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! 

{Images above: the adorable little reason for the following...}
​
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 ;)

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. 

On Saturday night, our "big plans" were to eat dinner at home as a family and then, after Charlie Mae went to bed, start up a new show. Charlie Mae is at the age where it's no longer very fun to go out to dinner as a family because she just wants to get down and run around the whole time {+ she's warming up her tantrum muscles}, so we've started laying low more than usual on the weekends.

Oh, and of course she's sick again, so after a day of dealing with an uncomfortable, extra-clingy, extra-whiny child and wiping her nose approximately every 20 seconds, we knew we weren't up for attempting a dinner out. 

Thus, we each had a glass of wine at home (to which Charlie Mae pointed and said, "Wieeennnn!" which always makes me feel like I'm #winning in the parenting department), Ben made us a *delicious* dinner, and then, we put Charlie Mae to bed. But first we had to use the Snotsucker on her (yum), which obviously causes a horrible breakdown because who likes to have their brains sucked out through their nose (not me!)? 

After getting her down, Ben and I settled in on the couch. Finally. I had been looking forward to spending time together + watching a new show all day long. We had made it.

About 15 minutes into the show, Ben changed positions on the couch and laid his head on my shoulder. I looked over at him because his head felt *really* heavy and wouldn't you know it, his eyes were closed. 

I should stop right here and say that if you've never watched TV with someone who has a tendency to fall asleep the second they sit down to watch it, it's kind of infuriating. Not if it happens once or twice--that's understandable--but when it happens all the time. Part of the fun of getting into a new show with someone is the fact that you're sharing the experience with them and can talk about it, look forward to it together, etc.

When your TV partner falls asleep every time that a show comes on you have to decide if you're going to, A) Keep watching it and then have to either explain the entire plot line to them before watching the next episode (and then still answer all of their questions the entire time you watch it because they don't know who anyone is or why they're doing what they're doing),  B) Keep watching and then rewatch the entire episode you've already seen with them, or, C) Stop watching that show and watch something else on your own--but if you do this you have to make sure that the show you pick isn't something that they also want to see and know that they will inevitably still wake up and say, "Hey, why did you turn off our show?" Anyways, I digress. 

So, Ben fell asleep and slept through the entire show. It was a really good show and when it was over he woke up and said, "It obviously wasn't that good because it didn't hold my attention enough to keep me up." Ha!

Hahahahahahaha. 

After that lovely moment, Ben wanted to keep sleeping on the couch for a little while (as he does) so I decided to go up to bed to read--trying to hold back my annoyance but kind of failing as I grumpily stormed past him and up the stairs. As I walked into our bedroom after tip-toeing up the stairs and quietly sneaking through the baby gate, I noisily tripped over the plastic basin that goes along with the new potty we got for Charlie Mae. While she hasn't yet shown much interest in sitting on the potty, she does enjoy pulling the plastic basin out and using it as a carrier for her toys, which is why it was in the doorway, waiting to be tripped on. 

Instead of feeling annoyed that this basin had never been picked up, it made me smile because it reminded me of Charlie Mae and our day of playing. What a funny little child we have. 

Then I walked over to my bed and pulled back the covers, getting ready to crawl in, and found a bunch of foam fish bath toys hidden under the sheets. I had forgotten about the game we were playing earlier, in which Charlie Mae would hide a bunch of fish under the comforter and then look at me, arms up in a questioning position alongside her body and say, "Where did fishy go?" I smiled as I picked up the "fishies" and set them on the floor. That was a really cute game. 

Then I climbed into bed, put on my hand lotion and chapstick (as you do), and took my hairband out of my hair. As I ran my hands through my hair I found not one, but two heart stickers stuck to my head.

Again, I smiled as I pulled them out (along with a couple pieces of my hair which I SWEAR I'm still losing at an alarming rate since having a baby), and remembered a day filled with putting stickers on anything + everything and re-using each one until it had completely lost it's sticky backing. 

I finally laid my head on my pillow and turned on my Kindle. Despite all of the little annoyances I had experienced all day long, I smiled because it been a good day in mom-land. Or in the words of Phil Vassar, just another day in paradise.  

