home to cook. 

As you can imagine, all of this really adds up.

The right part-time child care situation is harder to find than expected, and you can spend tons of money figuring out the best situation for your family. 

When I was pregnant, I thought I had the child care thing figured out. I had hired someone to come to our house and watch Charlie Mae at home while I worked and I knew it was going to be perfect. Spoiler alert: it was not.

As I've mentioned many times before here on the blog, I spent the first 6 months of Charlie Mae's life paying people to watch my child as I sat in my office, paralyzed, and listened to her cry. Then when working from home didn't work, I spent precious child care hours driving back and forth from the local library--working in 1 hour increments--so that I wasn't in the house and she wouldn't smell me, but so that I could still rush home and breastfeed her when needed (she would never take a bottle).

In the beginning we bled money as I paid people for hours and hours of child care during which I got little-to-no work done, hoping that one day my child would get used to that person and the lost money would be worth it. 

Eventually, we found an in-home daycare that worked much better for Charlie Mae (and got her out of the house and away from me, which is what we needed), but even that took a while to adjust to and meant many, many months of short, half-days of daycare (even though I was paying for full-days).

The hours of unused childcare that we have paid for in Charlie Mae's 18 months on this Earth is kind of horrifying. I had no idea that this could possibly happen before I was a parent. 

Sleep deprivation affects your productivity and when your productivity affects your bottom line, you feel your child's Sleep Regressions in your bank account.

While every parents' productivity is affected by sleep deprivation, this doesn't matter as much when you work for a big company with tons of employees.

When you work for yourself, if you're sleep deprived, your business becomes sleep deprived, too. You're not as motivated. You're not as inspired. You have less energy to do the things that keep you healthy and clear-headed, like working out and eating healthy.

All of this affects your ability to work efficiently with minimal errors. If you're lucky (like I am), you have an amazing employee or assistant who can ease some of this burden, pick up the slack when-needed, and catch your mistakes, but it's still a big [internal] business issue.

But wait--there's more! Here are a few of the un-hidden, out-in-the-open costs of having a child when you're self-employed that I think are worth mentioning in a brief roll-call:

You don't have paid maternity leave, you don't have personal sick days (but are sick ALL of the time now that your child is bringing home all of the germs), you don't get paid vacation days, and you don't have any of the employer perks that some parents get, like discounts on specific daycares or products or travel.

And don't forget about the cost of health insurance, which many self-employed people have to buy themselves!

While this issue didn't affect me personally because Ben works for the state, I should also mention that many self-employed parents have to buy their own health insurance. And often this health insurance isn't as good as an employer-provided policy would be or has a higher deductible, which means that in these cases medical costs (like birth, pediatrician's appointments, follow-up OB-GYN visits, etc) can be way more expensive. I know some self-employed people who had to pay upwards of 10k out of pocket for their hospital births [with insurance]. Unacceptable!

So yeah, the struggle is real.

I'd obviously do it again in a heartbeat and any financial hardship is totally worth it in my book, but as you know, I think it's important to talk about these things.

And I also think it's important to remind all of my fellow parents that there isn't an easy or right answer when it comes to working (or not working) and parenting. My flexible, work-from-home, part-time stay-at-home-parent situation might sound like the ideal, but I'm here to assure you that while I'm very grateful for this life situation, it is not without it's own set of challenges + drawbacks, and it has definitely resulted in a loss of income for our household. 

Parenting, huh? Such a wonderful challenge. 

In this week's episode + the Season 4 Finale of Starr Struck Radio's mom-centric season, we discuss some of the surprises and unexpected experiences that accompany childbirth, motherhood, and child-rearing. There are so many things we were unprepared for before becoming moms!

You can listen to this week's episode below OR by downloading and/or subscribing in iTunes or Stitcher (be sure you search "Starr Struck Radio").​

Thank so much to everyone who has listened to this 4th season of the show. Starr Struck Radio *will* be back at some point in the future, I just don't know when or how, so stay tuned ;) 

A few random notes/follow-ups from the episode:
​

• Here's a link to my birth story blog post
• Here's a link to Namaste Nantucket :)
• Sara's socials: Small City Big Days (blog) + Instagram

You can view all past Starr Struck Radio episodes and get answers to FAQs on the podcast homepage. ​​

Thanks for listening! ​​