039: Mama Monday, in tears.

Tragedy stuck the country last Friday.
More importantly, it stuck a small town community.
Specifically, it struck mamas and daddies.
It struck brothers and sisters.
It struck aunts and uncles.
It struck grandparents and godparents.

It struck dreams and hopes.
Blessings.
Wishes.

All that is left are prayers.

Prayers for abundant hugs in this time of grief.
Prayers for a graceful transition for the little angels.
Prayers for family gathering around the mourning.
Prayers for love and peace.

Lovely mamas of CT, I'm praying for you.
I know Nashville prays for you.
I know Tennessee prays for you.
I know America prays for you.
I know the world prays for you.

I know it will never be enough.
I hope you are surrounded with the warmth of family and well-meaning friends.

That's really all I can say. My tears are for you.
They are for your angel children.
They are for your angel mamas.

blessings, sgym

037: Mama Monday, Babywearing Dads.

So, yes, technically this post is a Mama Monday post. But I need to talk about Dads for a moment.

To be specific, babywearing Dads.

Babywearing Dads are not wimps.

Babywearing Dads are not whipped.

Babywearing Dads are not ridiculous.

Babywearing Dads are not hippies.

Babywearing Dads are not pushovers.

Babywearing Dads are not pansies.

Babywearing Dads are wearing their baby.

Babywearing Dads are holding their baby.

Babywearing Dads are looking to bond with their baby.

Babywearing Dads are possibly helping Mama out.

Babywearing Dads are trying to soothe their baby.

Babywearing Dads are having fun with their baby.

Babywearing Dads are Dads too.

Making loud comments about how you "would never want to look like THAT" or "would rather just carry the baby like this, that way is so stupid." Especially within earshot of that babywearing Dad? Please. We left middle school a loooooooooooooong time ago. (Maybe?) This has happened to a friend of mine. Her husband works long hours, so on the weekend, he wears their precious daughter so he gets extra doses of bonding time with her. Because he's her Dad. Because he wants to.

Making rude comments is stupid. I have no other words for it. Stupid. 

Be a parent to your kid and he'll be a parent to his kid.

.... Well, that was a rabbit trail. 

My main thought about babywearing Dads?

They are dead-sexy.

Ok ok, I might be a little biased, since this is my hubs.

But seriously. 

Real men wear babies too.

That's the end of this Mama Monday. Baby wearing. Dads. Love them. Let's not degrade our fellow papas for their parenting choices. Especially when they're this adorable.

Feel free to leave a shoutout in the comments for an awesome Dad you know. Does he babywear? Does he give baths? Does he snuggle before bed? Does he sing silly songs? Does he wrestle in the living room? 

They come in all persuasions! Make sure to give them some extra love!

blessings, sgym

034: Mama Monday, you too?

They aren't lying when they tell you that you are never the same after having a baby.

You get (little to) no sleep.
Your body is unrecognizable.
You waver between missing it and discovering the new one.
You lose friends who you thought would never leave you.
You gain new friends who know your struggles intimately.
You now think of activities in terms of how they fit your child.
You want to try things just to see how your child reacts.
Your free time is spent breathing.
Your free time is spent hurrying.
Your free time is short lived.
Your free time feels weird.
Your free time feels precious.
You know you will never really have "free" time again.
You think your child is the cutest. Ever.
You know you're biased.
You don't really care.
You want to give them everything.
You want to show your child things don't matter.
You want your child to love you.
You want to do what's best.
You want to be different than your parents.
You want to be as wonderful as your parents.
You're constantly comparing yourself to your parents.
You never knew you could love someone t h i s m u c h.
You know you'll never love anything or anyone t h i s m u c h. Ever. Again.

You know, maybe that's just me. 


blessings, sgym

028: Mama Monday, the First.

Today is, was, mama monday. Today, my baby turned 7 months old. Just 5 months ago I felt like we were NEVER getting out of the rut of feeling sickly and tired, using the nipple shield to nurse, glugging back water every five minutes, and trying to keep myself from spinning into a spiral of self pity and PPD. So, the first mama monday is a reflection day.

1. Breathe.

I kept forgetting that the small(ish) baby sleeping near me while I caught up on my dvr wouldn't be that small forever. I couldn't figure out how to leave him alone and get the household chores done. The laundry was on its third full basket. I was trying to balance both extended families, church, husband, and friend time. It took me time, but I slowly learned to breathe. I've always been a people pleaser. I have a hard time saying NO. So. Stop. Breathe. Kiss your baby's head. They won't be that small much longer.

2. Follow your instincts.

Before my baby was laid on my chest, I knew exactly how I was going to parent. I had all the answers. Everything was figured out. HA. Yes. I'll say it again. HA. Now, I'm following my gut. It's been right 99.9% of the time so far. I know when he needs sleep, food, cuddles, more sleep, and even more food. I can't tell you how. I just know my baby. I hope I can keep with it as he grows. My instincts told me that I MUST breastfeed (and so did my monthly budget). I fell into co-sleeping by accident, did research, and now I think I could even call myself well rested. There are others, but those are the two I can discuss in one sentence.

3. Take a ton of pictures.

One day my little man won't be so little. Cliche. Yes. Don't care. He won't be and I want to remember these short and beautiful times.


In the spirit of my "ton of pictures" mantra, here is Mal. Newborn through 7 months:

 newborn.

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one month.

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two months.

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three months.

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four months.

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five months.

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six months.

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seven months.

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If you're caught in the cyclical depression of early motherhood; breathe, follow your instincts, and take a TON of pictures. You will be out of it soon enough.
Try to enjoy it, love.

blessings, sgym