Fellow parents, are you with me?

{Editor's Note: this post was supposed to go up yesterday but I came down with a *horrible* 24-hour stomach bug on Sunday and was flat-out all day yesterday so couldn't make it to my computer. Oh, and in case you were wondering/didn't already know, vomiting while taking care of your baby = the WORST.} ​

On Saturday we took Charlie Mae to her first wedding as a toddler. We've had this event on the calendar forever and have been looking forward to it for months. It was Ben's cousin's wedding and it was a huge, fancy, formal, gorgeous event, so it felt like quite the family to-do. 

We got all dressed up--Charlie Mae wore a bow in her hair and a maxi skirt for the first time, I wore heels for the second time in the past year, Ben put on a suit + tie, and off we went. The wedding was amazing and everything was perfect but as I'm *sure* you imagined, my expectations of having a baby at a wedding were WAY off.

Don't get me wrong, I still had a lovely time and am so glad we got to be a part of the festivities, but as usual when it comes to life with a baby, I was shocked by how much more challenging it was to be at a wedding with a baby than I had anticipated.

When thinking about the wedding beforehand, I didn't ponder how hard it would be to carry a child around on your hip while wearing tall heels and a floor-length dress. I didn't think about how challenging it would be to try and hold a glass of wine during cocktail hour while also feeding your child cheese, keeping her happy amidst all of the people (especially the strangers getting in her face and scaring her), and keeping her from grabbing all of the stuff she wants to touch but can't. I didn't anticipate being sad when we had to leave early and therefore missed all of the dancing, the dessert, the family picture, and the late-night fun. I forgot about the fact that I would spend much of the 4 hours that we were there sitting on the floor in the corner, playing with my child in order to keep her happy enough to stick around for a little while longer. 

Again, I want to reiterate that I had a lot of fun at the wedding and loved having Charlie Mae there (I wouldn't have done it differently), but I left feeling that sense of, "Oh yeah, I'm a mom now, and that means that weddings won't be what they once were for a very long time."

At various points throughout the wedding, I looked around and thought about how different my life has become in just a mere 14 months; as I sat on the floor letting Charlie Mae feed me part of her soggy, half-eaten cracker, I jealously watched other attendees noshing on the hors d'oeuvres while having adult conversations.

While reading Charlie Mae a book and trying to steal sips of my wine (only one glass enjoyed right at the beginning of the event so that I could still breastfeed before bed, of course), I eyed the moms of slightly older babies who aren't going through a super-attached phase, as they passed their children around to family members and sipped their drinks without worrying about what time it was or what number drink it was. 

I should be clear, I wasn't feeling sorry for myself or throwing a pity-party in the corner, I was just watching everyone else with a sociologists' eye, remembering how the other half lives, and wondering why I didn't expect this reality at the wedding. I can't just skip around the house without a worry, glass of wine and gourmet mac-n-cheese ball in-hand, so why did I think a wedding would be any different? 

This is the thing that I keep learning--over and over again--about being a parent. My expectations are always wrong. There isn't a vacation from being a parent. Ever. No event, trip, childcare situation, or outfit change can take you out of your parental mindset, your parental role, or your parental duties. I'm not even sure if I would want it to, but I do know that sooner or later, I'd better adjust my expectations so that I don't live the next 20+ years expecting one thing and getting another. 

That being said, Charlie Mae was SO cute in her little outfit! And she had so much fun rolling around on the fancy couch at the wedding! And she loved the gourmet popcorn that was served!

Being a parent is the best. Even if your expectations are always way off and reality is always way more challenging than you anticipated.

On Friday, Ben and I celebrated our 5 year wedding anniversary. When out celebrating on Saturday night (the night we could go out early enough to make it home in time to put our babe to bed) we toasted to our hardest year of marriage yet--to the hardest year of our almost 12-year relationship (!)--and to getting through this past year with our marriage still intact. Honestly, this feels like a big accomplishment. 

