It’s pretty common for people to say they see their mom, dad, grandma, etc. when they look at their own child. But with our son Garrett – it goes way beyond just a physical resemblance (although he definitely favors our Sicilian side 😉). When I say I see my dad when I look at him – I mean, I see his soul. I see past those warm and compassionate dark brown eyes right into the soul of a man stuck inside of a little man I call my son. The soul of a man who was also an old soul, and who left us all too soon.
Ok, before all my East coast peeps (dodging a bomb cyclone right now) start chunking snowballs my way – just hear me out. It snowed. In Houston. Houston, where temps hover around 100 degrees for months (yes months) on end during the summer. Houston, where the only snow I experienced growing up was a few flurries on the driveway before it all melted, leaving me to think snowmen were some fictitious character like a unicorn or dragon. But yes, it snowed in Houston and you better believe the hubs and I were dragging our kid out of bed at an ungodly hour to not only witness it, but he was gonna appreciate it, dadgummit! And he may or may not have looked just like Cousin Eddie from Christmas Vacation – we were in a hurry people ;).
I couldn’t think of a better way to kick off the new year than with my new favorite post. Charlotte turned 5 months old just before Christmas, and it’s as if she bloomed overnight. In fact, I’m starting to regret I limited myself to only 10 things I love about her, cuz this little lady has me smitten. She’s babbling up a storm, standing up and practically walking off my lap, and just as sweet as she can be to everyone she meets. Oh but don’t worry, she makes up for all that sweetness with her apparent sudden onset of insomnia. It’s like that old college roomie you used to have who doesn’t like to study alone and insists on you staying up and pulling an all nighter with her…every night. I know, because I was totally that roommate ;). I honestly think God makes babies so stinkin cute because who else would we put up with that stuff for?
Anyway, here’s the rundown on her latest “cuteness” and I can’t wait to see what amazing new things she learns in the coming months. Happy New Year!
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Let’s be honest, being a new mom of two takes a lot out of you. If you ask any mom (well, any mom who isn’t lying to you), they’ll say that the transition from one to two kids is brutal. What’s more surprising, is that they say it’s even harder than going from two to three – but, I’m just gonna take their word for that one 😉
As wonderful of a blessing it is to finally have that second baby we’d been wishing for – you always have in the back of your mind, that it also means your world is about to be upturned yet again. It’s true that those first few months are the toughest, but I’ve come to find that sticking to a routine can really help everyone adjust to the new baby in town. Oh, but p.s., when I say “sticking”, I mean more like Elmer’s, not Gorilla glue. Because life happens, and if there’s one major thing I’ve learned that has saved my rear this time around – is that sometimes you’re better off just going with the flow. I’m not ashamed to admit that I was wound tighter than a Swiss clock with my first kid. But hey, you live and learn right? Here are the few bits of our routine below that I’m happy to pass along to you “soon to be two-time mamas” 🙂 Now if only I could help you with the lack of sleep and overall loss of consciousness – that would be something!
So excited to announce my first guest blog post for the uber sweet baby/children’s sleepwear line, Westyn Baby. Now that summer has officially come to a close (can you hear that collective mommy sigh of relief?), I felt it was only fitting to welcome all the kiddos (ok, it’s really for the moms) back to school with a little tongue and cheek piece 😉 Here’s an excerpt below, but you can read the full post on Westyn Baby’s blog!
I think we can all agree on one thing. Moms come in all shapes and sizes. Some moms are “Pinterest” moms, some moms are “so cool you’re not even sure those are really their own kids” moms, and well, some are quite frankly just a hot mess (which, if we’re being totally honest, is all of us – amirite?). But no place, and I mean NO place, brings all these moms together in one glorious clash of cultures than – preschool. Here are some of the mom-types I encountered in our first year of preschool, and I don’t think I’ll ever look at motherhood the same.
1) The “Veteran” Mom
To be honest, this mom was the one I was most intimidated by. Not in like a “she’s so cool I can’t talk to her” kinda way. It was more because she had clearly been doing this preschool mom thing for a while, probably with two or three kids rotating through the program over the past six years, and she’s got this thing on lock down. I’d watch her from the safety of my car, as to not get burned by her supermom radiation, as she’d usher not only her kids but two other moms’ kids to and from their classes with ease and grace. On the last day of school she can be heard making a flippant remark to her son’s preschool teacher that “she’d better go since it’s the last day of errands sans kids”. Oh yah, and she says what we’re all thinking because, well, why not?
We’ve officially made it past the four week mark with baby Charlotte, and I have to say I’m incredibly proud of Garrett for adjusting to this new way of life so quickly and so well. From the minute he saw Charlotte, he went into big brother mode – asking to hold her, and wanting to get as close to her as possible if anyone else was holding her. Every morning he walks into our room (where I’m more than likely nursing Charlotte back to sleep) and he gets as high-pitched as a banshee saying “Hiiiiii. Whatcha doingggggg?” (I realized that he gets this from me – isn’t it funny how a toddler can remind you just how often you say things out of habit?). There have only been a handful of times where he’s gotten upset over me not being able to do whatever it was he was asking me to do, which ended up making me feel way more guilty than he had intended. Even so, I try not to let my head wander to “that place.” That place where you remember what it was like with just you and him. That place where your mind tricks you into thinking he would have been so much happier as an only child.
Remember those TV ads from the ‘80s with the close-up of a greasy fried egg sizzling on the skillet, followed by the ominous “This is your brain on drugs?” Well, consider this my updated millennial PSA for all you mamas and mamas-to-be out there. But instead, imagine a close-up shot of your feet with a flip-flop on one and a work flat on the other (which one of my fellow colleagues totally did), followed by the words “This is your brain on baby.”
Last week I had started a draft for this blog post with a working title of “Happy Place.” Except a lot’s happened between now and then. As I laid awake after a much needed cry fest last night, the only thing I could think of was that it was time for me to “get real.” Too often we feel the pressures of putting on that happy face, even though we know well and good we are holding back tears or anxieties that eventually come to a head when we’re least expecting it. Last night was one of those times. I was preparing to give my son a bath just like any other night, but this night he insisted on having a “boo boo” that was going to hurt if he put his foot in the water. Oh dear. So for a solid five minutes (felt like 30) I tried every bribe in the book, until tears ensued and dad walked in asking buddy what’s wrong. To which I went off on a lightening speed explanation on why I’m so frustrated after trying to negotiate with a toddler for ten minutes, which results in said dad backing out of the bathroom slowly, very slowly.
Now that my superstitious mind has waited long enough, I’m finally ready to announce the big news. I’m pregnant! Yep, the Murray’s will be welcoming another little tyke into our family August 1st (but I’m thinking it’s gonna be a July baby, given that Garrett came early and this one’s measuring a whole week bigger already!). Aaaand, wait for it – it’s aaaaaaa….GIRL!
Everyone knows 2016 was a crapshoot. I don’t think I know one single person who couldn’t wait for it to be over. So as I was mulling over just how to put into words what this year meant for us, it dawned on me – 2016 was a leap year. Now try and follow me here. A leap year, in both the literal and metaphorical sense, means to correct drift. So if you think about it – all 2016 was meant to do was get us back in synch and help us find our true North. I don’t know about you, but the older I get and the more complicated life is – it only seems harder and harder to follow my internal compass. But 2016 was a year for reflecting and looking inward, whether I wanted to or not. Many of you have read my initial recap of this year that I wrote back in Sept. Well a lot, and I mean A LOT, has happened since then.