In the 12 years that we've been together, Ben and I have been through a lot of ups-and-downs and a lot of the BIG life changes/stressors. For instance, we've weathered the following:

• 4 Years of a long-distance relationship 
• 3 Graduations and "figuring out what to do next" stages 
• Lots of individual moves (2-3 each?) and 4 moves together, the biggest being our move to DC and then our move to Cape Cod 4 years later
• The death of two family members
• Big career changes on both of our parts (numerous career changes on my end and one big one for Ben)
• Getting married
• Adopting a dog [with major issues]
• Buying a house
  
  

...and then we underwent the biggest life change of all, we became parents. If I haven't made it clear enough yet, I'll say it again: this past year of being parents was by far, without question, hands-down, the MOST challenging year of our relationship.

It was way more challenging than the year that Ben was trying to decide what to do after graduating from college (he was a little lost) + I was still in school and studied abroad in France. It was way more challenging than the year that we moved to DC together, moved in together for the first time, and both started over in brand new jobs that neither of us really liked. It was way more challenging than the year that we got married, lost my stepmom, Ben studied for the BAR Exam while working full-time, and we decided to move to Cape Cod.

It was a really hard year. It was one of the best of our marriage, but also one of the hardest. 

What no one tells you when you're pregnant and they're giving you all of the "warnings" is how hard that first year of parenthood can be on a relationship. People tell you that you'll be exhausted, that you'll experience a love you never knew existed, that your baby will bring you and your partner closer, that you'll never have any time to yourself again, that you should go on lots of dates while you still can--but they don't tell you that your relationship will be under more pressure than you could possibly imagine.

They don't tell you that at 2am you'll purposefully hit your sleeping husband IN THE FACE with a pillow because you're so mad that he is sleeping through the baby waking for the 8th time that night and you're not. That you'll snap at each other all of the time because you're both so overwhelmed and sleep-deprived. That in your darkest moments, you'll collapse on the floor, sobbing, and your partner will be too tired or frustrated to comfort you. 

I hope I'm not worrying you; Ben and I are fine, we're still very much in love, and we're SO happy that we had Charlie Mae, but this year was the brightest of days, the most loving of days, and also the darkest of days all in one. Emotions ran high, quality time together ran low, and Charlie Mae came first. We knew that having a baby would be a big change, but we didn't really know what that meant. 

It wasn't that Charlie Mae as an individual made our lives hard, it was the reconfiguring of our already full lives that made it hard; it was the challenge of piecing together our busy (and different) work schedules, childcare issues, financial changes (I'm now working way less than before), and childrearing obstacles while also being sleep-deprived and having no time to take care of ourselves anymore that made it so hard. 

So on Saturday, as we ate one of our first baby-less dinners in months, we talked about how hard this past year has been, but we also laughed together, made fun of ourselves/each other, and enjoyed one another's company in a way that reminded us both of how we acted before we were parents--before we had someone else's wellbeing hanging in the balance between us and so many more logistics and questions to discuss.

Our anniversary date night made me excited about this next year of our marriage as we continue to emerge from the baby fog, reconnect, and remember how much fun we have together. It also made me so thankful that our relationship was strong enough to weather the storm of this past year, and that we can look back on it and feel proud that we went through yet another big life challenge together. 

I now truly know what people mean when they say that relationships are hard and take real work. Or as my dad always says when quoting one of his psychologist mentors, "the hardest thing in the world is another person."

If you're in the thick of it now, or if your relationship has also taken a beating in the first year of your child's life, know that you're not alone and that things do get easier and better.

And at some point in the near future you won't have that 2am wake-up call anymore; or if you do, you will have the wherewithal to stop yourself from slamming that pillow into your partner's sleeping face and instead, remember how much you love that person in bed next to you, even if he can seemingly sleep through anything (or is he faking it so you'll get up? It's SO hard to know...). 

Happy anniversary, Ben! 

Thirteen months ago when Charlie Mae was born, she had approximately one way to communicate what she wanted: she would cry. When she started crying, we would start troubleshooting in order figure out what she needed, and once she stopped crying, we would know that we'd solved the problem and thus, satisfied her needs. 

It was that simple and that complicated. 

Now here we are, just a little over a year later, and from the second that she wakes up until the time that she goes to bed, Charlie Mae is verbally communicating with us. She says new words every day and is constantly exploring new sounds, new objects, new ideas. We no longer have to rely solely on tears to tell us what our baby wants (although crying is still a big form of communication for her, of course), because now Charlie Mae can tell us her basic desires through actual language. 

Just last week she started being able to identify which book she wanted to read by saying the names of some of her favorites; "E-I-E-I" for her Old McDonald Had a Farm book, "DUCK!!!" for her 10 Little Rubber Ducks book, "BrawBeau" for Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?, etc...  She says "yeah," "no," "hiiiiii." "byeeeeeee." "rock" (for when she wants to sit in her glider and rock back and forth, which is almost always), "walk" for when she wants to practice walking, "wowel" for when she wants to play with her owl toy, "mook" for when she wants to breastfeed, and "more" when she wants--you guessed it--more of something.

I could go on and on listing her words (and believe me, I want to!), but I think you get the point: the girl knows how to communicate with us now and it's pretty incredible. This child, who still can't walk on her own, who still wears a diaper, who is just learning how to use a spoon to feed herself, can communicate her needs, her desires, and even her funny little "jokes" using language. 

Isn't the human brain an incredible thing? And aren't babies kind of geniuses? I am constantly in awe of this process. 

I know Charlie Mae isn't special in this regard--I know that around a year is when all babies start to really explode in the language department--but I still can't believe how special it feels to hear her little voice form actual words, and how much satisfaction I get when I witness her master a new sound, or when I watch her brain make the connection between an object or image and the name of that object. 

Watching your baby grow and develop is obviously one of the most amazing parts of being a parent (and I know that everyone knows this), but I really had no idea how much I would love listening to my baby learn to communicate or how much it would mean to me to be fluent in her special little language, to be a part of her small, precious world that is so insulated from everything outside of our house. 

It's these kinds of daily wonders that make parenting so fulfilling and fun, that make me so glad that I became a mom, that stop me in my tracks and make me feel SO grateful for this life I'm living.

Even if I am still more tired, frazzled, and unavailable than ever before. When does that part change? ;) 

As I mentioned on Friday, we got our 'Charlie Mae's 1st Birthday' family photoshoot pics back last week, and it was incredible looking through them and seeing how much our little one has grown.

Since I love a good side-by-side comparison, today I've pulled together some pics from our newborn shoot to share alongside some of the pics from our 1-year shoot; I can't believe the staggering difference that a year makes in the life of a babe! Not only is Charlie Mae bigger, but I think that Ben and I look a lot more settled into our roles as parents now, too. Also, Ben's beard has filled out and man, has he gotten a lot tanner in the past year, haha! ;)

Quick shout-out to our amazing photographers (who both happen to be yoga students of mine, as well):

• Newborn shoot: Kati Mennett of Sparks Fly Photography (view more pics from this shoot here)
• 1-Year shoot: Olivia Beaton Photography

Oh, and I should note that Sayde is still VERY much a part of the family, but she's not allowed on the beach this time of year so couldn't be included in this latest shoot :( We missed her!!!

We had such a special weekend! Our little girlie turned one last week so we had a bunch of family over on Saturday to celebrate her first birthday and our first year of being parents (!).

I have to say, this was definitely my favorite party we've ever thrown; the weather was perfect, Charlie Mae was crazy happy, I had a blast creating + setting up all of the decor for her duck-themed party, Ben grilled up some amazing food, and we had a lot of fun visiting with the wonderful family members who attended.  Also, I didn't get super frazzled the day of the party (or during the party, for that matter), which is a *huge* win for an easily-frazzled gal like myself ;)

Highlights of the day? Watching Charlie Mae point out + name every duck at the party (her latest animal obsession), seeing her light up when opening her gifts--especially her "big girl" basketball goal that her Dad got her--watching her eat her first bit of cake, and of course, seeing her interact with her dear family.

As you all know from my many blog posts about motherhood, I've found being a mom to be the most rewarding and simultaneously most challenging thing I've EVER done. This past year has been a rollercoaster of emotions {ALL OF THE EMOTIONS ALL THE TIME} along with more sleep deprivation, overwhelm, and pure joy/happiness/love than I ever could have prepared for, and while I am sad that this first year of Charlie Mae's life is over, I'm also thrilled to see what the future holds for our little babe and can't wait to watch her continue to grow + develop.

I'm also hoping that this second year of her life brings us a lot more sleep and a bit more "balance" (WTF is balance, anyways? Does ANYONE have it? No, I don't think so...and especially not parents of little ones. But still, a girl can hope, right?).

Anyways, you can see some more snapshots from our ducky party below:

Above: Charlie Mae gives her new stuffed animal a "smooch" + does one of her many assisted dunks of the party. 

Below: This girl is hovering around 55th percentile for height and weight, but is 75th percentile for head circumference. Can you tell from this silly pic of her dome? Such a little melonhead, just like her mom ;) 

 Above: After trying the cake herself, Charlie Mae promptly fed some to her dad. I don't think I have to tell you how much this meant to him ;) 

So that's that! This first year has definitely come and gone in an instant. Does the fact that Charlie Mae is now 1 mean that I can no longer use the excuse "I just had a baby" for why I'm falling behind in every aspect of my life...?

[Me getting my emissions checked after noticing my sticker had expired months ago: "I just had a baby, so just completely forgot about it." Me running late to a doctor's appointment: "I just had a baby so am a bit all over the place right now." Me explaining why I can't sub classes for other yoga teachers: "I just had a baby and haven't gotten into a good groove with my schedule yet..."

The person who I'm explaining myself to: "Oh congrats, how old is your baby?"

Me (making super awkward face as I realize how old she is): 1 year. ] 

Thanks for sticking with me through this past year of transitions and for all of the <online> support you've provided as I've muddled my way through this whole mom-thing. 

Oh, and for those who love a good look back in time, here's the first post I wrote after giving birth + some snapshots from Charlie Mae's first week of life. 

For the first few years of my life, I wasn’t allowed to watch TV. I’m not sure we even had a TV when I was really young (although we must have, right?), and once we did get one it was seriously restricted for us kids.

At first we were only allowed to watch Mr. Rogers and Sesame Street. Eventually we graduated to being able to watch some selected movies (Mary Poppins was a favorite) but we didn’t have cable at my mom’s house until I was in middle school and I don’t think we had it at my dad’s house until even later than that.

Obviously, this was before "The Golden Age of TV" that we’re in now (so. many. good. shows.) but still, my parents were hippies and were way more into imaginative play and dress-up than they were TV shows, so even if the shows had been as good as they are now, I’m not sure that would have changed things very much

It wasn’t until 5th grade--when my parents got divorced and my mom moved us to the suburbs of Atlanta--that I realized how much pop-culture I was missing out on by not watching TV. It was also then that I came to understand that I’d better learn the names of everyone on Full House and Family Matters if I wanted to fit in with the other kids (and while I was at it, I needed to buy some clothes from The Limited Too, as well!).

At school I would fake knowing what people were talking about when they mentioned storylines on these shows, and I would never dare to mention that we didn’t have cable at home, or that Nickeloden had always been a *very special* treat reserved for visits to my grandmother’s house (SNICK, anyone?). 

Similarly, I remember the excitement at eventually being able to join in + follow these conversations once I was finally allowed to watch the TV shows that were talked about at school (the most notable being Dawson’s Creek; swoon!); I also remember watching TRL after school on the days that I didn’t have some sports practice or after-school activity and feeling so cool because after years of being clueless, I was so fully immersed in what was happening in the teenage world... 

..But as we all know, times, they have a' changed and limiting screen-time is no longer just about how much TV you let your kids watch; the issue has become so much bigger and WAY more challenging for today’s parents than it was for mine. 

Yesterday, as I was watching Charlie Mae play with our remote control, I started thinking about how different her childhood will be from my own simply because of the prevalence of screens in her everyday life and in our world.

Even if I am able to successfully keep her away from screens in our home for the first two years or so of her life, my phone is still her most desired object (as it has been for months) and no matter where we go in the world, there are videos playing on almost every surface.

I know that this is something that all parents think about and I know that I'm not making any new observations about our world here, but when I compare Charlie Mae's reality to my own [somewhat unique] screen-less early years, I find them to be in stark contrast. I also didn’t quite realize how pervasive screens were until I had little eyes that I wanted to protect from those screens--and until I saw how quickly her eyes find them, how much she loves moving lights + sounds, how mesmerizing screens are to her little brain.

One of the first truly personalized gifts that I remember picking out for my dad was a bumper sticker for his car that said “Kill Your TV.” When I saw it in the store I knew it was perfect for him--he was one of the OG TV-haters, after all--and although he now has a big-screen, HBO, Netflix, Hulu, + surround sound, I think he still believes in the sentiment behind that bumper sticker, as do I.

I love a good show and watching TV is one of my favorite ways to relax, but it's common knowledge that we could all benefit from a little less screen-time and a little more outdoor time, or conversation, or reading time, or meditation. I'm finding more and more that the idea of “killing [or turning off/silencing] your TV [or phone, or iPad, or whatever screen you watch most]” is one of the only ways to do that.  

So, I don’t yet know exactly how we’re going to navigate Charlie Mae’s relationship with the multiple screens that are readily available in our home, at her daycare, and at family + friends’ houses, but I do know that I'm highly aware that this is an issue and I want to approach it mindfully. As we all should when it comes to our own screen-time on a daily basis.

Also, I  know that I want our daughter to have a childhood that is as full of screen-less downtime and creative play as mine was, but maybe with a *little more* understanding + awareness of pop-culture. And if a teenage Charlie Mae were to ever come across a bumper sticker that said “Kill your screen,” I’d want her to think it was a perfect gift for her mom, simply because of the sentiment behind it ;) 

On Friday, Charlie Mae and I spent approximately 30 minutes playing a game that went something like this:

She would place a plastic frog toy on top of the seat of her scooter. Then, she would use the scooter to pull herself up to standing (on her own, thankyouverymuch mommm) and as she did that, the frog would inevitably fall off of the scooter onto the floor. She would reach for it but not be able to reach it, so she would sit back down on the ground and 'ask' me to get it for her. I would pick it up and hand it to her and the game would begin again. 

While I know this probably sounds super boring and tedious--and in a way, of course, it was a bit boring--it was also this magical 30 minutes in which I was completely present, just down on the floor with my child, playing a simple game and watching her develop and react in real time. 

Before I had a baby, I didn't know what moments like this would feel like. I didn't know that despite having tons of work I "should" be doing, a totally messy house all around us, and errands we could be running, I would still be able to be a part of moments like this and not feel completely stressed out the entire time. Not only did I not feel stressed while sitting on the floor playing this game with Charlie Mae, but I also felt free because it was exactly what I knew I should be doing, no matter what else "needed" to be done. 

In fact, as you probably know if you've been reading this blog for a while, before becoming a mom, I really struggled with finding time to do things that weren't "productive" in some way. I would practically have to schedule my downtime and force myself to just sit around, often feeling slightly anxious while doing so. And while that anxiety definitely does still creep in while I'm playing on the floor with Charlie Mae at times, I also find that WAY more than I expected, it doesn't.

I think the reason that things are so different now is because from the moment that I first laid eyes on her, Charlie Mae became the most important thing in my life. My priorities shifted so swiftly and dramatically that it is still astounding to me when I think about it--and because of that, when I'm spending real quality time with her, getting to know her and watch her and learn with her--it feels like there is truly *nothing* else more important in the entire world that I should be doing. And that's actually a big relief after so many years of self-imposed pressure.

I don't want to make it sound like I'm the perfect parent who never feels the pull of email, social media, or even the dishes when I'm playing with my child (because believe me, I do!!!), but again, it happens way less than I anticipated it would and it feels really good to be so present in a way that I don't think I am able to do in so many other aspects of my life. 

Similarly, Charlie Mae's schedule (ha!) and my desire to help her experience the world around us has led me to experience the world more, too. We get-together more with family, we make plans to go on walks with friends, we go to the beach in the middle of the day on a weekday--all things that I didn't make as much time for before becoming a mom because I was just "too busy."

I've heard people describe kids as "little Buddhas" because they can only live in/conceptualize the current moment, and now that I have a child, I completely understand what they mean by that. It's amazing how much I've learned about being present, thoughtful, and aware from my chubby little Buddha in this first year of her life; I can only hope that her wisdom and ability to live in the here + now will continue to rub off on me as she continues to grow and develop. 

Fellow parents, are you surprised at your kids' ability to anchor you to the present, too? 

Eons ago, when I was pregnant (which was really only about a year ago, but feels like another lifetime), I remember talking with my therapist about my pregnancy and baby-related anxiety.

At the time, my anxiety was mostly focused on the unknowns of having a baby: Would my baby be healthy? Would my labor go the way I wanted it to (spoiler alert: it didn't)? Would I be able to go back to teaching yoga as quickly as planned? How would I balance work and motherhood? Would our childcare situation work out (another spoiler alert: it didn't)?

As we talked about these anxieties and many more, my therapist--a mother of two herself--said something along the lines of, "I am not trying to be negative or to scare you, but learning to live with your anxiety and manage it now is going to be very helpful for you once you are a mother, because once you actually have a child there will be many more things to be anxious about. For most, anxiety is simply a part of being a mom."

I remember hearing her say this and understanding her point on an intellectual level, but now, looking back, I understand that I had no idea what she really meant. 

I don't think I have to say how much I love being a mom, simply because I've said it SO many times here already, but before I go any deeper into this topic I will--just for the record: I love being a mom more than anything.

BUT wow, is motherhood a never-ending source of anxiety. From almost the moment Charlie Mae wakes up to the time that she goes back to bed for the night (and often, in the middle of the night if she wakes up, too!), baby-related worries are on my mind.

I don't mean this in a scary, out of control or post-partum anxiety kind of way, but in a this-is-a-product-of-evolution-so-that-we-protect-our-children-from-threats kind of way. And also, partly in a we-live-in-a-crazy-information-age-that-allows-us-too-much-access-to-parenting-advice kind of way.

The point being, my anxiety isn't leading to any sort of major issue in my life and isn't getting in the way of my normal functioning, but it's always there, popping-up and alerting me to any possible danger or misstep that could lead to negativity in Charlie Mae's life. 

Of course I worry about bigger things, like safety hazards in our house ("we need to put a baby gate up here so that she doesn't fall down these stairs") and whether or not she's developing normally, but I also worry about smaller things, like if she's eaten enough of a variety of foods today, if she's getting sunburned, if she's being given enough attention (and also enough quiet alone-time!), if she's getting tired, if she's in pain and if so, what the cause might be, if I should be letting her turn the pages of her book as quickly as she does or if I should be teaching her to do it more slowly so that we can actually read all of the words on each page.

All day long, these kinds of worries pop into my mind. I am able to make note of the important ones that lead to a to-do or a reminder and let go of the others, but it sure is exhausting to manage all of these thoughts day-in and day-out while also trying to take care of Charlie Mae, work, run the household, take care of myself, etc...

...And this is what I wasn't able to understand before having a baby.

Pre-Charlie Mae, my anxiety was mostly centered around work, which was never related to life + death or the health and development of a tiny human being. My pregnancy-related anxiety was a bit closer to this kind of anxiety because it often did relate to these topics, but I couldn't actually do much about my anxieties then because I had no access to my baby, and now I often can (or could, if I had the time and energy to do everything I think of, which I definitely don't because again, I have a baby and I'm always tired and overwhelmed). 

As I've been learning over the past almost 11 months (OMG, that went fast!), anxiety and worries really are a part of this job description. They're inevitable. I'm sure many mothers have less anxiety than I do, as I'm definitely more prone to it than some, but from talking to my mom friends, I know that I am definitely not alone in my incessant thoughts about all of the things that I can and should be doing for my baby, and all of the things that I have no control over but still worry about. 

So, as I've always done with my anxiety, I'm trying to work through it and learn to manage it with the tools accessible to me: yoga, meditation, therapy, exercise, and giving voice to it with my friends and family (when appropriate).

I'm also trying to learn to trust my gut as a mom so that I feel more confident in the decisions that I make for my child and feel less inclined to turn to Dr. Google so much (which often makes things worse!). Gaining this confidence has been a challenge for me since I knew SO little about babies before having one, but I think it's an important skill for moms to develop, so I am working on it. 

​All this to say, fellow mamas: the anxiety is real. I've learned that it is truly a part of motherhood, and I feel ya. I think it's important that we talk about these things together, so that we all feel a little less alone in our constant worries and more empowered to do something about them (therapy, yoga, kickboxing--haha--whatever helps YOU). 

Mamas-to-be or women contemplating motherhood: just so you know, every single worry is 100000% worth it. And the only reason we mothers even have anxiety is because our love for our children is so all-encompassing that we cannot help but think about every aspect of their lives all day long. Worth it!!!

​The other morning, after dropping Charlie Mae off at daycare (or as Ben likes to call it, "playgroup"), I rolled the windows down and turned up the radio--one of my favorite things to do on a warm, sunny day. 

As I flipped through the stations looking for some good music, I heard the first few lines of one of my most cherished songs--the song that I rapped aloud for everyone on a mic at my wedding (not planned but amazing, nonetheless!)--"Shoop" by Salt-N-Pepa. I was thrilled to hear this song playing at 8:30am on a Tuesday, so as I drove along at 30MPH, I turned it up and started rapping every line out loud, as loud as possible without losing my "smooth" rapper voice (as you do when rapping alone in your car...). 

Although I know it sounds super cheesy, I have to tell you that in that moment, I got a little teary-eyed. Rapping alone in the car after a rough night and a rushed morning was just the little reminder I needed that throughout all of the months of sleep deprivation, the new responsibilities, and the constant worry that has come along with having a baby, the old me is still in there. 

I mean, sure, she's covered with breastmilk and mushed banana, she's a bit preoccupied, and her back seat [and front seat, for that matter] is now full of baby toys, but she still likes to rap, she still likes to drive with the windows down, and she still likes to let the wind mess up her [greasy, messy, unwashed] hair. She's changed, that's for sure, but she's still in there. 

As I'm learning through my own experience as a new mom and by talking to lots of other mothers to small children, when you're a mom, it's pretty easy to lose yourself in the everyday--in the reminders, the scheduling, the constant needs of your little ones.

But whenever we have a moment where our previous life shines through, be it taking a solo yoga class, going out for drinks with friends, stepping out for a quick pedicure, or driving down a Cape Cod road and blasting vintage rap music, we remember who we are outside of being a mother, and I think those moments are really important in keeping us moving forward through the more challenging days (and nights) of early parenthood.

Don't get me wrong, being a mom is my absolute favorite thing I've ever done--I love it WAY more than I loved rapping Salt 'n Pepa on a Saturday night at a fraternity house in college (and I loved that a lot). But in becoming a mother I've discovered what so many other mothers have discovered before me: that as a mom, the freer, wind-in-the-hair version of you can get a little buried sometimes, and when you're knee-deep in baby poop and dirty laundry, it's easy to think that she's lost forever and might never re-emerge.

But that moment in the car the other day assured me that the old me isn't lost--that she's still in there and she'll most definitely be back. When I think about it that way, I find myself getting very excited about the day that my child is old enough to meet that version of me, and I can only hope that she'll have as much fun with her as I have. 

Also, I'm pretty sure that with the parents she has, Charlie Mae is going to be rapping as soon as she learns enough words to do so, so maybe I'll have a little rapper sidekick way sooner than I think...can I get a Llama Llama up in the heezy?

​MC + CM 4LIFE, YO.